She’s fully herself again—along with whatever it is I’ve brought into her life.
After Reese’s visit, something shifted. Not between us; we’re stronger than we’ve ever been. But Evie has a new energy. She called Reese back and thanked her, then opened her laptop, popped in her earbuds, and worked for four hours straight while I made dinner.
She came downstairs, flushed with accomplishment, and showed me the logo. “It’s incredible,” I told her, and I meant it. Then I lifted her in my arms and carried her to the couch. We got so into each other we almost forgot to eat.
And that’s what I want. Her thriving. Creating. Delving into her passion. Choosing to come to me when she’s finished because she wants to. Not because she’s hiding.
“Done!” she announces, slamming her laptop shut with a grin. She spins to face me. “Sent it off to the client, and they love it!”
I grin, watching her tits bounce as she bubbles in her seat. “That’s my girl,” I say, watching my praise hit her like it always does—with a visible shiver and a blush crossing her cheeks.
She bites her lip. “I’ve got an idea.”
“Oh, yeah?”
She pauses. “But…it might be stupid.”
“Try me.”
She disappears upstairs and comes back holding something in her closed fist. When she opens her palm, I see it.
Charles.
The vibrator she’s been carrying around like a security blanket since long before we met. Her mechanical boyfriend that gave her pleasure but never satisfaction.
“I think it’s time,” she says.
“Time for what?”
“A funeral.”
I stare at her, then burst out laughing. A real, deep laugh that rumbles out of my chest. “You want us to have a funeral for your vibrator?”
“A retirement ceremony,” she says, trying to keep a straight face. “He worked faithfully for years. But he’s no longer needed and deserves a proper send-off.”
I nod. “It’s only fair.”
Five minutes later, we’re standing in the backyard under the stars. Evie has wrapped Charles in a dishtowel—his “burial shroud” as she calls it—and we’ve dug a small hole by the shed. Evie’s barefoot in the grass, wearing my T-shirt and nothing else, aside from a red thong. I stand beside her with my arms crossed, trying not to grin.
“We are gathered here today,” Evie begins, her voice trembling with suppressed laughter, “to honor Charles. A…vibrator of great distinction. A companion of unwavering reliability.”
“He never let you down,” I add.
“He never let me down,” she agrees, nodding solemnly. “Through lonely Friday nights and anxious Sunday mornings, Charles was there. He never judged. Never asked questions. He just…”
Evie makes a soft buzzing sound with her lips, and I lose it, laughing so hard my stomach hurts.
“But,” she continues, composing herself, “Charles had his limitations.” She looks at me. “He couldn’t hold me after. Couldn’t calm me down. And couldn’t pin my arms above my head and tell me I’m a good girl.”
“You’re damn right.” I smirk.
Looking at me, her eyes shine with humor and something deeper. Something permanent that goes straight into my chest. “I found someone better. Someone who made that hollow feeling go away.”
I step closer and wrap my arms around her, holding her from behind. She leans back into me, and I can feel her heartbeat, steady and calm. Content.
“Charles,” she says, lowering him into the hole, “you’re retired. Thank you for your service, but I’ve got the real thing now.”
With her bare foot, she pushes the dirt over him. When she turns around and looks at me, she’s beaming.
