Three years later
Amy
London in the early morning summer light was like something out of a movie. Black cabs drove through pretty old streets, lined with flowering beds, and cute pubs and colourful Victorian buildings. Here, in Notting Hill, you could even spot a real life red telephone box. I loved our little neighbourhood, tucked in the heart of one of the busiest, most vibrant cities in the world. We had been here for two years, and just bought our own place six months ago. A Georgian era townhouse with four bedrooms, three baths, and the most rare and precious thing of all, right in the city's heart – a garden.
I sat that morning drinking tea, as I was obliged to, being a UK resident, and answering work emails. Aaron sat opposite, reading an actual paper, and sipping coffee. My phone chimed on the table and I went to pick it up, but my husband was quicker. He clicked on the message notification and frowned. My grumpy professor had only gotten hotter in the last three years, with a sprinkling of grey at his temples, and new, previously unused laugh lines appearing on his tanned face.
“Why does this John whatever keep messaging you?” he asked. I sighed and held my hand out for my phone.
“Because we are working on the same project together. The Tokyo agency one, remember?” I said. Aaron frowned only more.
“Doesn’t he know you’re married?”
“He knows. He’s married too, in fact. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to tell him again when we leave for the work trip on the weekend,” I said sweetly. Aaron put down his paper now and focused on me.
“You are going with John to Tokyo?”
“Yes, just the two of us, separate rooms though,” I said, tossing my hair back over my shoulder. I loved to toy with Aaron just as much today as I had three years ago. My possessive, OTT husband never failed to make me smile at his antics. He might be crazy, but he was crazy about me, and I couldn’t pretend I didn’t feel the same.
“Why didn’t I know about this?” he asked.
“Because you’re not my boss?” I offered. He scowled. “And no, for the tenth time, you can’t buy the company. That’s not a cute look, Mr Cole,” I said to him, hiding my amusement. His eyes narrowed as I picked up my toast and took a bite.
“Well, in that case, perhaps I’ll take that speaking invitation I had turned down in Japan next week,” he said instead, picking up his phone and tapping away at it. My professor turned author husband had become a well-known name in the investment world, practically a household brand at this point. He wrote books on the subject, gave talks, and of course, amassed his own fortune following his own advice. Our fortune, I should say. I of course, already knew about his Japanese invitation to speak, and had been dreading taking the trip without him. When work got too busy, it was possible not to see him for a week at a time, and it was like torture. Of course, I couldn’t admit that to him, as our ongoing rivalry prohibited it. He liked to challenge me, just as much as he had when we’d first met, and I loved to give him hell back. There was nothing as exciting as the prospect of tangling with my bossy dragon professor.
“You’re free to do what you want to, of course,” I said, tapping away at my phone. He didn’t know that not only was John happily married, but his spouse’s name was Eric. A long finger appeared over my screen and pushed my phone down.
“Mrs Cole, I don’t think you’re paying attention to your teacher,” he said in the quiet, demanding tone that always set my skin on fire. It was our playing tone, the tone that often kick-started hours of naughty fun. I batted my eyes at him and shrugged.
“If you think so, do something about it,” I baited him. He smirked, a tightly controlled display of his pleasure, before he stood up from the table and took my teacup from my hand. He set it down, and pulled me up into his arms, and then over his shoulder. I squealed in surprise, and I couldn’t lie, anticipation.
“Oh, I’m going to do something about it, Mrs Cole,” he said, and turned toward the house. As we walked and I wriggled, he smacked my ass hard with a hand, right where I liked it, stilling me for a moment. “Keep that up, and you’ll need a hard lesson upstairs on being good,” he warned, a smile in his voice. I considered that offer a moment and wiggled madly. Aaron laughed, that hearty booming sound I got to hear every day now, and put his hand to my ass, squeezing a handful through my dress.
“Message received Mrs Cole. Class is in session.”