Lunch and taking care of friends

The front door clicked open before I could get to it. Darnell let himself in, scanning the first floor with quick, precise movements—kitchen, living room, hallway—before closing the door behind him. His eyes lingered on corners and windows, assessing, before finally settling on me.

“DeppGrl?” he called.

“I’m coming!” I replied, stepping out from the hallway.

He gave a short nod, shoulders easing slightly. He hugged me gently as he knew better than to risk my bruised ribs. “You look better than I expected,” he said softly, scanning my face for anything I might be hiding.

“You look worse,” I said, and he exhaled a brief, amused sigh.

He crossed his arms. “Alright. Start from the beginning. How did all this with Patrick start?”

I took a deep breath. “It started years ago during my first trip to New Zealand fifteen years ago. I met Patrick at the bar that I met Scott but I declined any drinks from him.  I found gifts, notes, dead animals and a lot worse left on my porch where I was staying. It escalated slowly at first, but then his behavior became invasive and terrifying. Calls, death threats, constant harassment. I finally confronted him one night and I thought it ended, but it didn’t. When I traveled on the behalf of different governments between that first trip to New Zealand and the trip I just came back from, I knew that there were leaks because he always found a way to find me and scare me. The governments always denied the leaks but I didn’t have enough evidence to prove it. A week or so before I came back, Patrick was caught and was put in a secure wing of the psych ward attached the prison. He committed suicide not long after getting admitted to the psych ward. Even now, I can feel traces of it if I’m not careful.”

Darnell exhaled sharply. “Fifteen years carrying that around… I can’t believe it.”

“I didn’t realize how connected it all was until recently,” I admitted.

He nodded. “And Mike?”

“Mike is—was—Patrick’s nephew.”

He blinked, then swore under his breath. “So he’s been around all this time, knowing…?”

“Yes,” I said. “He knew almost everything but anything until I confronted him when I said that I knew he and Patrick were related. He said that all he knew was that he had severe mental health issues however it was clear that he knew more than what he was admitting.”

Darnell leaned back, shaking his head. “Do you think you’re in danger from him?”

“Who, Mike? No,” I said quickly. “But I want him to understand I’m not alone. I’m protected.”

He nodded. “Good. He needs to be clear about that.”

I smiled faintly. “And I want that message to land.”

“So what’s next?” he asked.

“Mike’s moving,” I said. “He’s staying in the school district for the kids as per the estranged wife and their mediator.”

“Should we draw up an eviction notice?”

“Nah. I sent him lists of apartments and movers already.”

“Alright,” he said. “Lunch at Aditi’s?”

“The answer is always Aditi’s,”  I said. “Any ideas of what you want to eat?”

“Oh, about thirty of everything!” he said.

“Sounds reasonable! I’m not sure how long she’ll let us stay there before wanting to kick us out,” I said as I chuckled. “Let me go get dressed.”

I went upstairs. I put on panties, leggings, a sweatshirt – sans bra - and winter boots. When I came downstairs, Darnell stared at my chest and grinned. “You’re trouble.”

“Bras are overrated,” I said.

“Agreed!” he said as he chuckled.

We walked the three blocks, cold air stinging our cheeks. The moment I pushed open Aditi’s door, warmth and spice enveloped us.

Aditi’s eyes lit up immediately. “DeppGrl! How are you feeling? And here have you been, Darnell? You used to come by all the time.”

Darnell chuckled. “Busy…”

“Busy? You look like you haven’t eaten in months,” she said. “Go sit down at her favorite table and we’ll bring out some food and wine.”

We slid into my favorite booth; hidden but still able to see everything and everyone. Food began arriving—samosas, chili paneer, lamb vindaloo, biryani, dal, naan, and a dish she was experimenting with.

“You’re feeding us like we haven’t eaten in months,” I said.

“That’s because you both look like you haven’t,” she said, pointing at Darnell. “Deppgrl, I have no clue who fed you while you were in New Zealand because you lost weight and it’s clear that Darnell hasn’t eaten a home cooked meal in months!”

Darnell leaned back into the booth as Aditi left, looking at me. “Actually, while we’re here, I guess I can tell you. I went undercover for a few weeks. That cult was intense and they were the worst that I’ve dealt with. They were hardcore believers into their beliefs and it was a police state, to be honest. If you were caught doing anything against their bylaws, they believed in 700 calories a day and constant physical labor were the cure for that. Even if you were following the rules, they only allowed 900 calories.  I had to maintain cover by following their guidelines but as I was doing what I was sent there to do, it broke them. They were busted because of my work.”

“Were you cleared by your doctor when you were debriefed?” I asked.

“Yeah but barely,” he said with a sly grin. “I told him that I was going to come here with you and he immediately cleared me!”

“Glad to hear that, friend,” I said.

I am going to talk to his captain, Claire Montoya, sometime today, I told myself. Darnell’s almost 45 and he can’t be doing this severe undercover thing as much as he’s used. I know, I am calling the kettle black but I’m not constantly putting myself at risk like he is.

“Deppgrl? Hellooooooooooooooo?” Darnell said. “You still there?”

“Yeah, I’m here,” I snapped back to his company. “Sorry, I was committing something to memory.”

“Speaking of commitments, I’m going to ask Jessica to marry me,” he said. “I need your help with getting the ring. You have connections to jewelers.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Already planning your proposal?”

“Yeah,” he said with a grin. “She’s been amazing, and it’s time.”

I smiled. “Good. You do have to tell her that you’re spending time alone with me though! The last time I knew something that she didn’t, it didn’t go well.”

“Fair enough,” he said. “Between you and me, you’re annoying as fuck.”

“I know!”

Aditi laughed as she overheard while bringing to go containers to our table. “You two are impossible! You’re worse than siblings!”

I laughed so hard I snorted, clutching my ribs. “Stop! My ribs!”

Darnell leaned back, shaking his head, laughing.

Before the to-go containers arrived, the door opened and Bob came in.

“DeppGrl!” he said, hugging me too tightly. “Why didn’t you tell me that you were home?”

“Bob!” I laughed, pushing against him. “Loosen up! I was going to tell you after lunch.”

He smirked. “No, you weren’t!”

We laughed. He grabbed a plate and utensils from another table, sat next to Darnell and dug into the food while we continued chatting.

“This is amazing,” he said. “Why did I have to hear from Vince that you were home?”

“I told you that I was going to tell you after lunch,” I said, “You just didn’t want to listen to me.”

Bob shook his head, grinning. “You’re unbelievable.”

Aditi and her servers arrived with more food, and Darnell said, “You’re going to have to roll us out of here, Aditi.”

Aditi grinned. “I wouldn’t mind.”

We all laughed as Darnell, Bob and I ate even more. We ate until we were beyond stuffed.

Bob went into the kitchen to grab a to go containers for himself. I heard Aditi yell at him and he left seconds later with a smile on his face. Once he got to the table, he packed his to go container to the brim, closed it and nodded to us.

He hugged me again, shook Darnell’s hand, and said, “See you soon.”

As he left, Addit came with a few large bags and about three hundred to go containers, I asked Aditi how much we owed her.

“$800,” she said casually.

I handed her $1,200. She hugged me gently.

“You’re too generous,” she whispered in my ear.

“No,” I said. “You’re undercharging me a ton, my friend. I gave you more than what the bill should’ve been. Staff, food, fuel, and overhead all need to be taken care of. You know it, I know it.”

We hugged goodbye and headed back to my place. On the way, I told Darnell, “Aditi is behind on rent.”

“How do you know?” he asked. “How far behind?”

“The landlord is a friend of Bob’s from years ago and he told me -in passing - before I left New Zealand. said that he’s looking to evict her,” I said. “Four months, $35,000.”

He nodded. “We both know what we have to do.”

“Yes,” I said. “Put the food in the fridge at my place, then head to the landlord’s office and catch her up.”

We booked it to my place, stored the food, then hopped into his candy apple red 1963 Alfa Romeo 33 Stradale. What should’ve been a forty-five-minute drive took thirty.

I jumped out before Darnell could stop the car. “Wait here. I’ll be a few minutes.”

I took the stairs two at a time, reaching the third floor and catching my breath before walking into the office. I approached the receptionists’ desk and spoke with Rose.

“I’m here to pay Aditi’s past-due rent and her upcoming rent,” I said.

Rose looked at her computer. “Give me a second to access her account.”

A moment later, she looked up. “She’s behind her rent by four months. It’s $35,000.”

“I’ll pay that and a full year’s rent as well,” I said.

She calculated it. “That comes to $140,000.”

I paid it gladly. “Ok. Oh when or if Aditi asks, please tell her that a generous but anonymous donor took care of it.”

Rose nodded. “Understood.”

I turned and left, taking a deep breath as I ran down the stairs back to Darnell.

“Done?” he asked.

“Done,” I said, smiling. “$140,000 later. Totally worth it!”

He nodded, a rare softness in his eyes.  “She’s lucky to have you and yes, she’s worth it.”

I slid into the car beside him, and we drove off, the weight finally lifting, knowing Aditi was safe and secure.

As Darnell and I headed back to my house, my phone rang. It was Vic, and I answered.

“Vic, hey,” I said.

“Hey,” he replied. “How are you? How’s your day going?”

“Hey,” I said. “Darnell and I went to Aditi’s for lunch, ran an errand, and we’re just a few minutes from home now. How’s your day been?”

“Not too bad, but super busy with the holidays,” he said. “Good to hear you got out for a little bit. I’ll be over in a few hours to spend the night.”

“What do you want to do about dinner?” I asked. “I can heat up leftovers or cook. You spend your whole day cooking for everyone else… you deserve a break.”

“Tonight? I’ll cook here and bring it to you,” he said. “Something warm and comforting. I’m thinking pasta, or chicken, or maybe a combination of both.”

“You’re too good to me, Papa,” I said, smiling. “I don’t mind cooking.”

“I know you don’t, but I mind,” Vic replied with a chuckle. “Hate to break it to you, amore, but you can’t really cook. You bake sweets beautifully, but cooking? Not your strong suit.”

“Ouch,” I said, laughing. “That’s a little harsh!”

 

After the night’s team and silence

I woke with the kind of clarity that lands like impact.

For a few seconds, I stayed still, staring at the dim ceiling while the weight of realization settled into my chest. I hadn’t taken an emergency contraceptive. And I hadn’t done my Depo injection either. I had reminded myself after the shower that I took last night but I was too distracted by Vic.

Slowly, I reached into the nightstand drawer and felt for the packet. It was still there as I knew it would be. I peeled it open quietly, tipped the pill into my mouth, and took several sips of water to swallow it. Only after it went down did I allow myself to breathe fully.

Then I got up and headed to the closet. I gathered the Depo injection kit and an alcohol pad then headed into the bathroom. I cleaned an area on my abdomen with the alcohol pad, waited for the area to dry, then administered the medication with practiced steadiness. When it was done, I capped the pen and dropped it into the sharps container beneath the sink.

Routine steadied my hands. It didn’t steady my thoughts.

I brushed my teeth and studied my reflection without much expression. Nothing on my face gave anything away. I turned off the light and walked back into the bedroom to throw on an oversized shirt.

Vic was waking up.

He shifted beneath the sheets, eyes barely open when they found me. “Good morning,” he murmured.

“Morning,” I said. I stayed near the doorway. “Do you want coffee?”

“Yeah,” he said after a moment. “I’ll be down in a few. Just need to shower before heading to work.”

He stood and crossed the room. At the bathroom door, he paused and glanced back at me.

“Oh—Mike gave me my sweats back. He washed them.”

“That’s good,” I said.

The door shut then the shower turned on. I left the room.

Downstairs, the kitchen felt stripped bare in the early hour. I filled the coffee machine with water, added the grounds, and pressed the button. The mechanical whir cut through the quiet.

I opened the refrigerator and pulled out the food Aditi had brought the night before. I set two of them on the counter and didn’t bother reheating anything. I ate cold, straight from containers—rice and vegetables first, then butter chicken. The flavors were sharper without being heated up.

The coffee finished brewing. I poured two mugs—his black and mine light and sweet. Steam curled up against my face as I took a drink.

Upstairs, water continued to run through the pipes but stopped just a moment later.

By the time footsteps sounded on the stairs, I had finished eating and rinsed the containers. Vic entered the kitchen in his freshly washed sweats, hair still damp, posture easy. He picked up his mug without asking.

“You already ate?” he asked.

“Aditi’s leftovers,” I said. “Didn’t feel like waiting.”

He nodded and took a sip. “Thanks for the coffee.”

We stood there in silence—close, familiar, untouched. The kind of quiet that could mean comfort or distance depending on how long it lasted.

The doorbell cut through the quiet of the kitchen, sharp and out of place against the low hum of the refrigerator. I glanced toward the hallway, still holding my half-finished mug of coffee.

“I’ll get it,” Vic said, already pushing away from the counter. His mug made a soft clink as he set it beside mine.

“Alright,” I said, still leaning against the counter where I’d been eating the cold leftovers from the food that Aditi had brought the night before. I watched him walk away.

He disappeared around the corner, and seconds later, I heard the front door opened.

Mike’s voice came through immediately—tense, too loud for the morning.

“She’s  really not answering my texts now?” Mike snapped.

Vic’s reply was low but sharp enough to carry. “She’s not doing this with you. You promised me last night—you said you’d move.”

“I offered,” Mike fired back. “Depending on what she wants. Did you even ask her? Or are you just deciding everything for her because you’re playing fucking hero now?”

The words landed like a slap. I froze with my mug halfway to my mouth.

I set it down quietly on the counter and stepped out of the kitchen, my bare feet silent against the floor. I moved toward the living room, the argument sharpening as I got closer.

Vic stepped forward. “I’m not playing anything. You broke her trust. You put her in danger and almost brought him to her. Don’t pretend this isn’t complicated.”

“So ask her,” Mike shot back. “Ask her if she wants me gone. Or are you afraid of the answer?”

That was when I reached them.

I walked up behind Vic—close enough to see the tension in his shoulders, the clean line of his back, the fact that he really wasn’t wearing a shirt—and spoke before either of them realized I was there.

“I do.”

Both of them turned. Vic blinked, startled. Mike’s mouth pulled tight, like he already knew what I was going to say but hoped I wouldn’t say it out loud.

I met Mike’s eyes without flinching. “Yes. I want you to move. I don’t want daily reminders of how you broke my trust. And I’m not going to live next to someone who’s related to my former stalker and who knew but didn’t have the balls to say anything to me about it. You should go.”

Mike swallowed hard, anger and guilt fighting in his expression. “You really feel that way?”

“I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t.”

I didn’t wait for either of their reactions. I turned and walked back into the kitchen, the smell of coffee warming the air as I picked up my mug again.

Behind me, I heard Mike exhale sharply. “Fine,” he muttered. “But answer something first.”

There was a beat—a long, quiet stretch of air before he asked:

“Do you love her?”

Vic didn’t even pause. His voice was steady, firm. “Of course I do. Why else would I be here?”

I didn’t hear Mike’s response. His voice dropped too low, swallowed by the hallway. But I heard the door close—solid, final—followed by footsteps retreating down the porch.

Then silence.

A moment later, Vic shuffled back into the kitchen. I didn’t turn until I heard him stop beside me, the warmth of his presence replacing the cold morning air.

“Mi amore,” he whispered as he wrapped me up tight in his arms, pulling me close to his bare chest. “Do you want me to stay here with you? I can call out.”

“I’ll text my friend Darnell to see if he can spare anyone or even himself,” I said muffled against his chest. “Do you really love me, Papa?”

“Darnell’s the cop, right?” he asked. “Yes, I do, amore.”

“Yeah, he is,” I said. “Same.”

We stayed in that hug for a long time before he let go.

“Alright, amore,” he sighed. “I need to head to work. I’ll check in on throughout the day, ok?”

“Ok, Papa,” I said.

We broke from the hug and I watched him head upstairs to finish getting ready for work. As he was getting ready, I made him more coffee for him and put it in a travel tumbler and packed leftover food from Aditi. He came down a few minutes later.

“What’s all this?” he asked with that sexy smile of his.

“Fresh coffee and food,” I said. “You need the energy to keep going throughout the day. You put in overtime last night.”

“Thank you, amore,” he said as he kissed me. “I’ll be in touch later.”

“You’re welcome,” I said. “Sounds good. Thank you for spending the night.”

Vic kissed me once more then left. I texted Darnell what the situation was and he said that he’d be right over. I thanked him and then cleaned up the kitchen.

 

Under one's skin

I knew that when Mike left, that was it—there was no coming back from it, and there would be no chance for he and I to ever start a romantic relationship. Scott and I were no more. Any chance with Vic was also gone, though in truth, there really hadn’t been much of a chance to begin with. And Vince, it seemed, would be happier with Emily than he ever was with me, so any relationship I might have had with Vince, with Emily in the picture, would have been complicated. And my sweet friend Ronan was—and is!—a great man, but not what I needed or wanted in a relationship. He took great care of me while we briefly dated back in college and never treated me like I was a charity case because of the financial circles we ran in; however, I planned and organized all the dates, and he would simply show up when and where the date was and pay for it.

Later that night, my phone buzzed.
Vince: Hey. I wanted to let you know I’ve got a concussion and some bruised ribs from hitting the seat in front of me, but I’m ok and finally home.
Me: Thankfully, that’s all you have. Are you being taken care of?
Vince: Yeah. Emily’s taking good care of me and ordered food from a local place.
Me: Good. I’m glad she’s staying with you.
A few minutes later, another text came in.
Vince: She’s leaving when I go to bed…. she didn’t want me to think poorly of her. I asked her how I could after bringing me to the hospital, waiting for me, and keeping her promise of having dinner with me tonight.
Me: After spending just over thirty hours with her over the last six weeks, I can attest no one could think poorly of her. I am happy that she’s keeping her promise to have dinner with you. Anyone staying with you tonight?
Vince: I told her that when I am feeling better, I’ll make it up to her. My sister is. You?
Me: Yikes. Hope she doesn’t cause bodily harm! We both know she hates me and she’ll hate me even more when she finds out I was involved in your injuries. Not sure if I’m up for company. Mike’s long gone once I told him that I know that his uncle was my stalker…. he’s known for over six weeks and still didn’t say anything.
Vince: She knows that you’re important to me, and if she says anything negative about you, she knows she’s getting booted from the house and I’ll go no contact. Want me to send Bob?
Me: Woot woot! We both know that if you call Bob, he’ll come running over and try to move in with me. I love my brother, but the last thing I want is for him to move in with me. The last time we stayed in the same Airbnb, it  got ugly.
Vince: Fair enough! And no, I don’t want to know. Vic is a no-go, Matteo maybe? Unsure if he’s still in love with you.
Me: Vic is a go, Matteo is a no-go….. he’ll always be in love with himself first, then sports, followed by me.
Vince: I’ll text Vic in a few minutes as dinner just got here. Going to help Emily unload the bags and get situated, then I’ll text him. Want Bob to know?
Me: Sounds good. Thanks. And no, I do NOT want Bob to know. It’s like me asking you if you want your ex-wife to know.
Vince: Fair enough, ha ha! Have a good night.
Me: You too! Make sure you walk Emily to her car.
Vince: I will!

After putting my phone back on its charging base, I got up and finished cleaning up from dinner with Mike. It wasn’t hard, as we ate most of the food and we had so few dishes. I cleaned the bathroom, sprayed the kitchen counters to clean them, and lit a few candles. Once done with all of that, I turned the TV to selected a different channel that played music; I didn't want the same one as I when Mike was over. As I was about to grab wine glasses out of the cabinet, I heard Vic’s familiar knock on the door. I quickly shuffled over to the door and opened it.

“Hey, Papa,” I said, breathing in his familiar scent. “Come on in.”
“Hey, Amore,” he whispered as he kissed me. “Thanks. It’s getting cold.”

He stepped inside, and I closed the door behind him, the lock clicking softly into place. Vic turned to face me, his eyes searching mine.

“How are you feeling?” he asked gently. “Do you need anything?”

I shook my head slowly. “I don’t need anything… except you. And one of your hugs.”

A soft smile spread across his face. “I can take care of that.”

He opened his arms, and I stepped into them, fitting against him like I belonged there. He wrapped me up tightly, one hand resting against my back, the other at my waist. We didn’t speak as we held each other—just stood there, breathing, steady and quiet. About twenty minutes passed before we finally loosened our hold on each other, neither of us quite ready to let go when we did.

Vic looked at me again, concern softening his expression. “Seriously… what else do you need right now?”

I glanced at him and smiled. “Honestly… maybe a glass or two of wine.”

He shook his head gently. “I don’t think that would be good with the meds you’re taking.”

I nodded. “Yeah… you’re right.”

I headed to the kitchen, opening the cabinet for my muscle relaxer and the bottle of Ibuprofen 800 mg. I poured myself a glass of milk and grabbed a single-serve cup of creme brûlée flavored yogurt. Though I had eaten about an hour ago, I preferred to have a little something before taking the Ibuprofen—I didn’t want my stomach destroyed. I ate the yogurt slowly, savoring the flavor, then took the muscle relaxer and Ibuprofen with the milk. After finishing, I tossed the glass and spoon into the dishwasher and placed the empty yogurt cup into the recycling bin after rinsing it and the sink.

I turned back toward the living room, finding Vic still waiting for me, his gaze calm and patient.

“All set?” he asked softly.

“Yeah,” I said, moving toward him. “Thanks.”

He offered his arm. “What are you up for now?”

I hesitated briefly. “Are you cool if we just listen to music and chill?”

He tilted his head, considering. “I’d prefer a movie… but I know that your head hurts from the concussion. We’ll do music.”

I smiled, feeling a small wave of relief, as he reached for the TV remote to change the “station” to a different music channel that was still playing when Mike was over. I grabbed a thick blanket and draped it across the couch, then held it open for him.

“Here,” I said, patting the spot next to me. “Come sit.”

He sat down, pulling me close under the blanket. “You know,” he murmured, “even when we’re just listening to music, it’s perfect being here with you.”

I snuggled against him, resting my head lightly on his shoulder. “I couldn’t agree more.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of my head and then asked again, softly, “Anything else you need?”

I shook my head with a small smile. “No… well, just you. And maybe one more hug.”

Vic chuckled quietly. “I think I can manage that.” He pulled me in again, and this hug lasted long—long enough that my body relaxed completely, melting into his arms. The warmth, the steady heartbeat against mine, and the quiet music made the world outside vanish. My eyelids grew heavy, and slowly, I fell asleep in Vic’s arms, safe and utterly at peace.

Hours later, I woke up next to Vic in my bed. God, I love this man. I know that he isn’t mine but I appreciate the love and the care he provides me. He’ll never leave the wife nor do I expect him to. He pulled me to his chest and pinched my nipples.

“I thought you were sleeping, Papa,” I moaned as I arched my back.

“I was but I’ve learned to wake up when you wake up, amore,” as he kissed my neck. “I want you!”

“I want you, too,” I whispered as I rolled onto my stomach and spread my legs.

“Condoms, bebé?” Vic asked as he got situated between my legs.

“No, Papa,” I said as I lifted my hips. “I want just you.”

“Good,” Vic grunted as he pushed the tip of his massive dick into my wet pussy. “God, I have missed this with you, amore.”

His hands were already on my hips when he began to push his dick in me, slow at first—just enough to make me suck in a sharp breath before he filled me in one smooth, ruthless thrust.

“Christ,” he muttered. “You’re still so fucking tight. You’re perfect.”

I braced my hands on the bed, looking back at him over my shoulder. “You don’t get to talk like you own me.”

His grip tightened. “Never said I owned you. I said I wanted you.”

The difference hit harder than the hard thrust he gave me right after.

“You feel that?” he growled as he ground his hips and dick into me.

I pushed back into him deliberately. “You mean how you’re losing control?”

A breathless laugh left him as he snapped his hips forcefully forward again. “You always run your mouth when you’re winning.”

“And you always fuck harder when you’re challenged.”

His forehead dropped between my shoulder blades for half a second before he surged again. “Equal power,” he said through his teeth. “Definitely not how you like it.”

“Face it, Papa, you love it when I am in charge, too.”

The sound of skin on skin filled the room, the rhythm fast, dirty, unapologetic. His fingers dug into my hips, guiding me back into every thrust.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” I gasped. “My god, Vic....”

“You going to stop me?”

“No.”

“Then don’t pretend this isn’t what you wanted.”

I pushed back harder, earning a low, broken sound from his throat.

“Still feral as fuck,” he said. “I have always loved how feral you are.”

“Still arrogant.”

“You’re soaking,” he shot back.

“Shut up and don’t slow down.”

“That’s not a denial.”

My head fell forward as his thrusts turned brutal, relentless. Every nerve lit up. The room felt too warm, too loud, too small for what we were doing in it.

“You’re shaking,” he murmured.

“Not from fear.”

“Good,” he said darkly. “Because I’m not being gentle.”

“Don’t you dare.”

Another hard thrust stole the last of the sentence from my mouth.

“This is dangerous,” I panted.

“You were never scared of danger with me.”

“That’s because you’re the danger.”

His hands slid up my back, one wrapping around my throat—not squeezing, just holding, claiming.

“Say it,” he commanded quietly.

“Say what?”

“That you want this.”

I met his eyes in the reflection of the dark window.

“I won’t deny it,” I moaned. “You’re about to cum.”

His control snapped.

The rhythm broke into something savage and reckless and full of everything we shouldn’t be doing and were doing anyway. My nails scraped against the bed, then against his forearm as the edge closed in.

“Vic—don’t stop—”

His name ripped from my throat again and again as everything shattered at once—my body locking, his breath breaking apart behind me as he buried himself deep and stayed there, shaking as he filled me with his cum.

For a moment, neither of us moved.

Then he pressed his forehead to my back, still inside me, still holding me like he wasn’t ready to let go of the damage we’d just done.

“We just crossed every damn line,” he murmured.

I was still catching my breath. “We’ve been crossing that line for years.”

His hands slid slowly back to my hips. “And you still don’t run.”

I looked back at him.

“Neither do you.”

Vic pulled out and rolled me onto my back.

“How’s your head, amore?” he said as he kissed me.

“It’s fine,” I said with a sly smile. “How’s yours?”

“Ya estoy listo otra vez.”

“Lo se,” I said. “¡Siempre lo estás!”

“I find it sexy when you speak Spanish, bebé. I can’t get over how tight you are.”

Vic pushed his giant dick into me hard, the force of him driving me against the mattress. I gasped, nails digging into his shoulders as he didn’t give me a moment to adjust.

“Fuck… you feel so good,” he growled, voice low and dangerous as he was thrusting in and out of me.

I arched, trembling. “Vic… don’t stop.”

His hand slid along my side, gripping tighter. “I wasn’t planning to.”

“You’re insane,” I hissed, knowing that he would pleasure me as long as I needed and wanted him to.

“Insane for you and this pussy of yours,” Vic grunted as he was thrusting his dick deeper into me. “You have no idea how much I missed you the last few weeks, amore!”

“I’m gonna…” I started.

“Cum!” both Vic and I screamed as we both climaxed.

Vic put both of my thighs over his shoulders, thrusting in and out of me  in a frenzy as he shot his cum deep inside of me.

“Marry me!” he grunted as his body shuddered as he finished cumming in me. “My god, I could spend the rest of my life with you.”

“No,” I said as I pushed him off me, the last few drops of his cum fell onto my stomach. “You have a wife and kids.”

I got up from the bed and headed into the bathroom. I am not going to lie….it’s true that I love Vic and I have loved him since the first time we had sex so many years ago. I wasn’t going to admit that to him nor was I going to tell him to leave his wife and kids behind for me.

I sighed then turned the water on for the shower.  As I moved to grab a towel to hang up next to the tub, I felt his cum drip down my leg. I regretted not using the self-injection Depo birth control after getting home from the flight and hospital but I knew that I was going to use emergency contraceptive after getting out of the shower. I got into the tub to take my shower and the hot water felt amazing. I took my time washing and conditioning my hair.

“Do you want to remain being my side piece?” Vic asked as he joined me in the shower.

“Yes, I do,” I said as I turned around and put my hand on his giant dick. I began to stroke him. “I’m not getting married again, Papa. No matter how amazing their dick is.”

I continued to stroke his dick as he washed his hair. In no time, he came in my hand several times. He moaned my name as he came.

“Stop wasting my cum,” he muttered as he pushed me against the shower wall, spread my legs and shoved his pulsating dick into my pussy from behind.

“Faster, Papa,” I moaned.

Vic fucked me as hard and as fast as he could and I loved it. We came hard and often. Ten or fifteen minutes later, he pulled his dick out of my ass and moaned my name.

“I want you in the kitchen after our shower,” he moaned as he bit my shoulder.

“I love when we screw in the kitchen,” I said as I quickly lathered my body with soap. I rinsed off and got out of the shower. “Find me when you’re done!”

I dried off the best that I could, brushed my hair and applied deodorant. Before heading downstairs, I hung up my towel so it could dry properly. Once downstairs, I grabbed a paper plate and a napkin, carefully placing both on the kitchen peninsula. I got up on the peninsula and sat on the plate, spreading my legs. Seconds later, Vic found me in the kitchen.

“Hungry?” I asked.

“Always,” he murmured as he dropped to his knees.

Vic ate my pussy for who knows how long that night. I came on his tongue repeatedly and screamed his name; I didn’t want him to stop. When my body stopped shuddering from the last orgasm, Vic stood up. He headed to his overnight bag to grab his toothbrush and headed to my bathroom to brush his teeth. He knows how important it is to me for him to brush his teeth after eating my pussy.

I got off the counter, threw the paper plate and the napkin out, cleaned the counter and headed upstairs to take a quick shower. After drying off again, I tackled the sheets from my bed. I stripped my bed, threw the bedding into the hallway then grabbed fresh bedding and made my bed. As I was heading downstairs with the used bedding, Vic said that he’d start the wash for me. I thanked him.

I grabbed us water for our respective nightstands. I climbed into bed and once situated, I checked my phone for emails and texts. I had one from Mike.

Mike: You might want to keep it down next time—some of us didn’t sign up to hear your reunion tour.
Me: Then maybe you should learn how to mind your own business—or invest in better headphones.
Mike: You’re lucky the kids weren’t here.
Me: Even if they were, they would be asleep. Maybe invest in some white noise machines.

Vic joined me a moment after me putting my phone down. He knew that I was upset.

“Mike?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I said.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” he said as he got dressed.

I tried to sleep but I couldn't. I was worried about the both of them, Vic more than Mike and I also heard raised voices. Their “conversation” lasted a long time and I eventually fell asleep. When Vic returned to my house, he woke me up to let me know what happened between he and Mike.

Vic was sitting on the edge of the bed next to me, his hand brushing my face as he exhaled slowly. “I talked to Mike.”

My stomach tightened. “And?”

“He’s hurt,” Vic said quietly. “Not about the sex. About you shutting him down when you confronted him about Patrick.”

A short, hollow laugh left me. “Good. Because I was hurt when I found out he’s known for years that his uncle was a stalker.”

“He said he didn’t know it was you until recently.”

“And yet he still moved in next door two and a half months ago without telling me he even had a clue,” I snapped. “That part seems to get skipped over every time.”

Vic nodded once. “I told him that.”

My eyes flicked to his. “What exactly did you tell him?”

“That Patrick didn’t just ‘bother’ you,” he said. “That he destroyed your sense of safety. That he messed with your head and that he did real emotional and mental damage to you.”

My throat tightened, but I stayed quiet.

“And I told him,” Vic continued, voice firm, “that you don’t trust him anymore because he didn’t tell you he knew that Patrick was stalking you when he moved in next door. That he took away your ability to choose for yourself.”

I swallowed. “What did he say to that?”

“He said he thought staying quiet was protecting you.”

A bitter sound tore out of me. “That’s bullshit.”

“I told him that choosing silence isn’t protection—it’s a decision,” Vic said. “And he made it for you.”

My hands curled in the blanket. “That’s exactly it.”

“He also said he feels like he lost you the moment you realized how much he knew.”

“He did,” I said flatly. “The second he admitted it, something broke. I don’t know if it can be rebuilt. I just know I don’t trust him anymore.”

Vic studied my face. “I told him that too.”

I finally looked at him. “You did?”

“I said you’re not reacting out of anger,” Vic said. “You’re reacting because the ground under you isn’t solid anymore.”

Silence stretched between us.

“He asked if there was any way back,” Vic said.

My voice came out steady, but tired. “And?”

“I told him he doesn’t get to decide that. You do.”

I exhaled. “He was hurt that I shut him down?”

“Yeah.”

“I was hurt that he watched me live under a shadow and stayed quiet,” I said. “I think that’s worse.”

Vic shifted slightly closer to me. “Before I left, he offered to move as soon as he could.”

That made me pause. “He did?”

“Yeah,” Vic said. “And I told him he should—because I was positive that you weren’t interested in knowing he was still your neighbor.”

I didn’t hesitate. “That was the perfect answer.”

Vic’s mouth curved slightly. “I thought you’d say that.”

“Thank you, Papa,” I said as he kissed me on my lips. “Let’s get to sleep. You need it.”

“So do you, viejito,” I said as I smiled.

Vic stripped and joined me in bed. He pulled me close to his chest, wrapped me in his arms and we fell asleep in seconds.

A dinner of spices and secrets

Aditi finished folding her insulated delivery bags just as Mike came downstairs.

“The famous Aditi,” he said, reaching out his hand. “I’m……”

“The skinny neighbor,” she teased, shaking it. “Please take care of my sweet friend tonight. Feed her, make her hydrate, and make sure she not only goes to bed but gets some sleep. I’ll take over in the morning.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Mike replied. “It’s clear we both care deeply about Deppgrl. I’ll make sure she’s in better shape when you come in the morning.”

“Please do, young man.” Aditi turned to me. “I’m glad you’re home, my dear friend. Fill me in tomorrow. Shall I use my key in the morning?”

“Always,” I said, hugging her. “I’ll tell you everything within reason as there are some things you don’t want to hear. And yes, you’re always welcome to use your key.”

We ended our hug. She gathered her bags and stepped out, locking the door behind her.

I organized the takeout containers on the counter and began opening them, letting the spices fill the kitchen.

Mike leaned forward. “Okay, now you’ve got to walk me through this. There’s so much food.”

I lifted the first lid. “Paneer butter masala. Mild, creamy, very friendly.”

“Friendly food,” he said. “My comfort zone.”

Next came chana masala. “Medium heat. Enough to get your attention.”

“Ah, the gateway spice,” he murmured.

I snorted and opened the next container. “Butter chicken. Mild to medium — sweeter, richer, crowd favorite.”

Mike’s eyes widened. “I’ve actually heard of that one. I feel accomplished.”

I pushed another box toward him. “Aloo gobi — potatoes and cauliflower, medium spice.”

He peeked inside. “Smells harmless.”

“It isn’t,” I warned. “It sneaks up on you.”

The next container was heavier. “Chicken vindaloo.”

Mike leaned back. “Ah. The danger dish.”

“Correct. Approach with humility.”

I reached for the appetizers.

“Oh my god,” he whispered. “There’s more?”

“Of course.” I lined them up like a sampler tray. “Vegetable samosas — mild. Potato and peas.”

He lifted one. “Smells amazing.”

“Those are the gentle ones,” I said. “These,” I pointed to another box, “chicken samosas. Medium heat.”

“Still safe?” he asked hopefully.

“Safer than your life choices,” I said as I chuckled.

Mike laughed. “Great.”

“These,” I said, opening the next box, “beef samosas. Spicier. Not vindaloo-level, but they make a point.”

He pushed them an inch away. “Understood.”

“And these,” I added, opening the last appetizer box, “paneer tikka bites. Not samosas, but absolutely essential.”

He inhaled deeply. “If these taste half as good as they smell, I’m going to cry.”

I opened two more entrées while I was at it. “Dal makhani — black lentils, rich and buttery, very mild. And saag chicken — spinach gravy, medium spice.”

He blinked at the full spread. “This is a full on meal for fifteen people.”

“It is. Last two things — garlic naan and plain naan. Your lifelines when you attempt poor life choices.”

He slowly reached for a plate as he laughed. “Thank you for believing I might attempt poor life choices. Again.”

“Your confidence concerns me. Start with the butter chicken,” I said.

Mike nudged the safe dishes closer. “Sounds good. Please remind me which dish is spicy. There are so many I won’t remember.”

“Eh, it was an easy lesson to follow,” I said. “I just might enjoy watching you eat spicy food.”

We ate in silence for ten minutes. When we’d settled, Mike leaned back, placing his utensils on his plate.

“Why was your trip cut short?” he asked, grabbing more food. “And man, Aditi and her food are amazing. No wonder you say so much about her.”

I paused, fork hovering over the butter chicken. “A few things, actually. Scott and I - he’s head coach of the All Blacks - aren’t continuing our friendship due to numerous things. I had implemented changes and suspended him without pay because he wasn’t following what I said and implemented. He’s a good man but estranged from his wife….it’s very toxic. Vic dropped by unexpectedly – he and I worked for my brother at his restaurant restaurant, and we’ve had an on-and-off situationship. Though I greatly appreciated the visit, it was the end of what we had. Then there’s Ronan, an old college friend. We dated briefly, but it didn’t work out. He comes from old money — his parents wanted him to date and marry someone from their circle. He did get engaged from their circle, but as the wedding date came closer, she realized he was in love with me. She ended the relationship and married someone else about five years later. Before I left to come home, he admitted that he’s been in love with me since college but never said anything…we dated others through the years. We’ve barely kept in touch over the years though we know what’s going on in each other’s lives.”

Mike frowned. “And the person from your past you mentioned?”

I met his gaze evenly, curt. “A former stalker. Not an issue anymore.”

“Thank fuck for that,” he muttered.

We finished eating in silence. As I got up to put my plate in the sink, Mike said he’d grab the clothes he was wearing earlier and head home, returning the sweatpants I lent him in a few days. I nodded and asked if he wanted any food for himself or the kids. He declined.

“I didn’t kill him,” I said as Mike was opening the door.

“What?” Mike asked.

“My former stalker,” I said. “Your uncle, Patrick. He killed himself in a secure psych wing of the prison after his arrest.”

“We weren’t told that,” Mike said quietly. “We all knew he wasn’t well.”

“Of course your family wasn’t told,” I said coldly. “I’ve done my best to avoid him for fifteen years. The second I admit I had a stalker, you knew it was him and shut down. You then began to act as if I killed him.”

“He was my uncle,” Mike sighed.

“I don’t care if he was the pope,” I said, grabbing my phone. “What he did was wrong, and you know it. By the time you get home, you’ll have the CCTV footage showing he killed himself. Good night, Mike. Keep the sweats.”

Mike left, closing the door behind him. Seconds later, I found the CCTV video on my phone and sent it to him.

What I didn’t tell Mike was that I knew that someone inside that psych ward of the prison had gotten inside Patrick’s head, pushing him to kill himself. I was informed of this hours after being informed of his death and this person was never identified. I wasn’t aware of any mental health issues that Patrick may or may not have had the time though I knew he was rather fragile and me declining his invitations to go to dinner and to be in a relationship with him got to the best of him. I still wish his soul well.

Quiet steps into familiar spaces

A few minutes after I had settled back into my seat, Hector appeared quietly beside me. “Deppgrl, the pilots would like a word,” he said gently.

I raised an eyebrow but followed him without protest, curiosity nudging me forward. The aisle seemed narrower than usual with the cabin lights dimmed, and I felt a small flutter of unease as we approached the cockpit. Every subtle hum of the engines seemed amplified, the vibrations underfoot reminding me I was high above the earth.

Inside, Pierre and Markian looked up from their instruments, both wearing attentive but neutral expressions. Pierre spoke first. “Are you okay?”

I shrugged lightly, forcing a small smile. “I’m fine. Do you need anything?”

Markian shook his head. “No, we’re fine. We just worried about you and your quick departure.”

I nodded, feeling the tension in my shoulders ease a little. “Thanks but I’m fine.”

Pierre gave a small nod. “Good. We just wanted to make sure that you were ok.”

I offered a polite but annoyed smile. “For the third time, I am fine.”

Markian leaned back slightly, eyes flicking briefly over the instruments. “Understood. We just like to make sure that you're ok with your departure.”

I turned toward the aisle. “Alright. Thanks again for checking.”

Pierre and Markian exchanged a brief glance and then returned to their instruments. “Any time,” Pierre said.

I gave a small wave and stepped back, Hector falling in step beside me. The cabin felt calm again, the soft hum of the engines a steady presence.

As I sank into my seat, I exhaled slowly, letting the quiet fill the space around me. I pulled my book from my tote bag, trying to immerse myself in the pages, but my thoughts wandered. Six weeks had passed since I arrived in New Zealand, and the memories of that time—the intensity, the work, the highs and lows—floated quietly in my mind. I set the book aside and closed my eyes, thinking about Mike. During my wandering thoughts, I fell asleep, restless dreams only bringing fragments of Ronan.

Both Ronan and Mike were good men, and I cared for both. Mike gave me butterflies, and Ronan was comfortable. Mike and I were both middle class, and we knew the struggle of making ends meet when unexpected bills arrived. Ronan was upper class and from old money—I felt so out of place in his world and when we were out in public; we were surrounded by people that were in the upper echelon. I knew Mike would be there when the plane landed....I was glad that I texted him.

Suddenly, the plane hit turbulence, jolting me awake. I was thrown from my seat into the air. As I landed in the aisle, my face grazed a nearby arm rest. Vince was tossed around as well, his head and torso colliding with the seat in front of him. He jolted awake, groaning.

“Vince!” I called, steadying myself and checking that I had all my limbs. My heart was racing.

“I’m okay, I think. My head and chest hurts as I was thrown into the seat in front of me,” he said, rubbing his forehead. “You?”

“I’m probably bruised, but I’ll live,” I said, trying to steady my voice as I got up and got back to my seat.

We buckled back in, gripping the seat belts as the plane rocked for the next thirty minutes. Once the turbulence subsided, Emily and Hector appeared, concern etched on their faces.

“You two okay?” Emily asked, stepping up.

“We’re fine,” Vince said, flexing his shoulders. “Once we land, we’ll consider getting checked out at the local hospital.”

I nodded. “Emily, would you go with Vince? I have a friend meeting me at the tarmac.”

“Of course,” she said with a warm smile. “I’ll be happy to go with him.”

“And you two? How are you both?” I asked Hector.

“We’re fine,” he said, giving a small nod. "We were buckled in."

“I’m glad to hear that,” I said.

Once Emily and Hector left, I unbuckled and made my way to the cockpit. I entered the code I had seen Hector use earlier and stepped inside.

“Why didn’t you announce the turbulence?” I asked Pierre and Markian.

“We assumed you and Vince were buckled in,” Pierre said calmly. “Team policy is everyone stays seated and buckled unless they are walking around to prevent blood clots.”

I blinked. “You do realize Vince and I aren’t members of the All Blacks, right?”

“We do,” Markian replied.

“So how were we supposed to know the policy?” I pressed.

“We assumed Charlie and the owners would have informed you,” Pierre said.

“No one told us and I haven't been on the plane since I arrived to New Zealand. Since we’re on the plane, you should’ve been the ones to tell us,” I said, my voice firm.

They both nodded quickly. “You’re right. Sorry.”

I left the cockpit, collected my belongings from the floor, and checked on Vince. “How’s your head?”

“My headache’s bad and my chest is mediocre, but I’m glad we’re getting checked out,” he said.

I glanced at my watch. “We’ll be landing in about twenty-five minutes. Let’s get ready and then buckle up.”

Vince nodded. We grabbed any remaining belongings that were strewn around te plan due to the turbulence and we secured ourselves. We held hands for a few minutes, silently grounding each other, until we realized Emily might get the wrong idea. I smiled at him. “Thanks for being here.”

He nodded, smiling back.

Twenty-eight minutes later, Markian announced we were ready to land and reminded everyone to buckle up. I turned to Vince, grinning. “Now he tells us! Ha ha ha!”

Vince chuckled. We landed without issue. As the plane pulled up and eventually stopped, our bags were unloaded first. Vince and I grabbed our carry-ons, and he disembarked with Emily by his side. They shook hands with Hector but Vince ignored Pierre and Markian. I waited a few minutes before disembarking so I could give Emily and Vince some privacy. As I disembarked, I hugged Hector, thanking him for taking care of me, ignoring Pierre and Markian as well. They looked a bit embarrassed for their lack of communication. An email to Charlie would be sent in regards of this to get it rectified for other guests on the plane.

Mike was waiting at the tarmac, holding my luggage. I ran over and hugged him tightly.

“Vince told me about the turbulence. He asked me to get you to the hospital to be checked out,” Mike said.

“I’ll do that after customs and converting my money,” I replied. "It could take some time since I have some medications that I bought over there."

“You don’t make anything easy, do you?” he said with a grin.

“I don’t,” I admitted. “I tend to be rather difficult.”

“Clearly,” he said as he chuckled.

Once we pulled back from the hug, we collected my things, passed through customs, and converted my NZD to the currency of our home country. Mike helped me into his SUV as I was sore from being tossed from my seat during the turbulence. As he drove, I drifted to sleep.

He woke me when we arrived at the hospital and helped me inside. I checked in, remembering that I needed to use my insurance card, and was called back a few minutes later. Mike went to follow but I waved him off. “I got this.” He looked slightly annoyed but sat back down. He knew that I didn't like unnecessary hovering.

My vitals were taken, and the doctor examined me carefully as I explained what had happened. 

“Nothing seems broken, thankfully,” the doctor said. “You do have bruised ribs, a mild concussion, and a black eye forming. Both the concussion and the black eye are from hitting the armrest as you landed on the floor.”

“I think I might be pregnant,” I said. “There have been signs.”

“What are some of the symptoms that you’ve been experiencing?” the doctor asked.

“Heightened sex drive, my tits are super sensitive, I am more fatigued then usual and mild nausea,” I said. “My sex drive was so bad on the fifteen hour flight back home that I had sex with two of the four pilots....separately."

“Any protection like condoms?” he asked.

“Of course not,” I said. “They would’ve nutted hard enough to break the condoms.”

“Let’s get you tested as a precaution.”

“Sounds good.”

They ran a urinalysis and bloodwork, which confirmed the pregnancy.  A few extra vials of blood were taken to test for STIs. When the ultrasound revealed that the pregnancy was ectopic, I said, “Please terminate the pregnancy. There’s no chance of saving it anyways.”

The doctor nodded. “We’ll handle it quickly and carefully. You’ll be fine.”

A few minutes later, the abortion was done. After I got dressed, the doctor came back with a prescription for muscle relaxers and Ibuprofen 800 mg from the hospital's pharmacy. I thanked him after he told me that there were a refill on each. As I gathered my stuff and meds, I thanked the medical staff and walked back into the waiting room, where Mike was sitting.

“How bad is it?” he asked.

“Bruised ribs, mild concussion, and clearly the black eye,” I said.

He stood, grabbed my hand in his and we headed outside. He signaled the valet to bring the SUV around. “Let’s get you home.”

I nodded, and we climbed into the vehicle. I settled in, sore and exhausted, and fell asleep again. Mike woke me when we arrived at my house and helped me out.

“Thanks for being here,” I said softly.

“Always,” he replied, giving me a supportive squeeze of the shoulder.

Mike helped me get out of his SUV, careful with my body. He carried my bags inside while I fumbled with my house key. “Got it,” I said, letting him lead the way. Once the door closed behind us, we headed upstairs with my things.

Inside my house, I set the bags down. “Thanks for helping me get in,” I said, wincing slightly as I moved.

“You’re welcome. You sure you don’t need to sit first?” he asked.

“I’ll be fine,” I replied. I stripped off my clothes and stepped into the shower, letting the warm water wash away the tension and lingering soreness.

Mike’s voice called gently from the open door. “I was wondering if I could join you.”

“Yeah,” I said as I stuck my head outside of the curtain. “Better get your ass in here before all the hot water is gone.”

“Fair enough,” he said as he stripped then joined me

The water ran over me, and for the first time since landing back home, I was grateful that I was home and thankful that Mike was my neighbor.

As I rinsed the two in one shampoo and conditioner from my hair, Mike’s hands kept finding me. It felt good, his touch gentle and reassuring, but I wasn’t in the right mindset to have sex with Mike at the moment no matter how much I truly wanted to. Between officially ending things with Scott, dealing with Patrick and his death, the hurt of Vic always choosing his wife despite his unhappiness, and Ronan pushing for a relationship, my mind was too tangled and raw for sex, no matter the desire nor with who.

“Mike,” I moaned. “I can’t….”

“Tired?” he asked as he kissed me.

“That among other things,” I said. “After I get some sleep, I’ll fill you in, ok?”

“Ok, babe,” he said.

We finished our shower, dried off and I put on an over sized shirt. Mike kept his towel around his waist so he could run home to get dressed.

“Mind if I return the towel after you’ve slept?” he asked.

“You can stay and sleep over. We can wash your clothes in the morning,” I said sleepily. “Unless you have the kids.”

“You want me to sleep over?” he asked with a twinge of hope in his voice. “Marjory has the kids. It was supposed to be my couple of days today and tomorrow but when I told her that I was coming to get you, she offered me to switch.”

“That was nice,” I said. “Do the kids know about the switch? Are they ok with it?”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “They do. At first, they were upset but once they knew it was for you, they were fine with it.”

“They don’t know me, Mike,” I said. "Will the court be ok with it?"

“The kids know that I like you but you weren’t the reason for Marjory and I divorcing,” he said. "I think so. We both submitted paperwork documenting the switch through our mediator."

“Glad that both they and I know,” I sighed. “I am so tired and ready for bed. What time is it?”

“Time here or time there?” he asked.

“Here,” I replied.

“It’s 4 pm….on a Sunday,” he said as he hugged me. I could feel his erection but didn’t have the energy nor the desire. "I know it was Sunday we left."

“Let me see if I have any sweats you can wear until I wash your clothes,” I said as I pulled away from him. I wanted to have heated and passionate sex Mike at least once more in our lifetime but with the jetlag, hunger, emotional exhaustion and running from Scott, Charlie, Vince, Ronan, Vic and Patrick’s ghost, I just couldn’t even consider it. “Want me to heat up food that Aqeel shipped to Vince in order to stock my fridge or should we place an order through Aditi?”

I left the bathroom and headed to my room before he could answer me. I opened up my one dresser and found some old – but cleaned! – clothes that belong to Vic but Mike’s close to 182.88 cm tall and Vic is closer to my height and as a slightly bigger/muscular built. I went into my closet and found sweats that belonged to Matteo. Matteo and Mike were of a similar height but again, Mike has a skinnier build. These were the best bet. I brought the sweats into the bathroom where I left Mike.

“Here,” I said giving him Matteo’s sweats. “They might be a little bit big around the waist but at least they’re about the long length. Does the inseam count in sweats?”

“Who is Aditi?” Mike asked as he took the towel off and put on Matteo’s sweats. “No, inseam really doesn’t count for sweats. At least not for me.”

“Aditi is a dear friend of mine and owns an amazing restaurant,” I said. “Do you like Indian food?”

“If she is a friend of yours, I am sure I will like her!” he said. “I’ve never had Indian food before.”

I nodded, left the room, and grabbed my phone. Crap. It was my New Zealand phone. I fumbled for my phone that I use here in my home country, but it was dead. I set it on the charging pad and waited for a few minutes. Once it had enough of a charge, I dialed Aditi and put her on speaker.

“Hello?” Her voice sounded surprised.

“Hey, Aditi.”

“I thought you were still in New Zealand!”

“I was but I just got home about an hour ago. Everything I needed to handle there is done,” I said. “I was hoping to order some food from you.”

“Oh! Of course! What are you thinking?” she asked.

“Well,” I said, “my neighbor has never had Indian food before, so I thought a mix of everything. Whatever else you want to add—surprise us.”

Aditi laughed softly. “Just your usual but mix it up?”

“Something like that ha ha ha,” I said. “And could you call me when someone’s on the way? You may have to call twice. I might be asleep!”

“Will do,” she replied. “Sleep tight, and I’ll let you know when the delivery’s heading your way.”

“Thanks, Aditi. I really appreciate it,” I said. “Thank you!”

“You’re very welcome, my dear,” she said. “And welcome home.”

We hung up. I turned to Mike and said: “There’s no point in you using the guest room for a nap. You can join me in my bed. No sex or any other hanky-panky!”

“I appreciate it,” he said. “I promise to behave myself.”

I gave him half a smile as we climbed into my bed

Within minutes, we were both out cold. The exhaustion from travel and everything that had happened caught up to me and his switching things around with his estranged wife with the kids. The room was still, save for our quiet breathing, and it felt like the world had paused around us.

An hour later, I was startled awake by Aditi calling my name. “Deppgrl? Are you up?”

I blinked against the fading sunlight filtering through the curtains. “I’ll be down in a minute, Aditi,” I called back, my voice still groggy.

I slipped out of bed, ran to the bathroom to quickly rinse my mouth with mouthwash as I didn’t have time to brush properly. Once I felt slightly more awake, I ran downstairs to greet her.

Aditi smiled warmly, her eyes lighting up. “There you are! I was starting to wonder if you’d want to sleep through the rest of the day.”

I laughed softly. “I really needed it. It was a long flight and a bit of turbulence…I was out cold.”

“Well, it’s good to see you up and moving, friend,” Aditi said. “Let’s get this all of this unpacked.”

We worked in silence while Mike was still asleep. I knew that she was looking at my black eye and wanted to ask me questions but she knew that I needed a few days to adjust before grilling me about my eye. Once I had the kitchen counter peninsula set up with plates, bowls, utensils and glasses, I asked Aditi how much I owed her.

"It's not about the money, friend," she sighed as she hugged me. "I just want the story of why your job was so short and what caused that black eye. It better not have been anyone."

"I'll tell you tomorrow, my friend. And no, no one laid a finger on me," I sighed and sank into her hug. "I need to eat some amazing food and get some sleep."

"You got it," she said as we released each other from the hug. "Be careful with that skinny neighbor of yours. He's in love with you but you are hurting right now."

The flight unfolds

A few hours into the flight, I woke still tucked in Vince’s arms. He was sound asleep, head tilted slightly toward me, mouth parted as loud snores escaped him. I stifled a laugh, gently easing out from under his arm. He mumbled something in his sleep — it sounded like my name — then shifted, pulling the blanket tighter around himself.

“Still snoring like a freight train,” I whispered with a grin, shaking my head.

The cabin lights were dim, the quiet hum of the engines filling the space. I grabbed my tote bag from the seat in front of me, rummaging quietly until I found my toothbrush and toothpaste. With both in hand, I padded down the narrow aisle toward the coaches’ bathroom — larger than the one for the players, built to accommodate a shower, with enough space to actually move without bumping an elbow on every wall.

Inside, I flicked on the soft overhead light and looked at my reflection. My face was a little pale, eyes tired but more hollow than they once were. Six weeks ago, when I’d first arrived in New Zealand, the reflection staring back at me had been someone lost, restless, barely holding herself together. Now, I didn’t look like that woman anymore. I looked frail and had lost a ton of weight… thanks to Patrick. Not to disrespect the dead, but no respect to Patrick.

I brushed my teeth slowly, the familiar rhythm helping me wake up. When I was done, I rinsed my mouth and splashed cool water on my face before shutting off the tap.

As I stepped back into the quiet cabin, Emily looked up from where she was organizing supplies in the galley. She smiled warmly.

“Couldn’t sleep?” she asked.

I shook my head, returning the smile. “I can’t sleep long on planes. My body doesn’t know what time it is anymore.”

“That makes two of us,” she chuckled softly. “I work part-time as a flight attendant for a commercial airline when I’m not needed with the All Blacks. I swear, I haven’t slept through a long-haul flight in five years.”

That earned a laugh from me. “That explains why you look more awake than the rest of us.”

“Don’t let the makeup fool you,” she teased. “It’s all smoke and mirrors.”

“Any chance I can grab a cup of coffee?” I asked. “Instant’s fine.”

Emily shook her head immediately, mock offense in her voice. “Instant? Not on my watch. You deserve the good stuff — freshly brewed.”

I lifted an eyebrow. “You’re spoiling me.”

“After all the negative shit you’ve had in New Zealand, I’d call it necessary.” She moved with practiced ease, filling the small French press with hot water and grounds, the scent of roasted beans slowly filling the galley. “Light and sweet, right?”

I smiled. “You remember.”

“Of course I do.” She handed me the steaming mug a few minutes later, the aroma wrapping around me like comfort itself. “There you go — caffeine therapy, coach’s edition.”

I took a slow sip, savoring the warmth and the perfect balance of cream and sugar. “That’s exactly what I needed. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she said softly, leaning against the counter. “You doing all right? Charle briefly told me about Patrick.”

I hesitated for a beat, watching the soft steam curl above the cup. “Getting there. It’s strange, though. Leaving like that. Everything I built over those six weeks—it feels like a lifetime.”

Emily nodded. “I get that. But you left a mark, you know? People don’t forget that kind of impact.”

Her words sank in quietly. I looked out the small porthole window near the galley, where streaks of pale pink and amber were beginning to color the edge of the clouds. “It’s beautiful,” I murmured. “A reminder that endings aren’t always dark.”

Emily followed my gaze, smiling faintly. “That’s a good way to see it.”

We stood in silence for a few moments, the sky brightening by degrees. I finished my coffee and handed her the empty mug. “Thanks again, Emily.”

“Anytime. You want another cup?”

“Sure, that’d be great,” I said.

She got to working and made my second cup of coffee.

“Now go wake your co-pilot before he starts drooling in his sleep.”

I laughed under my breath. “He already started.”

Walking back down the aisle, I found Vince still in the same position, mouth open slightly, blissfully unaware of anything. I brushed a hand through his hair and whispered, “Hey, sleepyhead.”

He stirred, eyes blinking open. “Mmm… coffee?”

I grinned. “This one’s mine. You know that I don’t share my coffee. There’s more up in the galley but you have to fight Emily for the rest.”

He yawned, smiling drowsily. “You’re a pain my ass.”

“Always,” I teased, settling back into my seat beside him. “Go brush your teeth then get your coffee, darling.”

“I’m darling now, huh?” he teased me. “I’ve missed that.”

“Don’t get used to it, old man,” I laughed.

Vince ruffled through his carry-on bag to get his toothpaste and toothbrush then headed to brush his teeth. On his way out of the bathroom, he dropped his things off in his bag, then went to Emily in the galley. They laughed and joked. Emily rested her hand on Vince’s chest after he said something. I couldn’t see his face, but his ears turned red, and Emily looked a little embarrassed as she removed her hand and glanced at me briefly. Vince walked back to me.

“What was that with Emily?” I asked innocently. “Did you turn her down?”

“She was flirting with me,” he sighed. “I told her that I was hung up on someone else… she knew it was you.”

“Dude, she’s an incredible woman. Just because we’re still hung up on other doesn’t mean we can’t go out for dinner or coffee or whatever with other people, Vince,” I said as I got up. “I called you to get me for a reason — because I trusted you to do so. I didn’t ask you to be an asshole to an incredible woman who’s just trying to find company whenever she flies to our closest airport.”

I headed back to the galley to find Emily crying. I didn’t have any tissues on me, but grabbed a napkin from the dispenser near her head. “He can be rather abrupt,” I said. “I’m sorry he was such an ass.”

“He was rather polite,” Emily said softly.

“That is a bit of a surprise as he can be rather abrasive,” I replied, giving her a small smile. “I gave him shit. In a few minutes, he’ll be crawling back here to apologize.”

“Thanks, Deppgrl. You’re a real woman’s woman,” she said. “How did you two meet?”

“Can you handle a weird kinda but not kinda not complicated awkward story?” I asked with a grin.

“Sure,” she said, chuckling. “I live for these stories. It’s part of why I work commercial when not needed for the team.”

“Before I start, I want to state that nothing happened until after I turned of legal age,” I began. “I was starting high school and, of course, not being familiar with the layout of the school… I got lost. I’m rather directionally impaired — to the point where if you tell me to head north, I’ll go south by southeast. Anyway, I was heading to the music department wing but went down the wrong hallway. I see this attractive teacher and, distracted by his looks and talking to my new classmate on the way to class, I tripped and started to fall — but Vince caught me before I fully hit the floor. I thanked him, and my classmate and I found the actual classroom we were supposed to be in. For three of my four years of high school, I was in the choir, and my senior year I was part of the marching band — as color guard.”

“What happened after you graduated?” she asked.

“Well, nothing much for about two or three years,” I said. “A friend I graduated with invited me to a football game — not what you call football; we call that soccer. This game’s a big deal because it’s the end of the season, the rivalry match between our sister school and our own. The winner gets bragging rights until next year. Of course, Vince was there — still the band director. As I was looking for my friend, Vince’s and my eyes locked. Before either one of us could greet the other, my friend showed up. We watched the game and left, promising to go again the next year.”

“What happened next?”

“The following year, a different friend of mine and I ended up going to that same game — my friend from the previous year had to work last minute,” I said. “As my friend and I were talking while waiting for the game to start, Vince texted me, asking me to meet him during halftime. Long story short, I did — and he said he tracked down my older brother to get my number. Then he asked if I wanted to head to his house after the game. I said sure — and that I knew he lived near me.”

“Oh?”

“In high school, my bus went through his development, and I saw him hop in his car,” I continued. “That night started a very long on-and-off relationship. He wanted to marry — and I did and didn’t, but he didn’t know why until my ex-husband, Xavier, walked back into my life. Even after the divorce, I still have no desire to marry. After knowing Vince for twenty-eight years and being involved with him for about fifteen, he’s a far better friend for me than a partner.”

“Oh,” she said dejectedly.

“I’m not saying he’s a bad partner,” I added quickly. “Vince is a generous man — with his time, patience, gift-giving, his love, and his skills in the bedroom. He’s also full of kindness. Any woman he dates will be spoiled.”

“Can you go put in a good word for me?” she said, half-joking.

“I did — in not so many words,” I said with a small smirk. “Oh, look who’s coming this way. I’ll be back in a bit for the tea.”

She laughed as I headed back to my seat. I grabbed a book from my tote bag and began to read. As I heard Vince’s and Emily’s voices and laughter behind me, I fell asleep.

Two hours later, I woke up and looked outside. The sun had fully risen now, streaking the clouds with gold. Vince leaned his head lightly against mine, drifting back toward sleep as I watched the sky stretch endlessly ahead. I woke him immediately.

“How did it go?” I asked.

“Great,” he said. “Once I get you home and situated, Emily and I are going to spend time together. Probably dinner.”

“I want to hear about everything afterwards — even if it’s the morning,” I said as I got up.

I walked back to the galley. Emily was cleaning up, but when she saw me, she set everything down and smiled.

“Hey,” she said, voice softer now. “So… we’re having dinner.”

“I heard,” I replied with a grin.

Her smile faltered a little. “Are you really okay with that?”

Instead of answering right away, I stepped closer. “Yeah, I am. But I’ll be honest — I’m a little jealous.”

She blinked, uncertain. “Jealous?”

“Not in a possessive way,” I said. “Vince has been a part of my life for almost three decades. We’ve been through hell, and through all of it, he stayed. So yeah — it’s strange to see that shifting toward someone else. But that’s not bitterness. It’s nostalgia. I want him happy, Emily. Truly. He deserves that. He deserves someone who looks at him the way he looks at you when you’re not paying attention.”

She smiled shyly, eyes shimmering a little. “He does look at me like that.”

“Good,” I said softly. “That’s what I want. He’s spent so much of his life taking care of me. It’s time someone took care of him.”

Her eyes filled with tears as she stepped forward and hugged me — tight, heartfelt.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “For being so cool about this.”

I laughed lightly. “Cool might be pushing it. But I’m trying. Life’s too short to hold on too tight.”

She pulled back, brushing her eyes. “You’re kind of incredible, you know?”

I smiled. “No. Just tired. But maybe tired helps you see things clearer.”

She chuckled.

I nodded in thanks, turning back down the aisle. Vince was asleep again, and I slipped back into my seat.

I pulled my book from my tote bag, flipped it open, and tried to read. But my eyes skimmed the same paragraph again and again. None of the words stuck. The jealousy wasn’t sharp — it was just there, lingering under my ribs. I wasn’t angry, only wistful.

I set the book down and stared out the window instead. The sunlight glowed across the clouds, endless and warm, while Vince shifted beside me, sighing softly in his sleep.

I sighed and reached for my phone, officially becoming every pilot’s worst nightmare. Unlocking it quietly, I scrolled to Mike’s name and sent him a message:

Hey, can you pick me up from the airport in a bit?

A minute later, he replied. Yeah, of course. What time, and where am I meeting you?

I typed back: Park by international flights and ask someone at the nearest ticket counter for “Maddox Mannox.”

A moment passed before his next message came through. What the hell is a Maddox Mannox?

I smiled faintly. Maddox is a contact of mine at the airport. I’ll text him and tell him you’re picking me up. He’ll validate your parking and bring you to the door leading to the tarmac where the plane will be.

Got it. What time?

Three to four hours, I sent back. You’ll see me on the tarmac.

Okay, he replied. Looking forward to seeing you, D.

I locked the phone and tucked it into the seat pocket, leaning my head back. Outside, the sun blazed bright across the horizon, and for the first time in a long while, I felt ready to be home.