Sweet Obsession
She’d spent so long believing the worst about herself and her beginnings that I doubt she even realizes that it’s become a part of her. I reached out to cup her cheek because my heart wouldn’t let me do otherwise. She’s so sweet, so innocent, so lovely, all the things that I’d missed because I’d been so blind.
“What’s that for?”
“What? I can’t have a tender moment with my wife?” She grinned, and my heart throbbed. This is what I want to see, that light in her eyes that tells me she’s happy. I’m terrified of missing anything else, of not seeing when she’s hurt or feeling lonely. It tears me up inside that she’d been so hurt by someone I trusted, and I know it’ll take me a while to get over it and my part in the whole thing.
“What’re you thinking? You have this weird look on your face.”
“I’m thinking that I love you, that I’m glad we have each other. And that I have to go to work. You’ll be home all morning, won’t you?” She gave me a suspicious look though I tried to be nonchalant in my speech.
“Why? What did you buy this time?” She didn’t accept my smirk for an answer and hounded me out the door. I’m hoping she likes my last surprise before the holiday. I can’t wait to see her reaction.
MADDIE
I’m humming again. This is the second or third time I’ve caught myself doing it. I haven’t hummed or sang in forever, but now I find myself humming a song mom used to hum as she moved around the kitchen cooking. She didn’t have many light days, but every once in a while, she’d be happy usually when something good happened with me, like an A in a class or a reward for the spelling bee.
I moved around the room, trying to sort the warehouse full of clothes Garrick had delivered to the house. I’d stopped looking at price tags an hour ago when the three-thousand-dollar camisole did me in. The man is a menace; he knows what I studied in school, and yet he spends money like water. That’s like chalk scraping over a blackboard for someone like me, but I guess, like he said, I’ll have to get used to it because he’s not stopping.
The days since we’ve been back to the house have been so good. That night after Rene showed up at the penthouse; he’d complained that she’d breached our sanctuary and dragged me back here to the house. Then he questioned if we should sell the house since Rene had, in fact, spent the night here.
On that, I was torn. We had many wonderful memories here. Though I know, he’d bought a home in this neighborhood because of the school district, but his last suggestion takes the cake. According to him, because this house only has three bedrooms, we will be needing a bigger space in the coming years because he planned on keeping me barefoot and pregnant.
My insides had melted at that, and I guess he’d smelled my pussy juicing because the next thing I knew, he was on me, in me. We never got to finish the conversation, but I’ll be sure to remind him. I sat on the edge of the bed as I tried to imagine it. Garrick, me, and the six kids he says he wants. What would that be like surrounding with all those people to love and to love me in return?
My heart ached as I imagined our children, each of them having their own little slice of him and me. Three and three, three boys and three girls. And the big house, somewhere in the country. We could keep the penthouse for weekend getaways when we need a break from the mundane, but yeah, a red brick house like that one from my favorite Xmas movie, Home Alone.
I’ve always loved that house, but I mean, who wouldn’t? As my thoughts ran away with me, I got more into the idea. I could see it, the little play area we’d make in the backyard, with a big swing for mommy and daddy to play on—a rolling lawn out front and a backyard big enough for the kids to roll around in.
I want that. I rolled around on the bed, feeling happier than I ever have. It’s been weeks, and I still sometimes find myself waking up in the middle of the night deathly afraid that it’s all a dream. But then I look over at him, my man, so strong, so gorgeous, so perfectly everything, for me anyway.
Those times he somehow always knows and comes awake, his eyes staring into mine as he turns to me, pulling my body beneath his with a hand on my waist. I love that move he makes, makes me feel like a delicate flower. But there’s nothing delicate about the way he uses my body once he gets inside of me.