Alexander's head whipped to the side as my slap landed, a tiny cut opening on his bottom lip, and immediately, I was filled with regret.

Why did I do that? I remember the last time I hit him: on the day we got married, and his expression had gone completely dark.

Right now, he was already on the edge, and I was pushing him off.

He didn't say a word. He just lifted his head slowly, and when his gaze met mine, the wound was already healed.

I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but I couldn't even form a sentence. My heart was racing fast. I didn't want...