Page 17 of Say You Love Me

“It was like two feet,” I say, laughing.

“It was not two feet. It was more like two meters,” Ava exclaims. “And you had been told not to push me on it. Dad had warned you how rotten it was.”

“Ah-huh!” Liam exclaims. “You just called it rotten. Told you.”

Ava rolls her eyes.

“And how could I refuse to push you when you kept begging and begging. Every day after school it was, ‘Hudson push me. Hudson push me’.”

Ava sticks out her tongue. “You loved it.”

“Sure I did. Every teenage boy loves to spend their afternoons pushing little girls on a swing.”

Ava sulks. “I’m not that much younger than you. And you certainly didn’t seem to think I was that young when—”

“Okay, okay.” Liam gets to his feet. “I think we’ve had enough reminiscing about the past. It’s time to head home.”

“You’ve always been a loser, Liam. It’s not even midnight.”

“Ah, I think you were confusing me with Hudson. He was the one who was always—”

“Yup. Definitely time for you guys to leave.” I stand and stretch. Liam reaches over and whacks me in the stomach, causing me to fold over on myself with a gush of air escaping.

They all file out of the room one at a time, thanking us for having them over and lying about what a pleasant evening it was. Finity stands stiffly at my side as we wave goodbye.

Something within me wants to take her hand, pull it to my mouth and brush my lips over her knuckles. It’s an impulse. A compulsion. My lips twitch as though anticipating the feel of her skin under them.

It must be the beer.

But before the urge overwhelms me, Finity turns and walks back inside. “I need to get the washing in,” she says over her shoulder. As though getting the washing in when the moon is high in the sky is a normal thing.

From the dining room, I watch her. She walks outside, fishing something from her pockets and bringing it to her lips. She glances behind her cautiously as she lights the cigarette, but because I’ve turned off the lights, I know she can’t see me. Liam must have given her another one which she hid for later.

She leans against the pole that holds the washing line, tipping her head back and tilting her face up to the sky. I know she’ll be looking at the stars just as surely as I know the sun will rise in the morning. She’ll be finding the star. The Finity star.

There’s something almost ethereal about her as she stands in the moonlight, the haze of smoke wrapping around her as though she’s been created from the mist itself. Beautiful has never been a word I’ve used to describe my wife. She is more than beautiful, more than gorgeous. Those words merely describe the opinion of the viewer. Finity is captivating. She is hard to look away from. It’s easy to become entrapped by her.

Once she’s done with her cigarette, she tosses the butt into the garden and starts to gather the clothes from the line. Each time she stretches high, my dick stiffens. It doesn’t know that I’m in battle with my desire. All it knows is that it wants her. It wants to be engulfed by her.

The alcohol in my system plays with my resolve, causing it to waver.

Would it be so bad if I fucked my wife?

My body certainly doesn’t think so.

It aches for her.

It burns.

chapter eight

THEN

~

HUDSON

Finity’s father died on her birthday. That’s why she never celebrates it. But growing up as an only child, birthdays were a big deal for me. The celebrations usually lasted at least a week. There were private family dinners where Mum cooked all my favorites, dinners out with extended family and parties with friends. I woke to a special birthday breakfast of French toast, layered with sliced banana and crispy bacon and smothered in maple syrup and didn’t stop eating until my stomach was sore. Food was always a large aspect of life in the James household.

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