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Has he been jerking off to porn the whole time we’ve been together? Or maybe he didn’t start until I got pregnant? Until the sex slowed down? When my boobs started to sag? Did I not snap back downstairs after one of the births?
The thoughts still plague me, despite his moving words. I can’t handle knowing that while I was bringing his children into this world, he was getting hard for some other woman.
Every time he was inside of me, was he wishing I was some OnlyFans chick?
I can’t. Ican’tfucking go down that road. For now, I’ll hold onto his words that he still wants me, try to let him show me, like he’s asking to.
Honestly, it might actually break me for good to hear him say all those loving things about me and follow it up with how he still jerks off to other women, if I were to confront him about what I saw.
I mean…is it even reasonable to hope that he isn’t attracted to a single other woman on the planet?
Fuck it, I never claimed to be the sanest one out there. In fact, I think he likes my brand of crazy. He gets off on it. Or he always used to.
The fact that he let me throw everything I did at him tonight and still followed it up with how much he loves me, loves us and our life together? That alone shows me he deserves this chance.
“I have missed you so, so much,” he murmurs against my lips, and I’m done trying to shut him out. I give in, kissing him. Because I’ve missed him, too, dammit. Despite our issues, despite my dramatic tendencies and all the reasons I’ve been mad at him, at the bottom of it all is a lot of fucking love for this man. And that’s why it hurts so goddamn much.
Our lips move together sinuously, and I can taste my tears even before our tongues enter the equation. He takes his time with me, kissing me sweetly, deeply, the way he hasn’t in months, maybe even longer. With every sure stroke of his tongue, I feel it. The passion that burned between us from the first time we met. This unique attraction I’ve only ever shared with him. It’s not dead yet.
It’s what brought us together, what made us so strong from the start. It’s what I’ve missed so, so fucking much. He lets out a groan that gets lost in my mouth, and the tingles in my low belly turn into a heavy pull, a delicious tugging sensation that makes me want to straddle him and start grinding to quench this need that hasn’t been sated in far, far too long. This desire that only he has ever fulfilled.
Like two intricately carved pieces of a puzzle that look like they could slot in with dozens, maybe hundreds of the other pieces of their kind, but only truly click with one another. The perfect pair.
No one else has ever filled me, mind, body, soul, like this man has.
I don’t want to lose what we used to have. But I also don’t trust that things between us can be what he says at the drop of a hat. They obviouslyhaven’tbeen that way.
Eventually, we both pull back to catch our breath, and we look into each other’s eyes again. He gently pulls me down to the outdoor sofa and sits next to me, one of my hands tightly intertwined with his, our thighs pressed close together.
“I’ve missed you, too. But where does that leave us?” I finally whisper.
He closes his eyes, as if he’s scared of the answer, but when he opens them, he looks sure of what he’s going to say next.
“I want to show you how good we are together, baby. I mean it. Give me time. Give me two months to show you that I can be different, thatwecan be different. Like how we used to be. I know we aren’t going to be able to go on dates every few days, or even get time together every night like it used to be, but we can do better than we’ve been doing. I want to prove it to you. But I need you to let me back in.”
Two months.I let his proposal sink in. Two months to show me we can be different. That we can be better.Is that really possible?
“But I want you all in with me, Di. At the end of the sixty days, I want you to promise you’ll be honest with me. If you’re happy with me, with us. Not sit on this for another however many years. That you’ll tell me then if you aren’t happy, if—if we need to…” his voice catches and he stops for a moment to swallow heavily. “If we need to re-evaluate the direction we’re headed in.”
I can’t believe he said it aloud.That’s the one thing I’venevervoiced, no matter how mad I’ve been at him in the past. The “d” word can’t be taken back once it’s been spoken in a marriage, and while he didn’t outright saydivorce, “re-evaluate the direction we’re headed in” is just fancy marketing talk for the same outcome.
I consider his words.
Two months.
Can we really reset our trajectory in two months?
It’s taken thirteen years for us to get to this place. I don’t know if it can be fixed at all, much less in such a short time.
But I know that if I’m still this unhappy in two months, Iwillneed a serious change. And I can put up with anything for two months, even a broken heart. The last couple months are proof of that.
So I’ll give him that time, but I need to take this slow. I need him to show me that he still needs me, that the attraction is still there, there’s still a future for us. I need him to convince me of that enough so that I can get past…what I saw, so that I can believe him when he says it’s me he wants. Without that, there will be nothing left to fight for.
It’s going to take a lot to let my guards down and let him back in fully. He’s got his work cut out for him.
I nod my head. “Two months,” I agree.
