forty one | the epiphany

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AN: sorry. . .

As soon as Kyst opened the door to his office and led me inside with his hand on the small of my back, a sense of overwhelming feelings gripped me

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As soon as Kyst opened the door to his office and led me inside with his hand on the small of my back, a sense of overwhelming feelings gripped me. This was the place I saw Kyst's face for the first time and felt something shift in my heart. It was also the place I told him I hated him, learnt about our marriage and his betrayal, his lies and he had brought us here back.

I had tons of good memories here. Like how he had kissed me against the door once when I'd brought him his morning coffee or how he had turned me over and fingered me to orgasm because my skirt looked "way too fucking good" that day. My cheeks heated at the memory. There really was no one who made me feel as disturbed, as out of place and even then as safe and as loved as Kyst.

"What are we doing here?" I asked, clearing my throat. Earlier, on instinct I had stopped by at the receptionist desk hoping to talk to Lily until I'd realised I'd just sent her off. I wished I had talked to Lily more or forgiven her earlier but my wounds were still raw. Kyst and I had just gotten married yesterday and in the span of twenty four hours, my decisions had taken rapid changes. Sometimes, I wanted to trust him and let him hold me, other times I wanted to punch him right through his face and yell at him. It was discerning. He was discerning.

He turned around to look at me and my breath hitched. The love in his eyes shone brighter than the morning sky, so evident, so beautiful. A small smile played on his lips as he pushed me towards a familiar door in his office. I blinked. The door. The door that was filled to the brim with his grandfather's memories.

During his birthday party, when he had confessed to wanting to let go of his grandfather and had promised to clear out the room to not let the old memories fester, I'd supported him. I hadn't wanted to bombard myself on him or force him to take action. I hadn't had anyone from my immediate family die but when Ken had disappeared without a word, I'd felt the raw ache. Nobody wanted to hear advice about how to deal with pain when they hadn't experienced it themselves.

"Kyst. . ." I whispered cautiously when he still said nothing.

He clasped the door knob and it clicked open with a twist of his wrist. Heavy silence filled the room and engulfed us in a feeling of melancholy and unease. With a sharp breath, his hold on me tightened and he pushed the door open.

I snapped my eyes close as soon as the door opened and coughed loudly. Dirt and dust that had been piling up in this room flew out and into our eyes as even Kyst threw a hand over his eyes, fumbling inside the room for the switchboard.

"How long has this room been close for?" I asked between my coughs. Kyst had told me he often visited this room so the fact that it was still so dirty didn't make any sense. It was as if it hadn't been open for-

"Five months," he said casually as he flicked a switch and in a second, dim, LED lights illuminated the small room. I looked at Kyst in shock as if he hadn't just admitted to not having visited this room in months and he pulled me inside, an undecipherable expression on his face. "Since the day you calmed my panic attack by just holding me, I haven't been in this room."

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