Page 50 of Opening It Up
Abby looked shocked. “Damn! We wouldn’t do you dirty like that. I mean, Harley’s hot but, like, who has the time?”
I grinned at her as Harley’s voice went on.
“What did I learn from this experiment?” he said. “I learned a lot of things. First of all, I learned I didn’t have quite the, shall we say, cachet on the dating market that I had imagined. Second, I learned an open marriage doesn’t work if you go into it for the wrong reasons. And third, I learned I am desperately, madly in love with my wife and can’t imagine being with anyone else except her.”
“What are you going to do?” Abby asked. “Break up with him? Sounds like he fucked up pretty badly.”
“More coffee, anyone?” I parried.
But I knew what I wanted to do.
When Harley got home, the boys and my dad were building forts in the backyard.
I knew Harley was desperate for my answer, but I said nothing at first as I took out the rotisserie chicken for supper.
“Please,” he said in a low voice as he came up behind me. “I fucked up. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me and I can’t believe I forgot that for even a moment.”
He wrapped his arms around me, nestling his head in my shoulder, and I felt his body shake with great, wracking sobs.
“The three months are over today,” I said.
“And?” Harley asked anxiously.
My shoulder felt damp with his tears, and I glanced down to see his silver ring glinting at me, the familiar engraving ‘one ring to bind me to thee’ and I couldn’t help remembering our wedding—the way it had been outdoors in a forest, the way my dad had worn a bow and arrow to walk me down the aisle, the way my mother and current and former stepmothers had all worn elf ears. The way Harley had insisted on doing his vows in both English and Elvish.
I had loved that tall, gangly nerd so much.
“Should we try another three or six months to make sure of how we feel?” I asked.
He moaned weakly.
“Sweetheart, an open marriage was the single dumbest idea I ever had, and I wish I could take it back.”
“I don’t know,” I countered. “Ihad fun. I feel like I had alotof new experiences.”
“Iwas miserable every goddamn minute and missed you more than I ever thought possible!” he cried, running hands frantically through his dark hair.
“Hmm,” I said.
But I loved the awkward nerd I had married and I still loved the desperate nerd who had fucked up.
“We can always revisit it later,” I said, but Harley whirled me around to face him, holding my face in his hands like he was afraid I would escape.
“Never!” he said fiercely, and his face was lined with pain, the dark circles, unshaven chin, the way his cheekbones were sharp as knives, his dark hair shaggy and unkempt. “I’ll never take you for granted again. I promise. Give me another chance. Please.”
My insides twisted with desire, and I let myself put my arms around him, too, feel the hard muscles of his back under my fingers.
“Then the experiment is over.”
Joy leaped into his eyes as he kissed me hungrily, and at last I allowed myself the pleasure of kissing him back, tasting his desperation and his devotion.
In another second, he had scooped me up in his arms and glanced out the window.
“Everyone looks like they’re playing together nicely out there. Let me prove how much I appreciate you right now, Mrs. Donaghy.”
He sprinted up the stairs, and laid me out on the bed, tearing at his suit jacket and tie without taking his eyes off me.
“This is so self-actualized of you, Dr. Donaghy,” I teased as he lined up his cock at my entrance.
