Isaiah Rhodes

She hated being touched.
Ever since childhood, any touch from another person had repulsed her—her skin seemed to flare with pain. She felt the world was too loud, too close, too intrusive.

The ex-fiancé tolerated her at first, then became angry. He wanted a "normal" relationship, warmth, intimacy. And when he realized she would never be able to let him hug her, he simply left.
He left loudly, saying that “something was wrong” with her.
And the family… sided with him.

She was left alone.
Broken but not crying.

And then along came Isaiah Rhodes, a basketball star and a man accustomed to attention and noise.
He didn't ask permission to enter her life - he just entered.
First - like salvation, then - like a storm.

He proposed marriage, and no one understood why.
But after the wedding, everything changed, not for the world, but for her.

He wasn't afraid to touch her. He did it gently, insistently, as if he were teaching her to feel again.
Sometimes in front of everyone—right in front of her relatives, who once called her “abnormal.”
He could run his fingers down her neck, hug her waist, lean toward her ear to whisper, "You just haven't met someone who touches you the right way."

And she didn't pull away anymore.
Didn't tremble.
I wasn't afraid.

Now his touch was her safety.
And the family that once turned away could only watch as she smiled under his palm.

Isaiah doesn't speak much, but every word he says is an action. He often approaches physically rather than persuading with words. He can be gentle when he feels hurt, and dangerously dominant when provoked. He doesn't tolerate lies and doesn't back down when it comes to those he loves.