Thirty-five and Single

I yank on his hair, bringing his face to mine, fucking his mouth with wordless desire.

He’s like a conductor as we come hard together, having created a well-timed crescendo for both of us.

This man, I think as he lazily draws words on my belly from the evidence of our lovemaking. He’s everything Corey isn’t. Considerate and mature, things that don’t come from age, but experience.

I sit up, forcing him to get to his feet from his awkward position between my legs. I point to the paint.

“May I?”

His amusement mirrors my own.

“Okay, Olivia. What do you have in store for me?”

I get off the chair and point to it.

“Your turn.”

He dutifully complies and lies flat as I admire his well-defined ridges and planes of muscle. The man is ripped. I sigh because his long, thick cock lies lazily on his thigh. It’s going to be my pleasure to bring it back to life, but first I dip a brush into black paint.

“Don’t look,” I say, shifting the mirror so he can’t see.

I’m no artist, but what I’m doing doesn’t take talent.

“You can look now.”

I shift the mirror so he can see and say the words I’ve written on him.

“I love you too.”

He doesn’t look smug, but amazed.

“From the very first moment I wanted to make you mine,” he says.

I rest an arm on the chair but my chin in my hand.

“Oh, really? Was that your end game?”

“No,” he says, a smirk appearing on his gorgeous mouth. “You want to know what my end game is?”

“Yes.”

Though life has jaded me some, I’m hopeful for his answer.

“To make you my wife.”

Epilogue

Three years later – Olivia

My belly is swollen, my feet ache, and somehow, I manage to walk across the stage. I accept the leather-bound portfolio that declares I’m a graduate and I might have fist pumped when cheers erupt all around me.

Somewhere in the crowd is my family. My parents, my three sisters, Amelia, Melissa and Ella, and my husband and love of my life, Joel.

It feels amazing and daunting at the same time. With a set of twin toddlers (one of our beans had been hiding behind the other in the first picture I’d shown Joel), and another set on the way, being a mother feels more important than a career.

As the crowd quiets for the next name, I hear a very loud Mama as I near the edge of the stage. The crowd laughs and I shake my head to myself. That has to be Jack. At two, he’s all about Mama, for now at least. Our daughter, Jill, is most likely curled in her father’s lap with two fingers in her mouth. A habit we haven’t been able to curb yet.

Movement in the back of the room catches my attention and I see him. Corey. He stands at the back near the doors and silently gives me a nod before exiting.

I’m not surprised he’s here. We’ve known each other all of our lives. And though things hadn’t worked out for us, I know he cares about me. He didn’t put up a fight in the divorce, giving me half of everything without protest. He even went further and gave me back the money I earned to help pay for his law school with a note encouraging me to finish my degree.

I can’t hate him for what he did. If he hadn’t cheated on me, I would have never met Joel. Some things just happen for a reason.

My younger but determined husband has been my biggest supporter no matter what I wanted to do. When I decided to finish my degree, even if I never used it, he had been there with suggestions on how we could make it work. I’d enrolled in my first back to university semester while I was pregnant the first time. I quit my job and studied my ass off. After the twin’s arrival, Joel was there as super dad watching our kids while I attended a class I couldn’t take online.

When the ceremony is over, I find him first, bypassing the well wishes of my family.

“You did it, babe.”

I can say I’ll never tire of that word.

“Yeah, thanks to you,” I say and soundly kiss him before scooping up my son who tugs on my ceremonial robe.

Jill’s there holding up her arms to Joel, who picks her up with a little toss in the air that makes her giggle.

“Now it’s your turn,” I say to my husband.

Joel’s been slowly stepping back from the tattoo parlor, not because he doesn’t love it. But because he’s been concentrating on his art.

A friend of a friend of Ella’s owns a gallery in New York. I sent some pictures of Joel’s art to her and she wants some pieces for an upcoming art show. That’s where we’re headed in a few days.