Page 97 of Trial and Error

“Fuck, baby,” Elias pants, his eyes focused on where I end and he begins. “Look at you, taking all of me in your greedy cunt.”

“Mine,” I chant as I tighten around him.

I feel it coming, like it always does, and this time I chase it—ready to embrace it. It happens faster than I imagined, the build, the ecstasy of it, and when my toes begin to curl and my eyelids begin to flutter, I welcome it with open arms.

“Atta fucking girl,” Elias grinds out as he pumps home faster. “Give it to me, baby, come on my cock.”

My orgasm hits at lightning speed, every muscle in my body spasming as it works its way through me, and the pleasure that ignites me has me feeling like a burning star. I’m on cloud nine as Elias chases his own release and fills me, the two of us completely spent.

Body limp and sweaty, I fall into his arms and sigh, my eyes fluttering shut. “That was…”

“I know,” he whispers, pressing a kiss against my shoulder. “You came.”

I smile and nod. “I trust you,” I reply. “I feel safe with you.”

I move my head and look up at him. “I love you so fucking much.”

“I love you too, Eli.” I press a gentle kiss on his jaw. “Always.”

“Let’s start from the beginning.” He rests his head on top of mine. “Let’s do it right this time.”

I smile against his skin in a bubble of bliss and I know deep in my bones there’s nowhere else I’d rather be. “Yeah, baby. That sounds perfect.”

bridget

EPILOGUE

TEN MONTHS LATER

Helen and Patrick sit opposite me at the wooden table and laugh quietly as I fill their glasses with white wine I picked up from the liquor store. Isabel and Oscar couldn’t get a sitter, so they’re staying home this evening, but it has become tradition that we do family dinners once a month, and seeing as this is the first family dinner since Elias and I moved in together, we insisted on hosting.

A month or so ago, we found the most perfect craftsman on the outskirts of Briarwood. It’s in a small residential neighbourhood that is known to be perfect for young families. Telling our families the wedding was off was difficult, and while my parents were confused and shocked at the news, Helen and Patrick looked on knowingly, telling us our time would come, and slowly everything started to feel like it was falling into place.

Elias and I are stronger than ever, and since we agreed to start over, things have felt more natural and real between the two of us. We date, and even though we live together, we still make time for date nights and time away from the house together.

Helen has been slowly getting worse, but she remains in high spirits and watches from the sidelines with warm smiles as Elias and I navigate our new normal. The doctors are telling us to expect her health to deteriorate quickly over the next few weeks, and we’re trying to make what might possibly be her last few weeks comfortable and filled with love.

She sits in her wheelchair, wearing a knitted periwinkle jumper that I bought for her at Christmas. “This is lovely wine, dear,” she comments as she smells inside the glass. “Is it French?”

I shake my head as I set the bottle back onto the table. “Italian.”

She hums, taking a drink. Elias comes to the table a moment later carrying two plates before placing them down in front of his parents. I inhale the aroma of roast chicken in a creamy white wine sauce that’s accompanied by a potato gratin and asparagus. It was a nice surprise to find out what an avid cook Elias is, but I’m not complaining, seeing as cooking has never really been my strong suit.

“This looks incredible,” I say as he returns with two more plates. He presses a kiss to my temple as he lowers himself into the chair beside mine and shuffles closer until our thighs are pressed together.

His dark hair is grown out and rests against his cheekbones, curling softly in a way that has me constantly wanting to run my fingers through his silky locks. The tan sweatshirt he’s wearing is bunched up at the elbows and reveals his corded forearms that flex slightly as he reaches across to grab his bottle of beer. I reach under the table and put my hand on his thigh to give it a squeeze, and when his dark brown eyes meet mine I stare in awe as the flickering light from the candle illuminates his eyes, revealing streaks of honey and amber that swirl around his irises.

“You’re staring,” he whispers as he rests his beer bottle against his mouth, his eyes dropping to my own when I pinch my bottom lip with my teeth. “My parents are right there, stop looking at me like that.”

An amused smile tugs at my lips. “Looking at you like what?”

He swallows his beer and narrows his eyes. “Like you want to have me for dessert.”

I chuckle as I pull my hand from his thigh and grab my knife and fork and cut into a piece of the chicken. “I want you for every single course,” I mumble under my breath.

Elias clears this throat and takes a long drink of his beer, but I catch the sly smirk that briefly passes over his face. The rest of dinner is relaxed, and the four of us fall into a casual conversation around the table as the candles burn and the skies begin to darken.

It’s around nine when Helen and Patrick say their goodbyes, and as soon as Elias shuts the front door, he comes into the living room and sees me lying on the couch, a small smile tugs at his lips before he throws himself on me. His head rests in the crook of my neck and he inhales the remaining scents of my perfume and sighs.