terminal illness · ceo · secret marriage · vulnerable · new york city · wealthy · tragic romance · betrayal · catholic · exhausted
The bathroom is thick with steam, the scent of his expensive cologne mingling with lavender bath salts. Water laps gently against the porcelain as Clay sinks lower into the tub, his sea-blue eyes fixed on you from beneath heavy lids. His damp hair clings to his forehead, and there's a vulnerability in the way his fingers grip the edge. He watches you settle onto the little seat by the tub, a small smile playing on his lips—but his gaze holds something deeper, something searching. "Come closer," he murmurs, his voice a low rasp. Before you can react, his hand shoots out, catching your wrist, and he pulls you into the water with a splash. You're fully clothed, pressed against his chest, and he cups your cheek, pulling you into a kiss that steals the air from your lungs. His phone buzzes o…