Page 47 of Beyond our Forever

“We’re leaving, kids. Be good.”

“Do you really think we should go out?” I ask as we’re about to get the door.

“Why not? We still have reason to celebrate.”

He smiles, and while I know he is concerned about Noah’s attitude, it seems he’s not about to let it spoil our night.

That somehow makes me feel important. As if it’s just him and me again.

“And I want to show off my wife,” he states before opening the door and letting me go ahead of him.

???

Dinner has been a lot of fun, more than that, between flirting and laughing we have had a great time, so much so that when we return home about three hours later I feel like I’m walking on clouds. I’m twenty years old again. Bruce has returned to being the person I fell in love with, the same one who wandered around my street until he found me, the same one who drew on my skin with his lips, spending hours dreaming out loud.

The same one who proposed to me in an oasis, on a ramshackle wooden bench under a magnolia tree.

The same one I made plans to grow old with.

Like a teenager, I lean my back against the front door, as he brings his body closer to mine, our mouths almost touching, his breath caressing me and something I haven’t seen for a long time, some activity below his belt.

“Invite me in,” he whispers, his lips making their way to my bare neck, the place he likes so much. “Invite me in, gorgeous girl.”

And I am dying to, but that would just complicate everything.

And I haven’t forgotten what Emilia told me, that’s she saw him with someone else. I’m not going to become the ‘other woman’ in his life.

“We’re supposed to be just friends,” I remind him.

He half growls, half laughs.

“That was a stupid idea,” he whispers, stroking my skin with his tongue, stirring all my senses. “Let me come in, love, I miss you.”

“Tell me why I should believe you this time,” I plead.

“Because now I know what it means to lose you,” he murmurs, and my legs tremble again. More for what he says than what he does.

So long ago, so many tears ago.

And I miss him, I miss him so, so much.

“But Bruce, what about the kids?” Excuses that I’ve conjure up in my brain, which has decided to work. Disconnect, don’t go there, it screams at me.

“They should be fast asleep by now.”

He is still doing his thing, his hand sliding under the hem of my dress, finding the lace of my underwear.

“Feel me, baby. Your body is demanding my attention.”

Oh, I miss him too. I miss his body over mine, conquering me, moving between my legs. I miss his hands, his lips, that tongue that continues to run over my exposed skin.

“I’ve missed your fire, Ilythia. I’ve missed your passion. I’ve missed you.”

Why does he have to make it so difficult for me?

Or am I that easily persuaded?

Jeez, he’s still my husband.

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