I know the minute she walks through the door, tonight is not the night to romance her. If I thought she looked tired when she left this morning, she’s a walking zombie after a long day at work. The good news is she’s home exactly on time, so I know she wasn’t off with some other man. The bad news is I have no idea who he is or if she works with him. He could be one of the doctors making rounds at the hospital for all I know.

Wouldn’t that be karma at her fucking best?

My wife cheating on me with a doctor, of all people.

She drops her purse on the floor with her coat and slumps down onto the couch. With her head leaned back, she closes her eyes and melts into the cushions. I watch her for a moment before moving to her side.

“You need to eat. I bet you didn’t even take a lunch break today.”

One side of her mouth lifts. “There’s never much time for a lunch in ICU. We eat on the run.”

“Come with me.”

She opens her eyes and gives me a puzzled look. “Where are we going?”

Despite not knowing, she puts her hand in mine, and I lead her up the stairs. In our master bathroom, a hot bubble bath waits for her to slip into the water and relax. Candles are lit around the room, and a glass of wine sits on the edge of the garden tub. Her hand flies up to cover her gaping mouth as she takes in the gesture.

“Soak in the tub. Enjoy some wine. Then when you’ve turned into a prune and the water has turned cold, come downstairs and have dinner with me.”

“Thank you, Blake. This is perfect. I won’t be too long.”

“Take as long as you need, babe. I’ll wait for you.” I mean that, in so many more ways than one.

When she comes back downstairs, I make her plate and we eat together. She finds the energy to tell me about her day, and I hang on her every word. Partly because I want to be involved in every aspect of her life, and partly because I’m listening for a recurring male name. By the time we’ve finished dinner, we’ve talked about everything and anything, and I found nothing out of the ordinary to latch on to. Part of me thinks I’m imagining things, but then I remember how she never denied my accusations.

We settle into our place on the couch, and she falls asleep in my arms, her back to my front. Thinking back over how my affair with Tammy began, I realize how much I’d pulled away from Grace beforehand. Then I compare that fact to the way Grace is drawing closer to me. She could easily head up to the bedroom and sleep alone. She could’ve rejected my offer for dinner. She could’ve ignored me. Simply knowing she’s been sleeping on the couch with me settles my torment. A little. I don’t get much sleep—again—but just holding her all night comforts my racing mind.

---

With the holidays and my vacation over, we revert to our normal routines over the following couple of weeks. Work consumes most of my days and Kyle is back in school, but I make a conscious effort to spend time alone with Grace every day. Even if I only meet her for lunch at our kitchen table. I feel the changes in her day after day—she’s becoming more comfortable with me, my touch, and my love for her. When she initiates the touches and kisses, I feel invincible.

“Thank you, Blake,” she says out of the blue during one of our lunch dates.

“For what?” I ask before taking a bite of my sandwich.

“I want you to know I appreciate everything you’re doing for our family. For me. You’re a different man today than you were just a few weeks ago. I feel real hope again, and it feels good.”

“Loving you is as natural as breathing, Grace. I finally get it, what my life is all about. It’s you. You’re the only one I can’t live without, and you were the one I was living without. That’s why I couldn’t find real happiness.”

Her eyes glisten with tears. A few of them escape and drop onto her cheeks. She quickly looks away when she blots her napkin against her face. Then she reaches across the table to take my hand in hers. She laces her fingers with mine and squeezes. She surprises me when she stands and moves to my side. I slide my chair back, and she takes her seat in my lap. She wraps her arms around my neck, and I wrap mine around her waist, realizing she’s lost even more weight.

“Grace, babe, I’m worried about you.”

She shakes her head and crushes her mouth to mine, needy and burning for more. We’re alone, and thank fuck my Friday afternoon workload is light. Kyle won’t be home at all today since he’s staying at Wes’s house tonight. Grace and I have all the time in the world to get reacquainted with each other. And I plan to thoroughly explore her luscious body and remind her why she married me in the first place.

She turns to face me, her legs straddling mine, and her kiss becomes hungrier. My cock hardens against my zipper until her every movement makes it painful. Her fingers roam through my hair while my hands skim over her skin underneath her shirt. She whimpers into my mouth and holds my face in her hands.

Fiery passion consumes us, and before I know it, we’re tugging at each other’s shirts before flinging them onto the floor. Her exposed skin brushes against mine, unhinging what little bit of control I have left. My hands encircle her, and I unhook her bra before sliding it off her arms. She leans into me, her breasts pressing against my chest, as I stand with her in my arms. My hands are splayed across her back, holding her body tightly against mine, and I start for the stairs.

I break our kiss only long enough to wordlessly ask for her permission. With all we’ve been through, I have to know she wants this as much as I do. If she has any reservations at all, she has to tell me now. The only thing I’m certain of is I know exactly who I want to spend my life with, but I need to know where her heart and mind are.

I need to know if she’s with me.

She nods, answering my unspoken question before retaking my mouth with hers. When her tongue glides across mine again, I nearly stop and fuck her up against the closest wall. Had this been any other time, I wouldn’t even have thought twice about it. Her back would be against the wall, and my cock would be pounding into her. But I don’t want our first time together after reconciling to be hurried or rushed. I can’t fucking wait to be inside her as it is. If I stop now, we’ll never make it to the bed where I can take my time driving her crazy.

I top the stairs with her still attached to me as if she weighs nothing, then we reach the bed. As I slide her pants and underwear down her legs, I leave a trail of hot, wet kisses and watch her skin pebble with goose bumps. She’s as ready as I am for this, and knowing that spurs me on even more. She sits up and unbuttons my pants before pushing them down my legs. She scoots to the edge of the bed, slides her hands in my boxer briefs, and slowly peels them off. Intentionally slow. Torturously slow.

Then she licks her lips.

Fuck me…I’m done. She has me right where she wants me. And she’s right where I want her. She licks around the head of my cock, spreading the bead of moisture with her tongue. My fingers thread through her hair, and my head drops back between my shoulder blades. When she takes me in deep, I feel the back of her throat against the tip of my dick. The warmth of her mouth covers me as her mouth and hand work in tandem. The silky wetness of her tongue working my cock nearly sends me over the edge.

My fingers, with her hair still caught between them, curl into a fist. Reluctantly, I pull her head back, freeing myself from the perfection that is her mouth. But that’s not where I want to be right now. This isn’t how I want this round to end. She looks up at me, questioning at first, then a flash of self-doubt lights in her eyes.

“You feel so good, babe,” I emphasize. “You make me feel like an inexperienced teenage boy again, desperately holding on to his last ounce of restraint in the back seat of the car.”

A knowing grin spreads across her face. She remembers that night—the night when we were teenagers and I finally convinced her she’d still be a virgin if we made it to third base. I thought I’d died and gone to heaven when her lips wrapped around my cock for the first time. She was my first…everything, just like I was hers.

“Yeah, I remember that teenage boy and his level of restraint. You didn’t warn me what would happen if I didn’t stop in time. I still think you did that on purpose.”

How could I have been ready to give her up? I’m such a fucking idiot.

“I’ll show you what I’m going to do on purpose,” I promise and gently push her shoulders back. She slides up the bed, ready and waiting for me.

I bury my face between her legs and waste no time in devouring her. With a swipe of my tongue, I lap up her sweetness. A light graze of my teeth across her clit has her nearly sitting up straight in response. Her nails dig into my scalp, and her fingers pull my hair. When I circle her clit with my tongue and slip my finger inside her wet pussy, her hips lift to meet my attentions, shivers run through her body, and she cries out in pleasure.

This is pure heaven.

Even though I initially resented her insistence over me getting checked out by a doctor, I’m infinitely glad I went through with it right now. That’s as far as I’ll allow my thoughts of that time to go—it feels like a lifetime ago now, and there’s no way in hell I’d go back. Having Grace beneath me, her need for me equaling my need for her, is the only place where I belong. The only place I want to be.

Her greedy mouth claims mine when I settle on top of her. We’re skin-to-skin, and I’m taking my time to relish the moments we’re reclaiming for ourselves, for our marriage. Her hands slide down my sides, and her fingers grip my ass, giving me a slight tug. I can’t help but smile through our kiss—she’s not-so-patiently telling me to hurry.

“I can’t wait to be inside you,” I murmur against her skin as I move my mouth down to her neck. Then to her breast. Her nipple is peaked, a taut bud calling for my attention. My hand cups the underswell of her breast, and my mouth covers her nipple before I draw it fully into my mouth.

“Blake, I need your cock inside me now. Stop depriving me.”

Fuck, she still knows exactly how to stoke the fires inside me.

I slip my hand behind her knee and pull her leg up. With our eyes locked, I thrust inside her wet pussy to the hilt. Her fingernails dig into my skin, her neck arches back, and her sexy moan escapes from her lips.

But I completely freeze in place.

I can’t move.

Shock has ripped all reasoning from my mind.

She’s almost as tight as the first time we made love.

“There hasn’t been anyone else for you. Has there?” I already know the answer, but I need to hear the words.

She shakes her head from side to side, but her gaze never strays from mine. The truth is there in the depths of her beautiful emerald green eyes. “No, there hasn’t been.”

I’ve never been a crier, but tears sting the back of my eyes when I stare down into hers. Though I betrayed her in the worst fucking way, she never betrayed me. She’s remained true this whole time, even knowing what I was doing. Even though she had every right. Even though she knew I planned to ask for a divorce.

“Blake?” she murmurs softly, her eyes questioning me. That burst of insecurity flashes in her gaze again—the doubt I put there.

“I’m just thinking about how I’m the luckiest fucking man alive. Because of you. Whether you’re ready to say the words to me again or not, I have to tell you. I love you, Grace. I will tell you every day for the rest of my life. I was lost, but you found me and pulled me back from the edge. You saved me from myself. You’re my saving grace.”

Tears slide down from the corners of her eyes, across her temples, and disappear into her hairline. She opens her mouth, the words hang on the tip of her tongue, but she stops short of saying them. That’s okay, though. I deserve that—and she deserves time. In the meantime, I’ll give her every reason to want to say it again. To feel it again.

I release her leg and slide her hands above her head and grind into her. Between the wetness and the softness and the tightness, I use every bit of my focus to keep from ending this way too soon. She becomes my willing rag doll, and I use that to both of our advantages by twisting, turning, bending, moving her into every conceivable position. With every thrust into her sweet pussy, I pour my love and feelings into her. With every grip of my fingers on her hips, I show her how much I love her. With every orgasm that rips through her body, I remind her how much she means to me.

By the time we’re both wringing wet with sweat and panting for our next breath, her tears are flowing freely over her cheeks. When we tumble over the edge of ecstasy together, she sobs softly into the crook of my neck. But I know her every sound, her every reaction, her every emotion.

These aren’t tears of sorrow.

They’re tears of love.

When I finally allow her to leave the bed and my arms, we move to the bathroom together to clean up. The bright light blinds us both for a moment, but when my vision clears, concern fills me and alarm bells ring in my head.

“What the hell happened to your arm, Grace?” Bruises cover the inside of her elbow, all stages of black, purple, green, and yellow.

“It’s nothing, Blake. We had some student nurses come through, and I let a couple practice their IV skills on me.”

“Did I hurt you just now?”

“No, you didn’t hurt me. Well, not my arm anyway. I may have a little trouble walking tomorrow, though.”

“I’m sorry, babe, but I don’t feel bad about that at all.”

We laugh together then I sweep her up in my arms to carry her back to bed. Our bed, where I sleep with my arm around her all night, spooning her from behind. Again. Finally.