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The garment opens effortlessly, and Gretel is breathless at the sight of Abigail's naked body. Possessed by the undeniable desire, Gretel raises a trembling hand, caressing a breast before kissing her, using the other to remove the robe. Abigail's heartbeats reverberate almost painfully in the center of her chest. Guiding Gretel to the sofa, Abigail strips off every piece of clothing along the way, settling astride her.

Abigail has played in her mind countless times what she intended to do to Gretel if the chance arose. She wanted to explore her body, with wet kisses and fiery caresses, until her partner begged for release. However, she must alter the order of things because the need surging within her is too much to bear.

"I need you to touch me," she implores in a choked whisper. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"As sure as I wanted to steal that damn car," Gretel replies, slipping her hand between Abigail's legs, causing her vision to blur.

Abigail guides her to touch her in just the right way, and she moans, screams, and pants over Gretel until a wave of heat, extreme pleasure, and delirium wraps around her, not releasing until her body relaxes after the climax. When she catches her breath, she looks at Gretel, smiling mischievously, a smile that assures her lover she'll find it impossible to stay away from Abigail once this is over.

Chapter 23

Much later

Abigail indulges in a few seconds of stretching in bed. When her muscles loosen, and the joints crack with the stretch, she gets up, takes a quick shower, and hops into her car to head to the office. Twenty minutes later, she parks in her spot, greets the concierge, and instead of pressing the elevator button to the third floor where her office is located, she hits the ground floor button, stepping out into the street as she does every day.

Putting on her sunglasses, she strolls the three blocks to her destination. Upon arrival, she takes them off, resting them on her head. The scent of churros hits her as she opens the shop door, and she inhales, salivating as her stomach growls.

"Good morning, Sergio," she greets Gretel's young assistant, who blushes upon seeing her despite their months-long acquaintance. "Where's my wife hiding?"

"In the pantry," he timidly answers, turning his attention back to the two girls waiting at the counter.

Abigail pushes the door to the back room, places her briefcase on a shelf, and continues to the end of the space. There, she finds Gretel crouched, opening a box of cocoa powder packages. Abigail leans over her, grabs her waist, inviting her to stand while tickling her, and Gretel wriggles in laughter.

"I can't work like this," she complains while still laughing, and Abigail kisses her.

"Of course, you can. In fact, I'm starving," Abigail responds, biting her lip.

"You've got nerve," Gretel continues to laugh.

Abigail gives her a playful spank on the rear, and the two emerge from the pantry. Gretel prepares two cups of hot chocolate and a handful of churros, as they do every day since deciding to open a churro shop three years ago. They've been living together in Abigail's beach house since they got married a couple of years ago, having previously shared an apartment in the city. When everything is ready, Abigail helps with the cups, and they head back to the pantry, reaching Gretel's office, where they have a table in the corner they use to share this moment every day. Afterward, Abigail will return to work, but without the stress she had before. Since she threatened to leave the company, her brothers have stepped up, and they no longer burden her with as much responsibility as before, at least not as much as they used to.

"Do you know what day it is today?" Gretel asks her wife absentmindedly.

Abigail furrows her brow, alarmed in case she has forgotten an important date. Her prodigious mind focuses on the current date, scanning through data in her head to find nothing significant. It's not Gretel's birthday or their wedding anniversary. She also thinks about the day Gretel proposed, but it doesn't match, and she finds it absurd to waste time on it. If they haven't celebrated it any year, this won't be the first.

"No," she responds, intrigued.

"On a day like today, we were in your bed for the first time, with a guy locked in the storage room of the house and a stolen car in the garage."

Abigail bursts into laughter. It's been a long time since they talked about the incident, let alone bothered to memorize the date. She recalls the first few days after, spent in anxiety, not breathing easy until the news announced a major operation the Civil Guard had been working on for months, resulting in the arrest of one of the most significant drug cartels on the Costa del Sol, including Teodoro Blanco.

"Why are you thinking about that now?" she asks Gretel, who, after dipping a churro in the cup, takes a bite and covers her lips in chocolate.

Abigail leans over the table and kisses her to clean her, a gesture she often repeats on many mornings because her wife can't eat churros without getting messy, one of those absurd details she loves.

"I don't just think about it today; I do it often," Gretel admits, surprising her wife.

"You've never told me anything," Abigail worries, thinking she might have some kind of trauma she hasn't noticed.

"It's not a bad thought. I don't reminisce about the tension we went through that day, which was terrible now that the subject has come up," she admits with a smile. "I think about it every time I realize how much I love you and that if we hadn't dared to do what we did, it's likely you and I wouldn't be together right now."

Abigail looks at her touched, then stands up, circles the table, and sits on Gretel's lap, putting an arm behind her shoulders.

"I'm sure we would be," she asserts, whispering. "You and I are meant to be together, Gretel. And if it wasn't in those circumstances, it would have been in others."

"Do you really believe it?" Gretel questions.

"Of course," Abigail responds.

"Do you ever miss that adrenaline?" Gretel's question slightly unsettles Abigail, who squints her eyes and gives her that mischievous smile that makes her wife sigh.

"Are you suggesting something?" Abigail asks, raising an eyebrow.

Gretel shrugs, and both burst into laughter.