The aftermath

The silence of the bedroom felt heavy, almost medicinal. I lay there, staring at the ceiling, tracing the phantom outlines of a night that had been technically perfect but emotionally hollow. Jerry and Twix were good men—decent, attentive, and generous in their affection—but as the morning light filtered through the blinds, the pleasure they’d provided felt like a debt I hadn't realized I’d be paying with the currency of our friendship.

I eventually forced myself upright. My phone was a black mirror on the nightstand, dead to the world. I plugged it in, the small vibration of the charging cable feeling like a jolt to my own system.

Stripping the bed was a ritual of erasure. I bundled the linens, the scent of the evening clinging to the fabric. It wasn't that the sheets were ruined; it was that they were haunted. I knew I’d have to run the cycle twice—not for the stains, but to rinse away the lingering musk of a choice I was already mourning.

While the machine hummed in the basement, I retreated to the shower. I intended for it to be quick, a functional scrub, but I found myself standing under the spray for a long time, letting the heat numb the slight, dull ache in my muscles. I dressed in heavy loungewear, seeking the comfort of soft layers, and picked at a peanut butter sandwich in the kitchen.

Back in the basement, I pulled a damp sheet from the washer and pressed it to my nose. It wasn't gone yet. That primal, sweet-salt scent still clung to the fibers.

"Not enough," I muttered to the empty room. "Still there." I measured out another heavy pour of detergent, the blue liquid swirling into the drum. "Another round. Make it disappear."

By the time I returned to the bedroom, my phone had revived. A message from Vic was waiting.

How are you holding up? What are you doing?

I typed back with a steady hand: Tired. A little sore. Just doing laundry and some light cleaning before I disappear into a nap.

I watched the three dots of the ellipsis dance on the screen. They appeared, hesitated, and vanished. Then they returned, pulsing with his unspoken thoughts. Finally, the question landed.

Do you regret last night?

Yes, I sent.

Before he could offer a platitude, I followed up: Threesomes were a college curiosity, Vic. At forty, the novelty is gone. I don’t judge the lifestyle, but I’ve realized I can’t maintain an emotional connection when the bed is that crowded. Jerry and Twix... we all felt it this morning. The shift. If we saw them next week, it would be a performance of 'normal' that none of us are ready for. Especially with their wives in the room, regardless of what they agreed to.

My phone didn't chime with a text; it roared with a ringtone. Vic was calling.

"I’m sorry," he said the moment I answered, his voice low and roughened by guilt. "I shouldn't have suggested you invite them both. I had an idea of how things might go, but I wasn't... I wasn't one hundred percent sure it would hit you this hard."

"I appreciate the apology, Vic. Truly. But suggestions only work if the other person says yes. I’m the one who opened the door."

"You sound distant," he noted. "Even for you."

"I'm just realistic. Everything looks different in the daylight. Our relationship changed last night, and I don't just mean with Jerry and Twix."

"Do you want me to come over tonight?" he asked, his tone shifting to something more urgent. "We can talk. Properly."

"No. Stay with your wife," I said, my voice flat. "Spend another night at home, Vic. You need to be there."

"I'd rather be spending the night with you," he countered, his voice dropping an octave. "You know that."

"And I would prefer to be alone," I said, cutting through the sentiment. "I have some significant thinking to do. The kind you can't do when someone else is in the room."

There was a pause on the line, the kind that feels like a physical weight. "Is this about us?"

"Everything is about us, Vic. The twelve-year carousel we’ve been on, the 'on' and 'off,' the layers... it's all part of the same mess."

"I understand," he said, though the hollow ring in his voice told me he was just saying what he thought I needed to hear.

"I don't think you do," I whispered. "But that's okay. Good night, Vic."

"Good night," he replied, sounding defeated.

I hung up and the silence returned, sharper than before. I needed to talk, but my list of confidants was dangerously short. Kay was off-limits; the wound from her hiding Randy’s reconciliation with his ex was still too fresh for me to trust her with my vulnerabilities.

I thought about my employee, Tara. She was a brilliant junior partner, but our relationship ended at the office door. "I can't dump this on her," I sighed, setting the phone down. "We don't have that kind of friendship. It’s strictly business, and it needs to stay that way."

I thought about calling my brother. "Bob would lose his mind," I muttered, imagining the conversation. 'You've been doing what with Vic for twelve years? And now this?' He’d be pissed—his right, of course—and he’d try to understand, but his protective streak would just turn into a lecture I wasn't prepared to hear.

I went through the names—Matteo, Mike, Vince—all ghosts or complications. There’s no way that I could talk to Tara about this no matter how close we are. I appreciate Tara and her hard work for my company and her commitment to work for her rather eccentric boss but we only have a business relationship.

That left only one person. Someone who understood the peculiar weight of a husband’s shadow and the complexity of clandestine needs. Neither of our governments would appreciate us turning our business relationship into something personal, but she was the only one who had survived a similar storm with her own husband.

I dialed her emergency number, my heart thudding.

She picked up on the third ring. "It is late for you," she said, her voice accented and calm. "Or perhaps very early."

"It’s both," I said, leaning my head against the cool glass of the window. "I’ve made a mess of things, and you’re the only person I know who won't look at me like a casualty."

"Then tell me," Serafina said. "From the beginning."

 

The last session

The morning light filtered through the kitchen blinds in thin, sharp slats, illuminating the steam rising from the coffee pot. I threw on my oversized shirt, moving quietly through the familiar routine of making Vic breakfast since he had slept over last night. Well, more like we fucked last night. I was cracking eggs and setting the bacon to sizzle when I heard him.

He joined me in the kitchen ten minutes later after his shower and immediately interrupted me from cooking. He didn't say a word at first; he simply closed the distance between us. He bent me over the kitchen table, spread my legs, and fucked me hard and fast. The kitchen air, once smelling of breakfast, turned heavy with the scent of sex. We moved in a frantic rhythm until we both came multiple times, and he finished by shooting his cum in my waiting pussy.

“My god, amore,” he panted, his forehead resting against my shoulder as he caught his breath. “I don’t know what we are or if you’re my sancha, but I can’t get enough of you.”

“Oh, Papa,” I sighed, leaning back into him. “I’d say that I’m your sancha but we have no romance. We just eat and fuck.”

When he pulled out, I took a breath to steady my legs and finished cooking for him. After he ate, I cleaned up the kitchen as he showered again. When he was ready to go, he walked over and kissed me deeply.

"I need to spend the night with my wife," Vic told me. “She misses me.”

I looked dejected but told him, "I understand. She is your wife."

He looked at me, searching my face with concern. "Will you be ok?" he asked.

I sighed and said, "I would... I'll text either Jerry or Twix to spend the night with me. One of them will."

He encouraged me, saying, "Invite them both over."

"I will," I said.

After he left, I put the bedding from the guest bedroom in the wash. I showered then cleaned the house. I sent Jerry and Twix a text inviting them both to spend the night. Within seconds, they both responded by saying that they’d be on their way in a few minutes. I unlocked the house and moved the bedding to the dryer. When I got back to the main floor, Jerry and Twix were in my house and already stripping naked.

"We're not letting you sleep alone tonight," Jerry said, tossing his shirt aside.

"Not a chance," Twix added, stepping closer.

I knew that by the time they were done with me in 36 hours, I’d be sore and spent. I took off my oversized shirt and told them, "I am ready."

I was carried to my bedroom. Twix laid down on his back on my bed. I slid down his thick dick, moaning his name. Jerry stood behind me, stroking his long dick before pushing himself into my ass.

"You're so tight for us," Jerry whispered in my ear.

"Take it all," Twix urged from below.

I rode Twix, Jerry rode me. In no time, we were all cumming together. Who knows how much later, Jerry pulled out of my ass and I climbed off of Twix. Jerry laid down on my bed and I slid down his dick. From behind, Twix shoved his dick in my ass.

"Yes, right there," I gasped as they both moved in sync.

As I rode Jerry, Twix rode me. It didn’t take us long for all of us to start cumming. Again, they repeatedly came in me.

We took a break sometime later. They showered as I slept. Jerry woke me up from riding my pussy from behind. I told him, "Don't stop," and he didn’t until he drained his balls in me. When Jerry pulled out, Twix took his place and also rode my pussy from behind.

"You're mine now," Twix muttered, pulling my hips back. He didn’t stop fucking me until he emptied his balls in me.

I was carried to the bathroom so that I could shower and they could change the sheets and get us all something to drink. I came downstairs to eat but Jerry ate my ass then Twix ate my pussy while I was on the kitchen table. They kept switching places for several hours.

"You taste so sweet," Jerry murmured.

"I could stay here all day," Twix whispered against my skin.

When they finished eating me, I started smoking a joint. When I was done, they both pushed their dicks into my pussy. They both came in my pussy for hours. When they were drained, we collapsed onto the couch and fell asleep.

It was around 8 pm when they woke me up. They took their turns fucking me and filling me up with their cum for the rest of the night. By 7 am, we were all exhausted. I was sore, swollen and satisfied. We fell asleep until noon.

When we woke up, we all looked at each other. The room was quiet, the air heavy with the aftermath of the weekend. We all knew that this would be the very last time we’d have sex together though they’d still swing with their wives.

"It was a hell of a night," Jerry said softly, kissing my forehead. “As much as Twix and I enjoy our threesomes, last night is our last. No other night with you can top last night. It was great for both of us.”

"The best," Twix agreed. “We love how responsive you are with us but we know that this isn’t something that you’re too into. We’re grateful that you’ve shared yourself with us.”

“It was a fun night,” I admitted. “I know I never said anything about threesomes not being my thing, but I’m grateful that you guys understand that it’s not for everyone. One of these days, the five of us need to go out for dinner. It’ll be my treat.”

They nodded then headed downstairs to get dressed then head back to their respective homes and wives.

The last call

The spare room felt smaller than I remembered, the air stale from weeks of disuse. I sat on the edge of the twin bed, my thumb hovering over Matteo’s name in my contacts before I finally pressed the call icon.

He picked up on the first ring, his voice slightly breathless. "Deppgrl?"

"Hey, Matteo," I said, my voice steadier than I felt. "I just wanted to let you know... I’m back. I actually got home two or three days ago."

There was a long silence on the other end, the kind that vibrates with unspoken questions. "You’re home?" he finally whispered. "God, I’m shocked. I’m just happy to hear your voice."

"Thanks. It’s good to be back."

"Is everything okay?" he asked, his tone shifting to that familiar, protective worry. "With New Zealand and the All Blacks? Was the head coach gig what you expected?"

I looked out the window at the familiar streetlights of my neighborhood, thinking of the pressure and the roar of the crowds I’d left behind. "Yes and no," I admitted. "It’s complicated, Matteo. But I’m going to be okay. I just need some time to figure out what 'okay' looks like now that I'm not on the sidelines."

"I understand," he said softly. "I'm just glad you're back."

We drifted into a few more minutes of easy, hollow small talk—the weather, the long flight back from Auckland, the things people say when they’re trying to ignore the elephant in the room. Eventually, the pauses grew longer.

"I should go," I said. "I have a lot of unpacking to do."

"Right. Of course. Take care of yourself, Deppgrl."

"You too. Goodbye, Matteo."

"Goodbye."

The line went dead. I stared at his name on the screen for a long beat. Before I could overthink it, before the nostalgia could talk me out of it, I tapped 'Edit' and scrolled to the bottom. I pressed 'Delete Contact' and confirmed it. The screen jumped back to my recent calls, showing only a string of digits where his name used to be. It was a quiet click, a digital snap, but it felt like a heavy door finally swinging shut.

I stood and opened the windows to the stuffy room, turning the fan on to coax some fresh air inside. I hadn't asked Vince to prepare the guest room, so the neglect was evident. As I looked down at the neighborhood, I saw Mike pulling into his driveway. He caught sight of me and nodded, but then he froze.

That’s when I felt it—Vic’s surging energy. I could always feel him before I saw him.

"Amore?" he asked, his voice a low vibration in his sexy Hispanic accent. "Amore."

"Hmmmm?" I asked mindlessly, still half-distracted by the quiet street. "What’s wrong, Papa?"

"I woke up and you weren’t in my arms," he said, stalking toward me. "What’s so fascinating outside of that window, amore? You looking for someone?"

"Nothing," I whispered, turning to meet his gaze. "Just getting some air. Will you be able to get back to sleep after your nap?"

"A nap isn’t necessary when you’re around, amore," he said softly, his eyes darkening with affection. He leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss to the side of my neck while taking a pointed peek out the window at Mike. "Goodnight, Mike! Don’t forget to use your earplugs tonight! It’s going to be a long one!"

Vic smirked as he shut the windows most of the way. "I’m glad you’re back, amore," he whispered, his forehead resting against mine. "The house felt empty without your spirit here. I missed having you right here where I can hold you."

"You did, huh?" I teased, though my breath hitched as he pulled me closer.

"Don't play with me," he murmured, his hands sliding down to gently cup my face. "You've been gone too long. I need to feel every bit of you tonight."

"Then stop talking, Papa," I whispered, my heart racing. "Show me how much you missed me."

Without another word, he hooked his arms under my knees and scooped me up. He carried me with a careful, reverent strength, crossing the small space to place me in the center of the bed. He stripped quickly, his eyes never leaving mine, the air thick with a tension that was more than just physical—it was a deep, aching need to be close.

I didn't wait nor could I. I reached for him, guiding him home as he lowered himself over me. I gripped his shoulders, my eyes fluttering shut as he slowly, agonizingly merged our bodies. The sensation was staggering—a deep, soul-filling connection that made the weeks of distance vanish in an instant.

"God, you're so beautiful," Vic groaned, his hands trembling slightly as they stroked my hair away from my face. "I missed this. I missed you."

"Yes, Vic... right there," I gasped as he began to move. It wasn't just a rhythm; it was a conversation. Every thrust was slow and deliberate, designed to savor the feeling of being one.

Vic was passionate, his movements a blend of power and profound tenderness. His mouth found mine, kissing me with a hunger that tasted like relief, while his hands traced the curves of my body as if memorizing them all over again. He leaned down to catch my nipple in his mouth, his tongue swirling in a way that made me whimper, his other hand coming up to tangle in my hair.

"Look at me, amore," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion as he drove deeper. "Tell me you're here. Tell me you're really back with me."

"I'm here, Vic... I'm right here," I cried out, my fingers digging into his back as a wave of heat rolled through me.

We lost ourselves in each other for hours. The intensity never wavered, but it was tempered by the way he looked at me—with a raw, exposed adoration. I lost count of the times he paused just to press his lips to my temple or whisper my name against my skin.

Just as the first peak took me, Vic gripped my hips, his touch firm but full of heat. "Don't move," he commanded softly. "I'm not done loving you yet."

With a feat of strength that seemed effortless, he flipped us without breaking our connection. One moment I was beneath him, and the next, I was on top, my hands resting on his chest as I moved against him. He watched me with a gaze so intense it felt like he could see straight through me. My body felt heavy and cherished, every inch of me sensitized by his touch.

"You're incredible," he breathed, reaching up to pull me down for another deep, soul-searching kiss.

Hours later, as the sky began to turn a soft, bruised purple, he pinned me once more. He hooked my legs over his shoulders, his eyes locked on mine as he moved with a punishingly beautiful precision, finding the exact spots that made me come undone.

As the sun finally cleared the horizon, bathing the room in gold, Vic began to pull out. I felt the slow, agonizing slide of him leaving me, but before he was fully clear, he grabbed my hips and hoisted them high, holding me close as if he never wanted the morning to start.

Evening plans

The phone had barely cooled from my call with Bob when the screen lit up again. It was Vic texting me.

"Man, these holiday parties have absolutely drained me," his text read. "I’ve been going since 9:30 this morning. But I can rally."

I chewed my lip, looking at the clock. I didn't want him showing up just out of a sense of obligation and dinner. I pulled up the keyboard and typed back.

“Honestly, Vic, we don’t need to fuck tonight. If you’re wiped, just sleep. I’d rather you rest than force it.”

A few minutes passed. I figured he’d fallen asleep mid-sentence standing on his feet, but then the three dots appeared.

"Give me a little credit," he replied. "I just need a second to reset. I think once I hop in the shower, get some food in me, and we just chill for a bit, I'll definitely be able to rally."

I smiled at the screen, a mix of appreciation and skepticism.

I hope you do, I sent back, but I’m serious—if you hit the wall and just need to crash, I would completely understand. No pressure on my end.

"I hear you," he texted back a second later. "But let's see how I feel after the shower. I'm not counting myself out yet."

I set the phone down, deciding to take him at his word. Just in case he did make it, I wanted to be ready. I reached for my favorite lotion, smoothing it over my skin, and finished with a few sprays of the perfume he’d bought me. The scent filled the room, making the wait feel a little more like an occasion.

I tried to settle into the wait, picking up a book, but the words blurred on the page. I flicked through the TV channels, but nothing could hold my attention for more than a few seconds. I knew I was excited to see him, but my nerves were starting to get the best of me. It was strange—in all the years I've known Vic, I have never been this nervous to see him.

I found myself pacing the length of the living room, listening for the sound of his car. When the knock finally came, my heart did a nervous little skip.

Vic stood there, looking tired but wearing a triumphant grin, his arms laden with heavy bags. He’d clearly been busy at the restaurant. As he walked in, the kitchen counter was quickly covered in a small mountain of to-go containers. He’d brought enough for a feast: Chicken Marsala, Chicken Piccata, three different types of ravioli, and a decadent-looking chocolate dessert.

Once the bags were empty and the spread was laid out, the frantic energy of his arrival suddenly softened. He turned to me, the light from the kitchen catching the warmth in his eyes. He bent down, closing the small gap between us, and kissed me.

I leaned into him, letting the familiar weight of his kiss ground me. When we finally broke apart, I searched his face. "How are you really?" I asked softly.

"Exhausted," he admitted, his voice a low rumble. "It's been a marathon."

"What do you need first?"

He looked at me for a long beat, a tired smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I definitely prefer you first. But I think I need a shower, some of this dinner, and maybe a nap before we actually get to the sex."

"Take as long as you need in the shower," I told him, giving him a gentle push toward the hall. "It’ll give me time to get the plates, utensils, and wine ready for when you get out."

He caught me for one more quick, sweet kiss before I laughed and shooed him off to my bathroom.

As the sound of the shower started up, I went to work in the kitchen, setting out the plates and napkins. I moved into the living room and struck a match to a candle. The scent was a close relative to the perfume I was wearing—similar enough to layer the air with something cohesive, yet with a deeper, muskier edge that felt right for the night.

I heard the water click off, followed by the muffled quiet of the house. A few minutes later, Vic came back down, looking refreshed but still carrying that heavy, sleepy grace of a man who had finally let his guard down.

As we started plating the food, I finally brought up what was on my mind. "Why did you tell Bob that I was home?"

Vic didn't even hesitate. "Because knowing you, you wouldn't have told him for another two weeks."

I let out a long sigh, leaning against the counter. "You know me well enough by now, Vic. When stuff involves me, it’s on me to tell those around me what's going on."

He paused, looking at me seriously for a moment before nodding. "I understand," he said quietly.

We sat down at the table and began to eat in a companionable silence, the only sound the clinking of silverware. We ate until we were completely stuffed, the richness of the Italian food finally taking the last of our energy.

"Go relax on the couch," I told him as I started gathering the containers. "I'll clean up from dinner."

Normally, he would have fought me on it, insisting on helping, but tonight he just nodded wordlessly. He headed over to the living room, and within seconds of laying down and pulling a blanket over himself, he was fast asleep.

I finished clearing the table and started the dishwasher, the low hum of the machine filling the kitchen. After drying my hands, I found two massive travel mugs and filled them both to the brim with ice water. I set one by the couch for him and grabbed a pen.

I wrote a quick note to leave right by his water: I'm heading up to the guest room. If you wake up, take the main bedroom so you can have some real peace and quiet. Sleep well.

I took my own mug and quietly climbed the stairs, leaving him to the silence of the living room.

A house of shadows

The lock clicked into place, a sound that usually brought me peace but lately only felt like a temporary truce. Darnell followed me inside, his footsteps heavy on the hardwood.

"Bathroom's in the same place it was hours ago," I teased, though my voice lacked its usual spark.

"I swear, I have the bladder of a toddler," Darnell grumbled, already retreating down the hall.

"I have no room to talk," I called after him. “My bladder is weirdly smaller than yours!”

 I moved to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, looking at the six takeout containers from Aditi’s we had tucked away earlier. When he emerged, I began pulling them out. "Take some of this home, Darnell. I can’t eat all of this before it grows legs."

He reached for two of the boxes. "Jessica will be thrilled. She’s obsessed with Aditi’s food, even if she finds it a little too spicy sometimes." He paused, his expression softening as he looked at me. "You’re going to be okay tonight?"

"I'm fine," I said, offering a small smile. "Really. Plus Vic will be here. I won’t be afraid of anything. Well, maybe the size of his big dick!"

“Gross,” Darnell chuckled. “The big ol’ one eyed monster!”

We just looked at each other and laughed so hard like we did when we were kids. God, it hurt my lungs and my ribs but laughing with a dear friend made it worth it.

We shared a brief, firm hug—the kind that carried the weight of years of friendship and a few months of shared trauma. As the door closed behind him, the silence of the house rushed back in to meet me.

I immediately dialed Jessica. It was a ritual now, a way to keep the peace in their household and mine.

"Hey, he just pulled out of the driveway," I said when she answered. "He should be home in ten."

"Thanks," Jessica sighed, her voice tight with a tension she couldn't quite hide. "Are you doing okay?"

"I’m alright, Jess. Darnell was just doing his duty—friend and off-duty officer combined. My neighbor, the nephew—the nephew of my now dead stalker—he’s finally packing up. He’ll be gone in a few days. Darnell just wanted to make sure there weren't any 'goodbye' surprises. My friend Vic will be here shortly for the night."

There was a muffled sound on the other end, a low murmur I couldn't quite catch. "What was that?" I asked.

"Nothing," she said, though the doubt was palpable. "I just wonder if he’s telling me the whole truth about how bad things are over there."

I leaned against the counter, closing my eyes. "He learned his lesson about keeping secrets from you, Jess. Honestly, he’s actually planning on spending more time with me over the next week, but it’s for your sake, not mine."

"What does that mean?"

I decided right then to stop the cycle of shadows. "He's planning on proposing. He wants me to help him find an engagement ring for you and get it right. I don't know the 'when'  or ‘where’ yet, so don't mention it, but he’s serious."

The silence on her end shifted from anxious to overwhelmed. "Oh. Thank you for letting me know."

We hung up, and I finally dragged myself upstairs. My bedroom felt like a sanctuary and a cage all at once; still smelling like sex and Vic. I stripped the bed with frantic energy, needing the physical labor to drown out my thoughts. I hauled the bedding down to the basement, started the wash, and then collapsed onto the loveseat in the corner of my bedroom. I was out before my head even hit the cushion.

Ninety minutes of dreamless sleep later, I woke up with a dry mouth and a stiff neck. I showered until the steam filled the room, dressed in clean loungewear, brushed my teeth and remade the bed with crisp sheets from the linen closet. I moved with a mechanical precision—dryer, kitchen, light dusting. I even tucked a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc into the fridge to chill.

I was just closing the fridge door when my phone buzzed with an incoming call. It was Bob.

"Please be honest with me," my brother said without a greeting. "Were you truly planning on telling me that you were home after lunch?"

"I would have called eventually, Bob," I said, a familiar irritation rising. “Maybe not immediately after lunch today but may be another day or so once I settled in.”

"Why did I have to hear it from Vic?"

I groaned, the sound vibrating in my chest. I had hoped Vic would have the sense to keep his mouth shut. We’d both worked for Bob for years, and Bob’s 'no dating the staff' rule was legendary and strictly enforced where I was concerned.

"What else did Vic have to say?" I asked, my voice dropping an octave.

"He said you two have become close - friends actually. Is there anything you want to tell me?"

"Nope. Nada. Zilch. Nein. Zero."

"Fine," Bob said, his tone shifting to something more clinical. "How are the ribs? And the head?"

"The ribs feel worse than the head, usually," I admitted, "but right now, my head hurts worse than my ribs. I have a little stress right now. Make sense?"

Bob let out a short, sharp laugh. "Makes perfect sense. Look, I know you and Vic are fucking."

My heart didn't just sink; it felt like it hit the floor and shattered. I couldn't breathe for a second.

"Relax," Bob continued, sounding strangely casual. "I’m friends with his boss, thanks to the restaurant industry. Since neither of you work for me anymore, it’s not my problem. As long as his wife doesn't find out, I don't care."

I swallowed hard, the chill from the fridge finally reaching my bones. "She knows, Bob."

There was a long, heavy pause on the other end of the line.

"Oh, fuck," Bob stated.

"Yeah, I know," I replied, the weight of the situation settling in. "She isn't happy about it."

Bob let out a heavy breath, shifting gears. "Alright, whatever. But what the hell is going on with Mike? Why do you have men constantly cycling in and out of your house?"

"The short version, Bob? Mike is Patrick’s nephew. When I called him out on it, he tried to play it smooth, but I'm not an idiot. Vince is the one who wanted me protected; he’s the one who pulled in Vic and Darnell." I sighed, leaning against the counter. "Vince is preoccupied trying to start something with Emily—the flight attendant who works with the All Blacks. He swore me to secrecy, threatened me with some truly embarrassing stories if I talked or told you so soon."

"Vince and a flight attendant? Figures. Plus he’s too old for you," Bob muttered, sounding satisfied with the explanation. "Is Vic spending the night?"

"He is,” I said. “Vic’s older than Vince.”

I could feel the next question coming. I knew Bob was about to ask when he could come over to 'check on me' or try to cheer me up. I beat him to it.

"And Bob? As much as I love you, cookies and ice cream won't fix this right now. But a few good fucks will."

There was a beat of silence on the other end as my brother got the hint.

"Message received," he said. “Love you. Be safe!”

“Glad you got it, bro,” I said. “Love you. I’d say, “You too!” but last I heard, you don’t have a stalker, dead or alive!”

“Have fun tonight,” he said.

“No need to tell me twice!”

We laughed for a few minutes then we hung up.

Everything on speaker

Darnell turned onto my road when Vic called. I answered and Vic’s voice came through the speakers, softer than it had been earlier in the day; just before he left in the morning.

“Hey,” he said, “I want to say something before you hang up. I’m sorry if I sounded harsh. I didn’t mean to. I know you try, and I know cooking just isn’t your forte.”

I leaned my head back against the seat and smiled despite myself. “It’s okay,” I told him. “Not everyone can cook like you do. Or like my brother can.”

He laughed, low and warm. “Yeah, well, Bob’s got skills.”

“We made it back to my place just fine,” I said, glancing at the darkened house in front of us. “Darnell just pulled into te driveway. I’m going to clean up a little and then take a nap.”

“A nap?” Vic asked. “Is that really necessary?”

“Yes,” I said without hesitation. “You kept me up last night, and I know damn well you’re going to keep me up again tonight.”

There was a brief pause, just long enough to make it deliberate. “Oh yeah?” he asked. “And how exactly am I keeping you up tonight?”

I laughed. “By fucking me senseless, obviously.”

“Ew. Gross,” Darnell said instantly, recoiling in his seat. “That is absolutely something I did not need to hear or know.”

Vic laughed, and so did I, the sound bouncing around the small space of the car.

Still on speaker, I said, “Hey, thank you again for lunch today. And thank you for helping me out with Aditi. I really appreciate it.”

Darnell nodded, then glanced at the phone like he regretted making eye contact with it. “Yeah, no problem. Glad I could help.” He cleared his throat. “And, uh… Vic? I wish you fun tonight.”

Vic didn’t hesitate. “I always do when I spend the night with her.”

I rolled my eyes, grinning. “For the record,” I added, turning slightly toward Darnell, “I always stretch before Vic and I fuck.”

Darnell made a face like he’d bitten into something sour. “Gross.”

Vic and I laughed again, unbothered and entirely amused.

I opened the car door, stepped out into the evening air, and slung my bag over my shoulder. “I’ll talk to you later,” I told Vic.

“Get your nap,” he said. “You’re going to need it.”

I shook my head, smiling as I closed the door and walked toward the house, already knowing he was right.

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.