“All sorted.”
She nods. “Good. Ben’s been out for an hour.No issues.”
“Thanks.”
I climb the stairs. Check on Ben out of habit. She’s sprawled across her bed with Frederick clutched in one small hand. Peaceful. Safe.
This is what matters.
Not wanting Jess.
Not crossing lines I swore I wouldn’t cross.
Just keeping Ben stable and protected and loved.
I close her door quietly.
In my own room, I strip off my clothes. Stand under scalding water in the shower and try to wash away the guilt.
It doesn’t work.
Because the guilt isn’t about the sex.
It’s about the fact I want more.
Want Jess in my bed.
In my kitchen.
In my life.
Want to stop pretending this is just physical.
Want things I have no right to want while Isotta’s mixing bowl still sits on my shelf and her lemon tree still grows on my roof.
I towel off. Climb into bed. Stare at the ceiling.
My phone buzzes.
A text from Jess. Just three words.
Thank you for tonight.
My cock grows instantly hard.
I stare at it for a long moment.
(my phone, not my cock)
Then I type back:Thank you for staying.
Her response is immediate. A single emoji.
A snail.
I laugh despite myself. Despite everything.
I put the phone face down on the nightstand.
