“Fuck me,” I mutter when I fill her, her tight wet cunt clenching around me. Her breath dances over my lips as a little sigh leaves her.
“You’re so good. So very fucking good, East. Everything about you is so perfect.” Her hand slides up my stomach and over my chest, coming to a rest over my heart. “And in here, you’re the best man I’ve ever known.”
My chest goes tight and I’m lost for words as she starts to move. I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want her. Every other woman I’ve ever known pales in comparison. The way Ineedher. I know in the depths of my fucking soul that I’m lost on her for good. The way she touches me, the way she talks to me, the way sheseesme—I know she’smyfucking person.
“Wren…” I manage to say, pulling the tie off my eyes and running my fingers along her jaw to bring her eyes to mine. Hoping she can understand what I can’t find the right words to say. What I might be a little scared to say even if I could. A little flit of a smile curves over her lips, her eyes going low and soft.
“I know.” She presses a gentle kiss to my lips. “Me too.”
I wrap my arms around her then as we both go quiet, the sound of her breathing filling the air around us as she takes what she needs from me until she finally comes apart in my arms, saying my name and telling me how much she loves me. I follow her moments later, spent and wrecked all in one go.
THIRTY-SIX
Wren
Other than theweek I found out my Gramps had a stroke; this has been the worst week of my life. It’s been a combination of good and bad news that’s put me here. News that makes me so happy for other people, and so sad for myself. News that I just have to learn to accept.
Like the fact that Easton was drafted by Cincinnati and has to report there in just under two weeks. Or the fact that our project went absolutely amazing, and the bar’s revenue is still up and holding at 20% above average, but our presentation still only got second place which meant no interview or shot at the summer internship I was desperately hoping for.
Then there was the current moment, where I was sitting in a conference room with the elder care attorney we’d hired, Gramps, and a pile of paperwork our accountant and the senior living facility Gramps is supposed to move to is sitting like a wall of problems in the middle of the table. I’m doing my best to smile and stay levelheaded as the attorney walks us through a sea of legal jargon and technical information they have to provide while I wonder how the heck any of this makes sense to anyone.
I glance over at Gramps, and his furrowed brow and the straight line of his mouth tell me he’s about as amused as I am right now. He wasn't thrilled with me either—that had been possibly the lowest point this week, rivaled only by finding out for sure that I was going to lose East. Gramps and I had fought for the first time since I was a teenager.
He was insistent that he could move back into his old apartment above the bar. But the place has no elevator, and he still needs a wheelchair to get around. He kept trying to convince me he could get out of it any day now, if we would all just get out of his way, that he could still make the stairs no problem. Except the doctors had been clear about what would be safe for him. Even if he could make them once, the chances that he could make them regularly to go to the grocery store or get to doctor’s appointments, was highly unlikely. And a fall at his age could mean the worst. There had been yelling, tears, and a whole lot of disappointment on both sides of our argument, and I still felt a little heartsick over having it with him.
“So can you just give it to me straight? I want to know how much this place is going to cost a month.”
“Well, after you pay the initial deposit which they’re estimating will be about 30K, then it will be about $5,575 a month. That goes up though if you opt in to having the laundry services, extra snack options, and/or the pill organization and distribution services. And as you age into needing additional care that fee will also go up. So you’ll want to budget more like 7 to 8K a month for this.”
“Age into additional care my ass…” he mutters to himself, luckily not loud enough for the attorney to hear.
“I’m sorry, we need 8K per month for that room? It’s just a room. It’s not even a full apartment,” I say, sounding desperate to my own ears.
“That’s unfortunately the going rate for a facility. You can eventually qualify for government assistance, but he’ll need to spend through his assets first.”
“He doesn’t have that many assets though,” I say tapping my finger on the bank statement that shows he only has a few thousand left in the bank after all the doctors and care bills he already has had to pay.
“Which is why it’s important we liquidate the biggest one as soon as possible. You’ll need it to even pay the deposit on the facility.”
“Liquidate?” I ask, a pit forming in my stomach.
“You’ll need to sell the building where his apartment is currently located.”
“The building? But that’s where the bar is. That’s our main source of income.”
“Don’t panic. You may be able to work out a deal with the new owner that you continue to rent that space back from them so that you can keep the bar open. A real estate agent can help you frame the listing that way so you’ll attract buyers willing to come to terms with you.”
“Rent it back to us? We don’t make enough money there to pay rent.” I feel the tears clawing at the back of my throat as I stare down at the pile of paperwork. I have a sudden urge to burn it all or toss it out the third story window across from us.
It’s unbelievable that someone worked their whole life, carefully spent their money, saved, and then at the end of it was reduced to absolute fucking poverty just trying to get care. I’m furious. But the attorney is only the messenger, and getting upset is only going to rile Gramps and make him return to the idea of moving back into the apartment.
I look over at him again and he looks pale, upset, and rattled just like I am. I reach over and rub his back.
“We’ll figure it out,” I say softly, and he just shakes his head. I have a feeling we’re both fighting back tears right now.
“Please don’t worry or panic. This is a very common issue, and my firm is very familiar with navigating it. That’s what we’re here for. We’ll help you get through this.”
I’m sure they would, to the tune of several more thousands of dollars we didn’t have.
