I hate Luca’s magical hands sometimes, how efficient he has always been at stroking my hair, somewhat lulling me to sleep that now when I’ve finally woken up, suddenly it's already 10pm.I take a few minutes to gather myself, staring at nothing while my brain cells begin to connect with each other, allowing me to remember what has happened today. Being dumped by your crush turned sugar daddy turned boyfriend is already heart-breaking, but the news that you won’t be able to see your kids for God knows how long is beyond devastating. If it’s up to me, I would’ve booked the flight ticket just to be with them, even if it means I have to sleep at a hotel for months. But Dean’s right, what good would it do to our children if I end up getting Covid before I actually managed to see them. What’s worse is if I die from that virus, without even meeting them because Covid patients who die would be sent for burial immediately without the family members being permitted to see them for the last ti

Week three of quarantine, I’ve run out of ideas on what to cook for lunch and dinner. It’s even more discouraging when Luca barely eats so I tend to cook simple meals for lunch since he would normally skip it, and going fancier for dinner because he’s obligated to sit down and eat his food with me at the dining table. After preparing two plates of spaghetti and meatballs, I walk to Luca's home-office to call him for dinner. He has been working since morning, I swear he doesn’t even go out to pee. We normally eat dinner around 7 but today I have been so busy with work, I only started cooking around 8.30. Never mind, due to my nature of being a Mom to two hungry, impatient growing boys, I managed to whip out dinner in just twenty minutes. "What the fuck?!" I quickly turn myself facing the door instead of towards Luca who is sitting on his work-chair with his junk out of the pants. I was this close to announcing dinner the moment I opened the door only to find him religiously strokin

I know what I did should be flagged 'irrational', especially after all the drama of rejecting him, to the point of breaking our precious friendship, only to go down on him a few weeks later. The only two things I should be feeling right now are regret and embarrassment. But I'm clearly not in my right mind, because I feel none of those. Instead, the images of how beautiful he has been all this while keep appearing, of how he's being effortlessly attractive with his adorable attitude, looking delicious to the point of being good enough to eat, and that morning when I finally got to eat him, it's like a dream come true so no, I don't feel those things. I don't have even one bit of regret or embarrassment. He clearly has a different idea because he hides himself the entire afternoon, only coming out of his man-cave when I’m on my daily dose of Liam and Cruz. But once I finish video-calling them, he runs off to his home office. To be honest, I don't even plan to approach him. I though

When I open my eyes, it's already bright. I freak out realising it could be 2pm, I can't miss my daily call with the kids because their bedtime is in an hour since they're five hours ahead. Instead of taking my time like I usually do when I wake up, I ditch the entire scrolling-through-the-social-media routine to immediately getting up only to wince in pain realising the discomfort on my ass and in between my legs. All those dick slapping and hand smacks really take a toll on my body. Curious to see the actual thing, I quickly remove the blanket to which I'm indeed surprised to see bruises everywhere on my body, including the thighs and wrists. That's when everything hits; where's Luca?I jump on the floor, wanting to look for him as well as to find my phone since I'm not sure what time it is now. But again, I scream in pain the moment my feet land on the floor; even a slight movement ignites the agony.Damn it. Why did you have to do me so rough last night? Can't you fuck me the wa

"We need to talk about what happened." He said it as if he's the boss of me. I had five minutes to myself which I believe if not for the pizza and empty beer bottles I left in the living room, he would've come sooner but being a clean freak, I know he took that five minutes to tidy up before coming up here. So yeah, I had five minutes to process what I said to him and how my brain concluded that he is indeed immature. Or perhaps, not ready to be a father. Thank God we do not have a child together or it would be too late for me to back out because history will repeat itself; I'll be left alone to mend the house all by myself while he runs away with excuses like he's not ready to be a Dad. Dean was ready to be a Dad. In fact, he's a great Dad. But his line of work put him away from the house a lot so I had to be both parents for our boys. Call me traumatised but I am definitely not going through the same thing again. I'd get a hysterectomy if I have to, but considering how lack of s