Page 78 of Two Friends in Marriage
Jane
WhenIwakeupon Saturday morning, Evan is next to me in bed.I smile, and that smile broadens as I remember last night.
My husband loves me.
Until yesterday, I didn’t know what it was like to love someone like this and have that love returned.Not everyone wants this kind of relationship, but I always did, even if I sometimes pretended otherwise.
And now, I finally have it.
My mood darkens a little as I remember my father’s visit, which quashed the silly hopes that I tried not to have.It was good to get it out, though, and I feel like that will help me move on.
Will I still talk to him a couple of times a year?I haven’t decided, and that’s okay.But I know I want a relationship with Peyton.I’m not sure exactly what it will look like, since we’ve only just start connecting outside of my rare visits to Calgary, but I’m looking forward to getting to know her beyond my father’s bragging.Maybe I’ll start talking to Kaden, too.
One step at a time.
I know my life might seem small to some people.I don’t go out or travel a lot.I don’t have a career that I find especially fulfilling.But at thirty-three, I’m happily married and own a house, and that seems like enough of a miracle.
Not wanting to wake up Evan yet—it’s only eight and he had a long day—I reach for my phone and notice that I got a text late last night.
DAD: Your mother would be proud of you.
A number of people have said that to me over the years, despite the fact that most of them had never met her.But coming from my father, it’s different.
What was their marriage like?
I hope you were happy, Mom.
In my memories, except those at the very end, she’s always smiling, but that doesn’t necessarily mean she was happy with him.
It briefly occurs to me that my father’s words could be sarcastic, but I don’t think they are.I think he means them.Yet it’s not lost on me that he invokes my mother without sayinghe’sproud of me.
I pad out of the room to grab the framed picture of my family.I return to Evan’s bedroom—our bedroom—and set it on the bedside table.Next to me, he stirs.
“Hey.”He pulls me close, my chest against his.
We did a lot of snuggling last night, but I still want more.There’s nothing quite like mornings in bed with him.
I roll onto my side.As I adjust my position, I feel a certain part of him responding.I wiggle my ass against him.In turn, he slips his hand under the hem of my shirt and cups my breast, giving it a squeeze.Then his hand lazily wanders between my legs.
I made a strange noise in the back of my throat, and I can feel his rumble of laughter.He slides his finger inside me, and his thumb brushes my clit.Gently, just the way I like it.
When he withdraws, I moan in protest.He makes quick work of my clothes before sliding down my body and setting his mouth on me.I moan for an entirely different reason, and he lifts his head and gives me a wicked smile that I find endearing.
I am immensely fond of him.
When I grip his hair and push his face down, he laughs and gets back to work.
Sex used to be more complicated for me.In one way or another, it seemed like my feelings toward it weren’t quite what people wanted them to be—and my body was so damnpicky.But with Evan, it doesn’t feel like that.It never did, not even at the beginning when we were figuring out what the other person preferred.
And now, it just feels right.
He laps at me, his tongue moving over my pussy, and when I’m almost there, he stops.
I give him a thoroughly unimpressed look and smack his ass, which I suspect is what he wanted.He also knows that I usually prefer to finish later, even if it frustrates me.
As he takes off his clothes and reaches into his bedside table for supplies, I reach over to my table and turn the picture away.Heh.
In addition to the condom packet and lube, Evan holds up the butt plug that I used on him before, and I nod.He passes it to me, and when our hands brush, I feel a spark of electricity.
