“I’m pretty sure your cock’s adaptability is honed by experience.”
He squeezes my chin, forcing me to look at him, his eyes darkening. “Not anymore, Coraline. My cockfits your pussy only.”
My heart somersaults. The words may be crass, but the deep sentiment of commitment behind them… He can’t fake the adoring, worshiping gaze.
“I accept the burden, and the responsibility,” I tease.
“I’ll show you burden tonight.” He kisses me.
I watch the empty space long after he leaves, grinning while I sip my coffee.
Then I sit down and pen a story about a leopard, who was always so playful that no one saw him for the bright, capable, and caring friend he truly was.
A story about not judging, and giving a chance beyond first impressions.
The drill shrills in the back room as I enter the bistro. I stop at the threshold. Gina and Tessa are huddled over the counter, studying large blueprints.
Their chatter is animated, filling the air with excitement.
I feel like an intruder.
I feel like I’m watching a part of my life redesigned, and I don’t know how to fit into it anymore.
A new beginning permeates all the corners of my father’s business, and somehow it doesn’t reach me.
Before, I tried to preserve everything the way Dad had started it. Now I see the changes for what they are: improvements, the next stage, the road to success.
While I accept them now, they don’t excite me. That’s the problem.
With Tessa and Gina involved, the burden has been lifted from my shoulders. I’m grateful. Relieved. Unchained. But also somehow misplaced.
When I watch Xander getting ready for work, the purpose, the underlying drive, the mission of it is evident.
Coming here certainly doesn’t feel the same. It hasn’t felt that way for a long time. I wonder if it ever has.
You never deserved any of this.
Have I spent years here just out of a sense of duty? That is a hard thing to admit to myself, but deep down, I worry it may be true.
I always thought my life was influenced by my circumstances. But perhaps it was my choice.
And perhaps I’m on the verge of making new choices. For me.
What does that even mean? What else would I do if not this?
“Look who showed up,” Tessa teases, with her typical accusatory undertone.
“It doesn’t look like you missed me,” I quip.
Gina looks between the two of us and scurries toward the back room. “I’m going to check on the progress.”
We stay in a silent duel, and I’m not even sure what we are fighting about.
“I feel like you don’t want me here.” Tessa puts her hands on her hips.
“That’s not true.”
She cocks her head, challenging my statement.
