Page 72 of The Last Time

It doesn’t take long for him to move up my body and slide his dick into me. It’s the best lunch break I’ve ever had.

After we finish, he’s holding me and his hand runs a path up and down my arm. It’s the most content I’ve ever felt.

Being with him makes me feel complete.

“How’s your head doing?” I ask as I see the cut with a big lump around it.

“It’s fine. Doesn’t really hurt anymore. Josh got it out of me today, how I fell. I don’t think he’s laughed that hard in a long time.”

My body rocks with laughter. “Somehow, I doubt that. Josh seems to laugh at everything.”

He smiles. “Alright, I might be exaggerating.”

“Thanks for helping with Brie the other night. It would’ve been a hell of a night trying to push through that headache without you.”

“It was my pleasure. I loved every second of it.”

“You did, huh?” he asks thoughtfully.

“You two have an amazing little life together, Asher. You’re clearly an incredible father.”

He sighs. “It doesn’t always feel like it. I don’t know what I’m doing half the time.”

“I’m clearly no parenting expert, but I doubt anyone knows what they’re doing half the time. I can tell you from the outside looking in, you’re doing great.”

He lifts up to his elbow and looks down at me. “Thank you,” he whispers as he peers at me intently. Then he brushes a gentle kiss across my lips.

“What do you say we take a shower?” he suggests with his lips over mine.

“Good idea,” I whisper into him.

We both get out of bed. I head for the shower to start it so the water can warm up.

“Can you grab some towels in the closet?” I shout to him.

As I walk back into the bedroom, I see he opened the single closet door instead of the large master closet.

“Oh, it’s not that one,” I say as he stands in front of an empty closet.

Empty except for the large cardboard box sitting on the floor.

“What’s that?” he asks.

“I don’t know. I haven’t even opened this door since I’ve been here.” I peer inside to see frames stacked on top of each other.

I slide the box out, curiosity getting the best of me.

“It’s pictures…of my family.”

I pick up the first frame. It’s a picture of my parents and me sitting on our back deck together. The three of us are smushed together in the frame, smiling brightly at the camera.

It looks like I was about fifteen at the time.

A tear slips from my eye as I look at a time of my life that was so much simpler. You can see it in my carefree smile.

I place the frame next to me and grab the next one. As I pick them up, I realize they are all pictures of me and my mom. The bottom of the box is piles and piles of individual family photos.

All discarded and shoved in the back of a closet for an entire decade.

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