My Hands Are Not Clean

"... she felt like she was wading through water in heavy fabric. Carrying dead weight, sinking under, drowning in everything she couldn't say."

When Angelica would think back on the best and worst decisions she had made in her life, they would all come back to Alexander: his hands on her back, his lips on her neck, the heat of all his mumbled declarations and promises-- and the worst things of all, her fear of what would happen if her sister found out.

(This fic contains infidelity and-- fairly brief-- abuse. If any of that upsets you, DON'T READ THIS. Any other triggers are available in the tags.)