They sat side by side, legs brushing. Erin felt warmth bloom where their thighs touched.
For a moment, neither spoke.
They just breathed the same air.
Then Alex laced their fingers together and said, “Erin. I was scared.”
Erin’s chest tightened. “Of what?”
“That we’d lose us in all of this,” Alex said. “The duties. The kids. The pressure. The expectations. Everything that keeps trying to pull us apart.” She swallowed. “I was scared you’d stop wanting me.”
Erin jerked as if struck. “Lex, my love. How could you think that?”
Alex’s voice was brittle around the edges. “Because we haven’t… properly touched each other in months. Because you’ve been exhausted, and I didn’t want to add to your burden. Because every time you looked at me, you looked… tired. And I thought I was making you tired.”
Erin reached out and cupped Alex’s cheek gently, forcing her to meet her gaze.
“You never tire me,” Erin whispered. “Life tires me. Parenting tires me. The world tires me. But you?” She shook her head. “You’re where I rest.”
Alex’s eyes softened, filling with tears she blinked away quickly.
“You’re where I breathe,” Erin added, voice steady. “I just… didn’t know how to ask for time. For space. For us. I didn’t want to be selfish.”
“Selfish?” Alex repeated, incredulous. “To want your wife? To want intimacy? To want connection?” She shook her head, smiling sadly. “It’s not selfish. It’s human.”
Erin let out a long, shaky breath.
“And you?” Erin asked softly. “What have you been afraid to say?”
Alex hesitated only a second before whispering, “That I need you. Not just as a co-parent. Or a partner. I need you because you’re mine. And because I’m yours. And because I remember what it felt like when we couldn’t get enough of each other. I remember how safe you made me feel.”
Erin lifted Alex’s hand and kissed her knuckles slowly, reverently.
“I still want you,” Erin murmured against her skin. “Every day. Every moment. I want to touch you. Hold you. Be close to you. And I hate that life keeps pulling us in a hundred directions.”
Alex inhaled, trembling. “I thought maybe that desire had faded. That maybe it was just… what time does to people.”
Erin’s heart twisted.
“Desire doesn’t scare me,” Erin said. “Losing you does.”
Alex’s breath hitched.
She leaned closer, forehead brushing Erin’s, noses almost touching. “Then don’t lose me,” Alex whispered. “Stay with me. Tonight. Fully.”
Erin closed her eyes, overwhelmed by the softness, thecloseness, the quiet ache that had lived inside her chest for months.
“I want to,” Erin whispered. “God, Alex, I want to.”
“Then kiss me,” Alex breathed.
Erin didn’t hesitate.
Their lips met softly at first — a warm brush, a gentle promise.
Then again.
And again.
