Damon's POV

“Why don't I still believe you?” I asked my wife Zyna, when both of us had exhausted our batteries thrusting and screaming.

It was nearly midday and the sun outside looked scorching.

“Have you ever believed me?” She asked me.

Unlike lovers who, after such intimate relations, would do small talk about everything that doesn't relate to what they're just done, we jumped right back into the loathing we'd been engaged in before it went down.

“I have trust issues. You can't blame me. I didn't meet you in the most trustworthy manner.” I added.

“Fair enough. If I was to judge you by everything that happened then,...