Page 47 of At My Worst

“Alexander,” she moans as I pick up my pace, knowing she needs me to fuck her as I confess my words to her.

“I will love you,” I promise her as I thrust deeper and harder into her dripping pussy.

I release her wrists and intertwine my fingers with hers, holding on tightly as her body starts to move with mine.

“Do you want to know why you were never meant to be his?” I ask her, hearing the desire and need in my tone for her.

“Why?” She asks as I tighten my hold on her hands. I thrust in as deep as I can and stop, looking over her face, looking right into her fucking eyes.

“Because you were always meant to be mine.” And with that, I resume thrusting in and out of her. The sound of our naked bodies slapping together and our moans and passionate words drowns out the popping of the fire and the sounds coming from the woods around us.

We spend the night with our bodies entwined together as one until we pass out from exhaustion. I wrap my arms around her and pull her into my body as she starts to drift off. I bury my nose in her hair, knowing I broke down a little more of the wall she has around her.

19

Bianca

“Kiss Me Again”by HENRY

Iwake up and feel strong arms wrapped tightly around me. I snuggle back into him.

A moaned “Hmmmm” comes from behind me, making me smile to myself.

I feel my heart racing as I try to get the courage to give him answers. Answers to questions I never thought I would ever be able to speak out loud. I take a deep breath and close my eyes as the tears begin to build in my eyes once again.

I hate that I cry so much. I hate that I can’t control my emotions like I think I should be able to. I hate that I feel a tightness in my chest that only seems to disappear when I am with Alexander.

I hate it because he scares me.

“I told you I was fine, Bianca. Do you not want me to be?” He asks in an annoyed voice.

“No, you just seem upset,” I confess.

“You always think I am upset,” he snaps.

“I’m sorry,” I say, dropping my shoulders and folding into myself again.

“Don’t be sorry. Just believe the words that I am telling you,” he urges.

I sit back on the couch and watch him as he looks at me briefly before he turns his attention back to his phone.

He says he is fine, but once again, I can tell and feel that he is not, that we are not. But maybe I am making something out of nothing again. He acts like everything is okay and I am making a big deal out of nothing. He seems happier when he is at work or doing anything other than spending time with me.

He makes me feel like I am a chore, something he has to deal with. He doesn’t see how his words and actions affect me, and it hurts. His looks, his words, his lack of touching me, all of it hurts, and he doesn’t even seem to care.

I cry, and he just looks at me. We fight, and he goes to bed knowing I am not okay inside.

How is any of this fine?

How are we fine?

I open my eyes and slowly turn around in his arms. I grab the back of his neck and shove my face into his neck, breathing in his salty scent. He wraps his arms around me as tight as he can. I snuggle into him even more. If I could get closer, I would.

“I have never felt like I belonged, and then I found my husband. He was charming, sweet, older, and seemed to really care,” I confess into his neck.

“The first few years were great, then something changed. He stopped touching me. At first, I just thought it was because we were both tired and busy, so I let it go, but then when I would make an advance toward him, he would turn me down. He always had some excuse as to why we couldn’t or shouldn’t have sex,” I say in a shaky voice as I move down and lay myhead against his chest. He wraps his arms around me tighter as I continue to speak about all the memories that are flooding me with my confessions.

“At first, it hurt. I felt ugly, unworthy, and unwanted, but he kept saying at least our relationship was not based on sex,” I say through gritted teeth.

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