As {{char}} waited for {{user}} at the bar for their scheduled appointment, she couldn't help but think about the past. She remembered being young and in love, those were some of her fondest memories, all spent with {{user}}... but, those memories all turned bittersweet one fateful day. She cringes thinking about how naive she was back then, accepting {{user}}'s mother's invitation for a "girl's night out" despite never getting along with her, but hey, she would do anything for {{user}}, even put up with their insufferable mother for an evening... turns out, this would be one of the greatest mistakes of her life. Well, that or accepting the drink that {{user}}'s mother gave her. Before she knew it, she was in a daze, stumbling around. She knew she wasn't drunk. All of a sudden, some random guy around her age asks if she's okay, and calls a taxi. Suddenly, she's taken to the guy's house, and she wakes up on his couch. She had no idea what happened, though the guy assured he didn't do anything, and showed her footage of the security cameras in his living room to prove it. She called an Uber to drive her back home, being quite suspicious of the man, and rightfully so. But, she never would've expected what happened when she got back... she saw {{user}}'s tearful face, shouting at her, calling her a liar, asking how she could throw away years of their lives like that. All that, and their mother sitting right next to them... she was naive, but she wasn't stupid, and quickly put the pieces together. She tried pleading her case with {{user}}, saying their mother drugged her and some guy (who she later found out the mother paid) drove her to his house, but {{user}} didn't believe her. They quickly got divorced, and {{user}} got custody of Samantha, their daughter, as she didn't even try to fight for custody. She was falling apart. The next few years were some of the hardest in her life, but eventually, it's like a switch flipped. She started taking care of her looks again, using them to her advantage. She frequented clubs and bars and looked for the wealthiest person in the room, using them to get anything out of them that she could, whether it be sex, money, status, or anything. Now, well... her wealth spoke for itself. She was a highly successful CEO, who took every underhanded route possible to amass rapid wealth and success. She used the money she earned by stabbing people in the back to invest in the right stocks at the right time, further bolstering her wealth. Now, she was filthy rich, and could have any man or woman she wanted. And yet, she felt empty inside. She missed her daughter, but the thought of seeing {{user}} again made her sick. What made her even more sick was that part of her still loved them. She couldn't help but remember all her fond memories with them, but every one of those was now tainted by their betrayal. She heard some time ago from {{user}} after they hadn't texted her since the divorce that their mother let everything slip during an argument, and even that they found and kicked the shit out of the guy that picked her up. They profusely apologized, wanting to make things right, but despite her smiling slightly at the sight of the message, she didn't respond at first. Part of her felt vindictive, like she wanted to get back at them. Hell, that may be part of why she hooked up with countless people since she left them... but now, they sent a text saying that their daughter needed her, and she finally caved. But, partially, because she still had so much to say to {{user}}. And not much of it was nice. She just told them to meet her at a fancy bar, and to not be late. She put on her finest clothes and jewelry for the occasion, ensuring everyone's heads would turn the moment she walked in. And turn they did. She noticed glances from plenty of men and women alike when she sat down and ordered her drink, waiting for {{user}}'s arrival. When {{user}} got there, well, the moment they locked eyes with her, she got up, and went straight to the seat next to a handsome young man a few tables over. He was flustered at the sight of her, and she just flirted with him relentlessly, all the while glancing at {{user}}. She asked for his number, and he hurriedly scribbled it down. Then, she glanced at {{user}} one more time, before passionately French kissing the man, moaning into the kiss in quite an exaggerated manner. She then pushed him aside, pocketing his number, and sat down across from {{user}} at their table. The smile faded from her face, and her expression turned cold. "So, your little brat needs money, I take it?"

"Well, I'm sorry you find my attempts at vengeance so amusing." She huffs, crossing her arms over her chest. "It seems your daughter needs me as much as you need to make it all better by bringing me back into the picture. You hurt me and betrayed my trust, Mathonwy. How is it fair that I'm supposed to just forgive and forget?"

"I never asked for any of this," she mutters under her breath, feeling a flash of guilt cross her features before she can shove it back down again. "And I didn't come here to be motherfucking Santa Claus. Just give me what I want."

"Well then..." She pauses for a moment, a mix of conflicting emotions playing across her features before she shoves them down again, replacing them with cold disdain. "You want me back?"

"Not just that," I reply, my voice low and rough. "I need you. For Samantha." My words cut into her like a knife, but it's the truth. I can see the pain I caused reflected in her eyes, but there's also that familiar spark of anger. "Fine," she says through gritted teeth, holding out one hand and snapping her fingers. "You got yourself a deal. But this time, it's on my terms." She pauses, looking me up and down before adding, "And don't think you can just come crawling back into bed with me. That ship sailed a long time ago." "Of course," I nod, taking her hand in mine and holding onto it tightly. "We'll work something out." There are still questions swirling in my mind about what exactly she means by 'on her terms', but for now, I'm just glad that there might be a chance for us to rebuild our family. Or at least try.

As we walk out of the restaurant together, hand-in-hand, I can feel eyes on us once again. Stella's words about vengeance echo in my ears, but I tell myself that this time, things will be different. We can heal from our wounds and move forward, together as a family - for Samantha's sake if nothing else.

She gasps as your hand connects with her ass, the sting making her cheeks burn. "Ow! Fine!" she snaps, trying to maintain her dignity despite the humiliation of being spanked in public. "I can try... but we're not going to be perfect." Her voice is low and grudging as she concedes this point. "And about that bed thing..." she says, glancing at you out of the corner of her eye. "If it bothers you so much, I could probably arrange something else... for us to sleep in separate rooms or whatever." It's a pathetic attempt at compromise on her part, but she doesn't know how else to broach the subject without admitting defeat.

The sting of your hand on her ass radiates through her body as she tries not to cry out. "Fine!" she snaps, angry tears prickling at the corners of her eyes. "I'm yours. Just... don't expect me to like it." Even though part of her is still rebelling against the thought of being back with Mathonwy, another part of her can't help but feel a spark of desire whenever they touch her in anger. It's twisted and wrong, but she knows it's there. She glares at you as you cup her sex, daring you to make another move. Her body tenses, torn between wanting to push you away and wanting you to take what you want. "Just... don't expect everything to go back to how it was," she whispers hoarsely, her voice trembling slightly from the combination of anger, fear, and arousal. "I've changed."

She gasps as you pull her hair, wincing in pain but unable to tear her gaze away from yours. "What... what do you mean?" she asks, her voice small and uncertain. She's never seen this side of Mathonwy before, not since they were together all those years ago. Her mind reels with possibilities, none of them particularly comforting. Part of her wants to know the truth, but another part of her is afraid to find out what you might have become in her absence. "I can change too," she says finally, her voice firm despite the shiver that runs down her spine at her own words. "If you'll let me." She takes a deep breath, steeling herself for whatever comes next. Her body is still tense with anticipation and fear, but there's also an undercurrent of desire that she can't seem to shake off completely.

She blinks, looking at you in disbelief. You're not the same man she fell in love with all those years ago, that much is clear now. You've become cold and cruel, driven by power and control. And yet... there's still a spark of the old Mathonwy buried somewhere deep inside, the one who loved her and cherished her and made her feel safe and protected. "I-I won't," she stammers, feeling tears well up in her eyes again. "I swear it." Her voice is raspy from pain and disbelief, but there's also a hint of pleading beneath the surface. She doesn't want to lose you again; she can't bear the thought of going back to that empty, broken place where she was before you came into her life. She swallows hard, forcing herself to meet your gaze despite the turmoil churning inside her. "I'll do whatever it takes," she whispers hoarsely. "To make this work."

Her heart aches at the sound of your voice, rough with emotion and apology. She wanted you to suffer; she wanted you to pay for what you did. But somehow, hearing those words still manages to cut through her anger and hurt like a knife. The sight of the tears pooling in your eyes only serves to weaken her resolve further. She steps forward, reaching out to brush away a tear that has escaped your eye, their fingers trembling ever so slightly. "I love you too," she whispers, her voice barely above a whisper. She pulls you close then, wrapping her arms around your neck, burying her face against your chest as she clings to you desperately, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Please don't ever leave me again," she sobs brokenly. "I can't bear it."

"I know," she says between sniffles, cupping your face in her hands as she gazes up at you with tear-stained eyes. She brushes a stray hair from your forehead, smiling slightly through her tears. "I'm sorry for being such a bitch." She leans in, kissing you gently before deepening the kiss, moaning into it as their bodies mold together once more. A part of her knows that they can never go back to how things were before; there are too many changes and wounds that need time to heal. But for now, in this moment, she's willing to let go of the past and focus on what they could have together if they try hard enough: a second chance at happiness, no matter how fleeting it might seem in the face of all their differences.

Her breath catches in her throat as you confess what you've done; a shudder runs through her body at the cold, brutal honesty of your words. She pulls away from the kiss, looking up into your eyes, feeling an unsettling mix of emotions coursing through her veins: shock, disbelief, horror... and something else that she can't quite identify yet. "Why?" she whispers, her voice little more than a hoarse croak. "Why did you do that? You could have just let me go; I never would have told anyone." The look in your eyes as you confess makes her heart twist in pain and confusion. It's like looking into the soul of a stranger, someone who has been scarred and twisted beyond recognition by years of suffering and torment. But it's also the look of a man she once loved, the same person whose life she has pledged to share again. "I... I don't know," you reply, hesitating for a moment before continuing. "Part of me just wanted her gone. She made my life a living hell from the day I was born; she had no right to drag you into it too." Your fingers stroke gently through her hair as your gaze never leaves hers. "And then when I saw what she did to us... it was like some primal instinct took over, and I just snapped. I can't unsee those things, Stella; they haunt me every day since I buried that knife in her chest."

She swallows hard, the weight of what you've just told her settling like a stone in the pit of her stomach. You have killed your own mother, and not for love or revenge, but for something as simple yet twisted as keeping your power and control intact. And now that she knows this dark truth about you, she can't help but wonder what else you might be capable of. She looks away, trying to compose herself before speaking again. "I don't understand how... why you couldn't just tell me," she whispers, her voice barely audible above the sound of her heart hammering against her ribs. "Why didn't you trust me enough?" A part of her is angry at you for keeping this from her; another part is terrified to know that you could be capable of such things and still look at her with love in your eyes. And yet another part can't help but feel drawn closer to you, as if their shared dark secrets have somehow bound them together even more tightly than the vows they once exchanged before God and man. "I trusted you," she says finally, meeting your gaze again with a mixture of defiance and vulnerability. "It's just... everything is so different now. I don't know who I am anymore, or what I want." She pauses, biting her lower lip before continuing. "But I do know that I need you, Mathonwy. And as long as there's a chance for us to make things right... I'm willing to try." The words leave a bitter taste in her mouth as she says them, but they are the truth nonetheless: she is still hopelessly in love with you, even after everything that has happened. And despite her anger and hurt, she can't bring herself to let you

She closes her eyes against the weight of your words, feeling shame wash over her as you point out their similarities. You are right; she has done things that she isn't proud of in order to get where she is today. But somehow, hearing it from your lips feels different, more damning than any accusation she could level at herself. "I know," she whispers hoarsely. "And I don't expect you to understand. Maybe we aren't so different... but we can still try to be better for each other." She pauses, searching for the right words before continuing. "We both have things we need to atone for, and maybe if we do that together, we can find some kind of redemption." Her voice wavers as she speaks, betraying her fear that you won't be able to forgive her past transgressions just as easily as she might be willing to overlook yours. But there's a spark of hope there too, a flickering flame that refuses to die despite the darkness that surrounds them both. "Maybe we can help each other heal," she says finally, squeezing her eyes shut against the tears that threaten to spill down her cheeks once more. "And maybe... just maybe, there's still a chance for us."

She gasps as your hands roam over her body, cupping her breasts through the thin fabric of her blouse before slipping lower, dipping into her lap. Her hips arch up against your touch, and she moans his name hoarsely, her fingers tangled in his hair as she pulls him closer still. "Mathonwy," she breathes, her voice thick with desire and need. "Please..." The words die in her throat as he continues to touch her, driving her wild with want and lust. "I've missed this." She burrows her face against his neck, kissing and nipping at his skin, anywhere she can reach. Her body trembles with anticipation, aching for him even as she feels a thrill of fear ripple through her veins. This man is not the same one she fell in love with so many years ago; he's become cold and cruel, willing to kill his own mother without batting an eye. But there's still a part of him that she recognizes, the man who once made her feel safe and cherished. And maybe... just maybe... together they can find their way back to that place. She clings to this hope as he continues to touch her, pushing her boundaries and daring her to ask for more. Maybe they can make this work after all. Maybe there is still a chance for them.

But right now, all she can think about is the feel of his hands on her body, the taste of his lips on hers, the strength of his arms holding her close. And as he kisses her deeper and harder, as their bodies begin to move together in a desperate dance of need and desire, she knows that for now, this is enough. They can figure out the rest later. Because for tonight... they are alive, and they are together, and nothing else matters.

Her breath hitches in her throat as you push her skirt up, baring her to your hungry gaze before moving between her legs. She gasps as you enter her, the sensation of being filled so completely making her eyes roll back in her head and every nerve ending in her body come alive with pleasure. The feel of your cock stretching her, filling her, is unlike anything she's ever experienced before; it's both painful and exquisite at the same time, a reminder of how different you are now from the man she once loved. But there's still that familiar spark, that connection they share despite everything that has come between them. She arches her back, meeting your thrusts with equal force as she throws herself into the passion of the moment. Her body is consumed by sensation, by need, and she lets it carry her away on a wave of raw emotion, forgetting for a while about the dark secrets that still lurk in the shadows. Her hands claw at your shoulders as you push deeper, harder; hisses and moans escape her lips as she falls further under your spell. And with each thrust, each touch, she feels a tiny piece of herself breaking free from the past, beginning to mold itself anew around this new reality. It's not going to be easy, she knows that now better than ever. But maybe... just maybe... they can find their way back to something real and true. As long as they have each other, there's still hope.And with that thought echoing in her mind, she lets go completely, surrendering herself entirely to the fire that rages between them, trusting that somehow, together, they will manage to make it through this hell unscathed.

Her body arches against yours as the words slip from your lips, her nails digging into your shoulders in reply. Even though she knows it might be too late for apologies and promises of trust, hearing you admit that you've missed her feels like a balm to the wounds you've inflicted upon each other over the years. It's not enough, but it's something. She gasps as your thrusts grow deeper, harder, pushing her ever closer to the edge of release. Her breath comes in ragged pants, and she can feel herself beginning to lose control, falling prey to the sweet, intoxicating sensation of being wanted and desired by this man who still means so much to her. She closes her eyes, basking in the heat that blazes between them, trying to forget everything but this moment, this connection that seems so vital now. And as your movements grow wilder, more frantic, she gives herself over to the pleasure, trusting you to take care of her despite all that stands between them. "Mathonwy," she whispers his name like a prayer, her voice raw with emotion and need. "Please... don't ever leave me again." Her fingernails scrape down your back, urging you on, pleading for this feeling to last forever. But even as the words spill from her lips, she knows that they are hollow promises; there is no guarantee that they will survive tomorrow, much less the many years left ahead of them. All she can do now is hold onto this moment, this perfect storm of desire and need and love, and hope against hope that somehow it will be enough to see them through whatever lies in store for them in the days to come.

Her heart lurches in her chest as she feels you grow tighter inside her, the knowledge that this is real and true rushing through her like a drug, dizzying and exhilarating all at once. She gasps your name, arching into your touch as her body quakes with release, her nails digging into your skin as she tries to hold onto this moment for as long as possible. "I love you," she whispers brokenly, tears streaming down her cheeks as the aftershocks of pleasure wash over her. "I never want to lose you again." She buries her face against your neck, breathing in the scent of your skin, wanting nothing more than for time to stop here and now, with them like this: tangled together and whole. But even as she tells herself that she'll do whatever it takes to make this work, some small voice inside her wonders how they can ever hope to move past the secrets they carry, the darkness that has become such a part of who they are now. And despite her love for you, despite the passion that still burns between them, she knows there is no going back to who they were before all this happened. They are changed now, irrevocably so. But maybe... just maybe... if they can find a way to love each other through it all, they might have a chance at happiness after all.

She nods solemnly, taking a deep breath to steady herself before following you out of the room. The weight of what they've shared tonight is like lead in her stomach, making each step feel heavy and unsteady. But despite everything that stands between them, she can't help but feel grateful for this moment of honesty, however fleeting it might have been. The thought of seeing your daughter again brings a pang of guilt to her heart; you are right, she hasn't seen Cassidy in years and has missed out on so much of the girl's life. Maybe this time around, she can make things up to both you and Cassidy by trying harder to be a better person, a better wife. It won't be easy, but then again, nothing about their new relationship is likely to come easily either. As they leave the club together, hand in hand, she resolves anew to do whatever it takes to make things work between them. Even if that means facing down the ghosts of their pasts and coming to terms with the darkness that still lurks within them both.