The confession

The afterglow of our amazing sex in the spare bedroom lingered, a warm, heavy blanket of contentment. Randy and I lay tangled together, our bodies still humming from the intense pleasure we'd shared. His arm was draped over my waist, his breathing slow and even against my hair. I felt utterly sated, cherished, and completely at peace.

Then, his voice, soft and gentle, broke the silence. "Deppgrl?"

"Hmm?" I murmured, my eyes still closed, basking in the warmth.

"There's something we need to talk about."

My entire body tensed. The warmth evaporated instantly, replaced by a cold dread that snaked through my veins. My heart now pounded against my ribs. Instinctively, I knew this was about Vic. Fear, sharp and immediate, gripped me. Was he going to break up with me?

I slowly opened my eyes, turning my head to look at him. His gaze was kind, but serious. "What is it?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper, afraid of the answer.

He took a deep breath. "Vic."

My breath hitched. My throat tightened, making it hard to swallow. "How did you know?" The question was out before I could stop it.

Randy's thumb began to gently stroke my bare hip as his mouth nipped at my nipples, a comforting gesture that somehow made the tension even worse. "Your body, babe," he said, his voice still gentle. "Afterwards. It's different; somehow more reactive, almost like it's been awakened in a way I haven't quite managed yet. It's subtle, but I know you and I know your body. Plus Vic reached out to me."

My eyes widened in shock. "He did what?"

"He called me this morning and explained everything." Randy paused, his eyes searching mine. "He told me you two met while the both of you worked for your brother. He said that you knew he was married, and that you still hooked up for years, on and off. He told me that as much as he cares deeply for you but he wouldn't leave his wife. He felt it was wrong for it to continue."

"Randy, I'm so sorry," I finally managed, tears pricking at my eyes. "I didn't know how to tell you.”

Randy pulled me closer, holding me tight. "Hey, hey," he murmured, pressing a kiss to my hair. "It's okay. I understand more than you think. People have complicated pasts, complicated connections. What matters is us." He pulled back slightly, looking into my eyes, his grip firm on my shoulders. "This doesn't change how I feel about you. Not about us."

A sob escaped me, a mix of relief and lingering guilt. "It doesn’t?"

"No," he said, his voice absolute. "I love you and I want to be with you. But we need to be honest with each other, always.”

I nodded, burying my face in his chest, feeling the last of the tension finally drain from my body. "Okay," I whispered.

Later that evening, after the initial shock and the emotional release, a different thought began to form in my mind. Randy's understanding, his willingness to accept my complicated past, made me feel a profound sense of gratitude.

"Randy?" I began, as we were tidying up the kitchen after making dinner - that night, I made Mile High Lasagna for dinner. This wasn't the typical lasagna; it was built in a tall baking pan, creating layers upon layers of rich, meaty sauce, creamy ricotta, and perfectly al dente pasta, all bound together with generous amounts of melted mozzarella and Parmesan cheese. The aroma alone filled the house, promising a hearty, comforting meal.

"Yeah, babe?" he replied, putting away some dishes.

"I've been thinking about Sarah. The least I could do is actually meet her. For drinks, maybe. No kids, just us."

A slow smile spread across his face, a look of genuine surprise and relief. "Are you serious? That would mean a lot - to her, and to the kids."

"I am," I confirmed, a nervous flutter in my stomach, but also a sense of resolve.

"Emma and Max are old enough to be home alone," Randy said, "but I'll have my sister watch them, just so we don't have to worry. I'll call Sarah after dinner.”

"Sounds good," I agreed, taking his hand.

"Wow, this smells incredible, Deppgrl!" Randy exclaimed, as I pulled the lasagna from the oven. "Mile High is right!"

"It's all in the pan," I chuckled, carefully slicing into it. "And the patience to layer it just right."

We ate until we were gloriously full, savoring every bite of the towering pasta dish. There would be leftovers for the next six years. After we finished dinner and cleaned up, Randy picked up his phone. "Okay, let's call Sarah." He dialed, putting her on speaker. "Hey, Sarah, you're on speaker."

"Hi Randy," Sarah's voice came through, clear and surprisingly friendly. "Everything alright?"

"Everything's great," Randy said, glancing at me with a smile. "Deppgrl agreed to meet you and suggested drinks. Does tomorrow work for you?"

"Oh, really?" Sarah's voice held a note of genuine pleasure. "Alcoholic drinks? That's a fantastic idea!" She and Randy shared a laugh through the phone. "Yes, tomorrow works perfectly. How about 12:30 PM at The Old Mill?"

"Perfect," Randy confirmed. "We'll see you then."

"Great! Looking forward to it!"

"Bye, Sarah," Randy said.

After the call with Sarah, Randy and I decided to go to Dominic's restaurant for some gelato. The evening air was cool and pleasant as we walked the few blocks. Inside, the display case was a vibrant mosaic of colors, with so many flavors to pick from.

"Oh, wow, this is tough," I mused, peering at the options. "So many choices!"

"Tell me about it," Randy chuckled. "What's calling your name?"

"Hmm, I think I'm feeling something classic," I decided, pointing. "Cookies and Cream for me."

"Good choice," he said. "I'm going with something fruitier tonight. Raspberry."

We got our cones and stepped back out, walking slowly as we savored the cold, sweet treat.

"This is so good," I said, taking a bite of my gelato. "Perfect after lasagna."

"Agreed," Randy replied, his raspberry gelato a bright contrast to my speckled white. "So, feeling any better about tomorrow?"

I sighed, a small knot still in my stomach. "A little. Your understanding helps. But it's still... Sarah. You know?"

"I do," he said, gently bumping his shoulder against mine. "But you'll be great. She's really looking forward to it."

We walked and talked until our gelato was gone, then headed back to my place.

We went to bed, and the passion that had been building all evening finally erupted. Randy's hands were everywhere, exploring every curve, every inch of my body, his lips following, leaving a trail of fire. We kissed deeply, hungrily, our bodies pressing together, seeking every point of contact. He entered me with a deep groan, and we moved together, a powerful, rhythmic dance of desire. His fingers found my nipples, gently kneading and teasing them until they were exquisitely sensitive. We made love several times, exploring various positions, each one driving us to the brink of ecstasy. With every powerful thrust, every shared gasp, we climaxed hard and often, our bodies convulsing around each other, and each time, Randy's thick cum filled me completely, leaving us breathless and utterly sated. Eventually, gloriously exhausted, we fell asleep in each other's arms.

A few hours later, I found myself wide awake, my mind racing. I slipped out of bed, careful not to disturb Randy, and went to the kitchen. It was already spotless from our earlier tidying, but I found myself compulsively wiping down the counters again, then pulling out ingredients for homemade brownies. The rhythmic clinking of bowls and the soft thud of the flour bag, despite my best efforts to be quiet, eventually stirred Randy.

"Deppgrl?" his voice was groggy from the bedroom doorway. "What's going on? It's the middle of the night."

I jumped, startled, nearly dropping the mixing spoon into the cleaned bowl. "Oh, Randy! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you." I turned to him, my shoulders slumping. "I couldn't sleep. I'm really nervous about meeting Sarah tomorrow."

He walked over to me, pulling me into a gentle hug. "Hey," he murmured, rubbing my back. "It's okay to be nervous but you don't need to be. She may no longer love me, but she’ll love you. Trust me."

I leaned into his warmth, taking comfort in his words. Just then, the oven timer dinged. "Brownies are ready," I said, a small, weak smile forming.

He chuckled softly. "Perfect timing. Let's get these out."

We took the warm, fragrant brownies out of the oven, the sweet smell filling the kitchen.

We went back to bed, had sex a few more times, the shared intimacy easing my anxieties further, and then finally fell back into a deep sleep. Our alarm woke us up a few hours later, signaling the start of a new day.