Chapter 15

Claire

It’s not real, it’s not real...Breathe, Claire...Breathe...

I jumped out of bed and ran downstairs to the kitchen. I opened a cabinet and grabbed a packet of Tylenol, tossing the pills down my throat.

I flung the refrigerator door open and reached for a bottle of water, downing it in one gulp. I took out another one as soon as I finished.

This happened to me every year—every. single. year. Every time my wedding anniversary rolled around.

I shut my eyes and tried to calm myself down from the nightmare I’d just had—the one that featured my husband running off with my best friend, the one that featured her getting pregnant with his baby. But, once I opened my eyes and looked around, once I saw that my kitchen was not our kitchen, I realized that it wasn’t a nightmare after all.

I sank down to the floor and sighed, trying to make myself think of something else—anything else, but another ugly memory forced itself across my mind... 

––––––––

It was weeks after the hurtful revelation, and Amanda hadn’t called or texted me to say that she was sorry. She hadn’t said a word about her part in the affair to any of our mutual friends.

Nada. Zilch. Nothing.

I walked into our neighborhood grocery store—puffy eyed, drained, and ugly, and spotted her in a wrinkled red sundress. I saw her turning down the very aisle I needed: Specialty ice cream.

I knew she was going to pick out our favorite mint chocolate chip brand and cry just like I’d planned to, but we weren’t going to be crying together this time.

We were going to be crying separately, over the same situation that had broken us in two very different ways.

I followed her down the aisle and tapped her on the shoulder.

“Yes? May I—” She dropped the carton to the floor as soon as her swollen eyes met mine.

There was silence as we looked at one another, as we searched for something to say about a situation best friends should never have to go through.

I tried to control my anger, tried to step back and take a slow deep breath, but it didn’t work. I drew my hand back and slapped the shit out of her.

She gasped and reached up to touch her cheek. The fact that I almost felt sorry for her made me want to vomit.

“I deserved that...” she whispered.

“No shit.”

“I am...I am so so sorry, Claire.” Her voice cracked. She uncovered her cheek and I saw the beautiful red imprint of my hand. “I never ever wanted to hurt you...I wanted to call you and say something but...I already know you’ll never forgive me for what’s happened...If I could take everything back, I swear I would. I didn’t realize that—”

“That I was married? That you were the maid of honor at my wedding? That you helped me shop for an anniversary present every year? What exactly didn’t you realize?”

“I didn’t think our feelings were—”

“Real? Genuine? Worth mentioning before I tied the knot? As much as it would’ve hurt me, Amanda—as much as I would’ve cried over it—if you had just said, ‘Hey. I have feelings for Ryan and he has feelings for me too,’ before we got married, hell before we got engaged this would’ve...” I couldn’t hold back my tears. “Do you even realize how fucked up this all is? This isn’t some goddamn romance book on your shelf, Amanda! This is my fucking life!”

“I really am sorry...I—”

“When the fuck were you going to tell me?” I wanted to slap her again. “Huh? When the baby was born? When he turned two? At one point did you and Ryan think about letting your spouses in on this twisted ass joke?”

“Listen to—”

“Answer the goddamn question!”

She sighed. “We never discussed that...”

“Of course you didn’t...I guess fucking each other all the time was conversation enough.” I moved past her and took two cartons of mint chocolate chip from the fridge.

“Claire, wait...I’ll always hate myself for—”

“That makes two of us. We’ve always shared the same enemies.”

“I can’t say how sorr—”

“The only reason I’m not stomping the living shit out of you right now is because you’re carrying a baby—my ex-husband’s baby. But the more I stand here looking at how pathetic you are, I’m tempted to disregard that fact because you’re not really sorry, Amanda. You’re only sorry because you got caught. And you’re right, I will never forgive you.”

––––––––

I swallowed one more Tylenol pill and washed it down. I looked at my watch and realized it was noon.

I can’t waste my whole weekend thinking about this... I need to do something...

I walked over to the pantry and saw that there was nothing inside but a box of cereal and a jar of unopened peanut butter.

Problem solved...

––––––––

I stood in front of the meat freezer at Whole Foods, debating whether I should buy two or three packages of chicken. Since Ashley had recently given up her “vegan-status,” she and Caroline were on some type of “all-protein” fix and they’d been eating meat like crazy.

For the past few nights, I’d witnessed them scarf down grilled ham sandwiches, burritos, and turkey burgers like their lives depended on it.

I decided to go with three and headed for the register.

As usual, there were only two cashiers working, and since it was Saturday—the day everyone else did their shopping, I prepared myself for a long wait in line.

I picked up a copy of Cosmopolitan magazine and skimmed through the pages, trying not to laugh at the ridiculous article titles: “The Number One Thing He Craves in Bed Tonight...” “How to Break the Three Date Rule,” and “Two Hundred Sex Tricks That Will Make Him Love You.”

I turned to another page and saw an article entitled, “For ANY Relationship: How to Keep Things Spicy.” I read the first paragraph and rolled my eyes, but I kept reading:

“The key to any relationship—whether you’re young or a little more mature in age—is not communication! (Well, that IS important but we’ll get to that later.) The key is variety—within your date nights, within your displays of affection, and within your bedroom.

“Since this is Cosmo, we’re going to focus on key number three! Your bedroom!

“Sex should never be the same thing day in and day out. It should be spontaneous, passionate, and so amazingly good that you and your guy think about it for days after. (If you’re not already having sex again that is...)

“Our senior editors decided to take the plunge for you, interviewing over a thousand men for this feature. They asked each of them what they liked most about the women they’ve dated, what turns them on, and most importantly how important variety is to a relationship.

“Feel free to read exclusive interviews on the next page, but for now, we’re going to give you a list of tips to automatically boost your sex life and add some much needed variety!

“1. Sexting! Sexting is a—”

I couldn’t read anymore. I reached for something safer—Oprah’s O magazine, and searched for her most recent book club picks.

I moved up two spaces in line and cursed under my breath. There was an elderly couple arguing with the cashier about a stack of coupons.

“Excuse me?” A blonde tapped my shoulder.

“Yes?”

“Could you pass me a copy of Cosmo please?”

“Sure.” I picked one up and handed it to her.

“You know, a lot of it is crazy but some of this stuff actually works on my husband.” She laughed and walked away.

She’s got to be kidding me...

I pulled Cosmo off the rack again and read the rest of the article:

“1. Sexting! Sexting is a great way to spice up any relationship! Now, if you’ve never done it before, you may want to start off with a regular text conversation to make sure that he’s near his phone and it won’t be seen by anyone else.

“Once you’ve committed to sexting, you should simply text your guy something simple, something like “I’m sooo horny” and then say something short and naughty right after. For example: “I’m sooo horny. I wish you could see what I have on right now.”

“Once your guy sees the text, he’ll definitely text you something naughty back. Don’t let it die down after this! Continue engaging him in sexy banter all day.

“The next time you two are together, he’ll be reminded of your messages and want to live out everything the both of you ‘sexted’ about.

“Trust us, nearly every guy we interviewed said engaging in sexting was one of the best things that—”

“These are supposed to be double coupons!” “We are not paying an extra dollar!” “Where is the manager?” The elderly couple ahead interrupted my reading.

I sighed. I figured I might as well try to have some fun while I waited in line.

I pulled my phone out and sent Jonathan a text: “I’m sooo horny. I can’t wait to ride your dick again...”

I found my place in the article once more and started reading about points two and three: Homemade sex tapes and weekend sex retreats.

My phone started ringing and I answered without looking at the screen. I was too wrapped up in reading about the benefits of using flavored condoms.

“Hello?”

“If you want to ride my dick that badly, you don’t have to wait. Where are you?”

Jonathan?! “You’re supposed to text back! Not call me! Why can’t you just text back like a normal—”

“Where. Are. You?”

My body tingled from the sound of his voice. “I’m at Whole Foods...”

“Which one?”

“The one on Fourth Street...”

“I’ll be there in ten minutes. Go to your car and get in the back seat.” He hung up.

Ugh. Fuck Cosmo... They clearly didn’t interview any “Jonathan Statham” types...

“Ma’am? Ma’am?” The cashier looked at me. “You can start unloading your cart now...”

“Um, actually...I need to get something else...”

I pushed my cart out of line and parked it in the soft drinks aisle. I headed to the restroom and looked myself over: Pink collared shirt, light blue jeans, slightly tousled hair.

My cheeks were bright red and my body was aching—longing to be touched; I had to silently scold myself to calm down.

Am I really this insatiable? Am I as bad as he is?

I took a deep breath and walked out, taking my time to get through the store and into the parking lot. I found my car and fumbled around in my purse for the keys, dropping them to the ground.

I bent down to pick them up, but Jonathan grabbed them before I could.

“Good afternoon, Claire,” he whispered against my neck, setting my nerves on fire. 

“Hi...”

He kept the keys in his hand and unlocked the back door. “You first.”

I stepped inside and scooted over to the window. He stepped in after me and shut the door.

I looked away, but he reached over and tilted my face towards him. I was literally trembling in anticipation, wondering when he would start ripping my clothes off.

Instead, he simply looked into my eyes, tracing his fingertips along my jawline—along my lips. Without breaking gaze with me, he slid closer and gently dragged my headband away from my hair. He tossed it towards the front seat and cupped my face in his hands, still staring into my eyes, making me wet while barely touching me.

“What made you text me that today?” he asked, dropping his hands to unbutton my jeans.

“I was trying to do the sexting thing...”

“The sexting thing?” He pushed my pants down.

“Yes. You were supposed to text me back. Then, we were supposed to send sexy messages back and forth all day so—”

“I don’t do sexting.” He unbuckled his belt and slid out of his pants.

“Why not?”

“I prefer to bypass the bullshit.” He laid me across the seat and tugged my pants to my ankles. “What were the exact words of your text again?”

“Pull out your phone and look it up.”

“Excuse me?”

“I didn’t stutter...”

“Neither did I.” He raised his eyebrow. “I’m only going to ask you one more time.”

“Good, because I’m going to give you the exact same answer.”

He smiled as he slid my shirt over my head. “You make things so fucking difficult sometimes. We need to work on changing that.” He flipped me over on my stomach before I could say something back.

“Ahhhh...” I felt him giving my ass a soft slap and snapping my bra off.

My breath caught in my throat once I felt him tying my hands behind my back with his belt, once I heard him unwrapping a condom.

“Do you get some type of pleasure out of being difficult?” He slipped two fingers inside of me.

“No...”

“Are you sure?” He tightened the belt around my wrists. “You sure you don’t enjoy it?”

“Yes... I’m sure...”

“I’m not.” He slowly slid his dick into me—not all the way, just enough to make me murmur, enough to make me regret not answering his question.

He planted kisses on my bound hands, running his tongue across my wrists, gently biting each of my fingertips. He ran his hands along my sides and sighed, placing light kisses in the groove of my back.

I tried to stifle my moans but I couldn’t; he knew my body too well.

“Admit that you like being difficult.” He slid into me a little further.

“I don’t...”

“Then tell me what your text said.”

“It said that I—” I screamed as he buried himself deep inside of me, as he kept my body pinned down to the seat with his arms. “Ohhh...Jonathannnn...”

“Tell. Me. What. Your Text. Said.” He pounded into me over and over, never giving me the chance to catch a breath. He repeated his question, more sternly this time, and forcefully tugged my hair back with each stroke.

“I...” I felt him slapping my ass and my clit throbbed with insane pleasure.

“Do you need a hint?”

“No...”

“Then say it.” He slowed his pace, but he kept thrusting in and out of me and pulling my hair.

“It said that...that...”

“Yes?”

“That I...”

He slapped my ass again. “That you what?”

“That I can’t wait to...to ride your dick again.”

“Hmmm...” He pulled out of me and untied my hands, kissing my hands as he did it. “Was that so hard to say? Why couldn’t you say that a few minutes ago?”

I didn’t get a chance to answer him. He’d already flipped me over so that I was on top of him.

He brushed a few strands of hair away from my face and leaned up to kiss me—gently biting my bottom lip and caressing my back.

I was looking into his eyes, his beautiful blue eyes, and he was looking back into mine. I didn’t want to say a word; I felt like we could sit like that forever and communicate just by gazing at one another.

He smiled and lay back against the seat.

I slowly adjusted my legs and straddled him, slowly sinking myself onto his dick. I gasped once he was completely inside of me; shut my eyes once he gripped my hips.

“Don’t close your eyes,” he whispered. “I want to look at you.” He waited for me to blink them open, commanding me to move without saying another word.

I pressed my palms onto his chest and started to rock—back and forth, up and down, around and around. I moaned as he reached up and caressed my breasts with his hands, as he rolled my nipples between his fingers.

“Claire...” He kept his eyes locked on mine. “Lean forward.”

“No.” I leaned back and put my arms behind me, grabbing onto his thighs, and rotated my hips. I tried to keep a steady rhythm—a steady slow one, but my body’s needs overrode my mind’s thoughts.

“Ahhhh...” I let go of his legs and leaned forward, driving myself deeper and deeper into him, screaming as he met me thrust for thrust.

He reached for my hands, intertwining his fingers with mine. “Don’t stop...” His breathing was becoming erratic.

“I’mmmm...I’m about to...I—”

“Don’t cum yet.” He let my hands go and wrapped his arms around me, giving me an intense stare. “Wait for me.”

“I can’t...I—”

“Wait.”

My hips were bucking wildly; my breaths were becoming shorter and shorter. If he didn’t let me cum soon I was going to lose the ability to breathe.

He rose up, still buried deep inside of me with his arms around my waist, and took what little breath I had away with an open mouthed kiss.

“Let go,” he whispered against my lips and my insides exploded all around him.

I felt him jerking inside of me and that sent another scream-worthy sensation ripping through my body. The force of it knocked me forward into his chest and made both of us fall back against seat.

“You’re amazing...” He rubbed his palms against my back.

I murmured something, maybe “thank you,” and continued sucking in as much air as I could. I was breathing like I’d just finished a marathon—still shuddering from that mind-blowing climax.

I can’t believe I just had sex in a grocery store parking lot...What the hell is wrong with me?

I took a few more deep breaths, breathing in the sweet scent of his cologne. I winced as he moved me off of him, as he sat up and began picking up my clothes.

“We have a lot of sex, Jonathan...” I gasped once I realized that I’d said that out loud.

“Is that a problem?”

“No...It’s just different for me...”

“Me too.” He sat next to me and smoothed my hair with his hands.

I find that hard to believe...

“How is it different for you? You didn’t have endless sex with any of the other sixteen women?”

“No.”

“I thought you said you didn’t lie. I refuse to believe that you didn’t indulge or enjoy—”

“Claire,” he said, letting out an exasperated sigh, “you’re completely incomparable to any woman I’ve ever dated. Period.”

“I—”

He pressed his fingers against my lips. “I don’t like to compare past relationships, but since I know you’ll keep thinking about it if I don’t...” He looked into my eyes. “I did enjoy having sex with the women of my past—I liked it. Really liked it. But I honestly could’ve done without it because it was never memorable. It never made me feel anything. It’s not like that with you. I love having sex with you, and I personally don’t think we have enough. But that’s not the only reason why this is different for me...In my past relationships, I never thought about any of them the way I think about you. You’d be surprised how often you cross my mind...Do I need to say more or is that answer good enough for now?”

“For now.” I smiled and he gave me a kiss. 

“Are you going to finish your grocery shopping now?” He held my shirt up so I could slip my arms through it.

“No. I can’t go back in there...”

“Why not?”

“Because everyone will know that I just had sex.”

“How?”

“I’m pretty sure the sweat and the male cologne on my skin will give it away.”

“So?”

“So, I’m not going in there.” I rolled my eyes as he helped me into my pants.

“Would it help if I went in with you?”

“Um, no.”

“Because we’re in public, right?” He shook his head and handed me his phone. “I’ll have Greg get your stuff and deliver it to your place tonight. Type everything you need, specific brands if you have preferences.”

I typed everything that was in my cart and a few extra things I’d forgotten about. I pulled out my credit card and handed it to him once he was on the phone.

“Greg? Yes.” He eyed the card suspiciously and handed it back to me. “I just sent you a list of things that Miss Gracen needs for tonight. Make sure it’s done as soon as possible. Thank you.”

“You don’t have to pay for—” My sentence was cut off once he leaned forward and kissed me.

“Stop it.” He smiled. “I want to take you somewhere.”

“Now?”

“Yes. Now. Give me your keys. I’ll drive.”

––––––––

I opened my eyes and realized I was lying on the hood of my car. It was unusually warm outside and the wind was soft and gentle.

I turned on my side and saw Jonathan smiling at me.

“Did you get enough rest?” He leaned over and kissed my cheek.

“How long was I asleep?”

“Not that long.”

“Oh... Any reason why we’re lying on the hood of my car?”

“I don’t think you can fully appreciate the view from the front seat.”

I turned my head and saw that we were at a clearing on the ocean. We were parked on the edge of a private dock that overlooked a grassy mountain range—low enough to feel the soft sprays of the sea.

There was a shoreline a few feet behind us, with a row of wooden villas that were slightly secluded by overgrown trees.

Where are we? I’ve never seen this side of—

“Tell me something that I don’t know about you.” He moved closer and held my hand.

“I think I might be attracted to you...”

“Something that I don’t know.” He smiled. “I knew that the first day we met.”

“You’re so full of yourself...I wanted to be an actress when I was growing up.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I was in every play in high school and I was in drama clubs all over the city. I just knew that that was what I was going to be...My classmates even voted me ‘Most Likely to be Famous’ in the yearbook.”

“Why didn’t you pursue that when you went to college?”

The flag charms on my necklace suddenly felt heavy and my heart began to ache. I could feel a lump rising up my throat but I pushed it back down.

“I...” I couldn’t talk about that. Not today. Not ever. “I just didn’t have the heart for it anymore...Tell me something I don’t know about you.”

“I used to be fat.”

I burst into laughter. “I don’t believe you!”

“It’s true. I don’t know how it was possible since I starved for half my childhood, but I was chubby up until my first semester of college...Then I was forced to change.”

“Why?”

He put his arm around my shoulders. “I really needed a third job because the hours I was getting at the car wash and the coffee shop weren’t cutting it...The one place that was always looking for new talent told me they’d take me on if I lost weight and got in shape.”

“What type of job makes you lose weight?”

“A high paying one with lots of desperate women...”

“You sold yourself for money?”

He laughed. “No. I danced.”

I was quiet for several seconds. I guessed it made sense that a theater company would want its dancers to be thin and fit. Although, men appreciated the art of dance too so I didn’t quite understand the “desperate women” part.

“You did ballet?” I asked. “Was it hard to—”

“Seriously? No, I did not do ballet. I was a stripper. In a strip club.”

I blinked. I knew my cheeks were on fire but I tried to put on my best poker face anyway.

“I don’t know if I can believe that...” But I want to...

He pulled his phone out and scrolled through a gallery of pictures, stopping on one that featured a group of men dressed in various costumes—postal workers, policemen, Indians, cowboys.

“That’s me in the back—in the fireman costume.” He smiled. “I had to pay a lot of money to make sure none of these photos resurfaced...Do you believe me now?”

I didn’t say anything. I just smiled.

“Tell me something else, Claire.”

“Um...” I paused. “My ultimate dream...After I quit Statham Industries and start my design company, I want to sail the world on a luxury liner. I want to rent one for a whole year and stop as many places as I can.”

“By yourself?”

“With my friends—my female friends.”

“Duly noted.” He grinned.

“It’s your turn to—”

“You’re a vision. Do you know that? Do you know how beautiful you are?” He trailed his fingertips across my lips. “I don’t think you fully understand that sometimes... I could gaze at you all day.”

My heart started fluttering and I wanted to say “Thank you, you too,” but the words locked themselves in my throat.

“You’re not thinking about anything right now are you?”

I shook my head.

“Good.” He slid off the hood and pulled me up. “Leave your phone there...I’ve always wanted to do this to someone.”

“Do wh—” Before I could get the words out, he was picking me up and my body was free falling in the air. The next thing I knew, I was hitting the cold waters of the ocean and sinking down below.

I frantically swam back up to the surface, splashing all around and gasping for air, looking for wherever he was so I could kill him.

He came up to the surface a few feet away, laughing. “Did you like that? Corey claims some water from the Fountain of Youth was poured in here centuries ago. If he’s right we’ll wake up ten years younger tomorrow.”

“Are you crazy? What if I didn’t know how to swim? You can’t just throw people into the ocean!”

He shrugged. “I guess you would’ve died...But since you told me you knew how to swim weeks ago, I’m glad that wasn’t a lie.”

“Do you record our conversations?”

“Every single one.”

“Whatever. You expect me to drive home wet?”

“Not this type of wet, no.”

“I’m serious!”

“It’s taken care of. Greg will be here soon. In the meantime...” He gave me one of his ‘I’m about to fuck you’ looks and moved towards me.

I swam away from him as fast as I could, heading towards the beach. 

As the cool waves lapped up against my skin, I realized that I’d never felt so free, so alive.

Once I made it to the shoreline, I stood up and tried to run, but Jonathan grabbed me from behind and pulled me down to the sand.

“I don’t think sand and sex go together.” I laughed as he pinched my nipples through my wet shirt.

“Who said anything about sex? Is that always on your mind?”

“Is it always on yours?”

“Of course.” He laughed. “Come on, we need to get out of these clothes.”

He helped me up and walked me along the beach, to one of the small wooden villas. He entered a code on a small keypad and the door glided open.

He waited for me to walk inside and motioned for me to sit on a white loveseat.

I looked all around, in genuine awe of the place. It was fitted with a beautiful brick fireplace, a state of the art kitchen, and I could see a large bedroom across the hall.

“Is this your vacation rental?”

“A rental?” He opened a closet. “No, I own this. I own all of them.”

“Why do you need so many?”

“I had them built last year. One of the members on my board asked me to invest in a similar project in Florida. After seeing how profitable it was, I decided to open my own here. They’ll be available for people to rent in a few months. Would you like one for yourself?”

“Oh, no...I probably couldn’t afford—”

“You wouldn’t have to pay for it.” He handed me a stack of towels and a small white box. “You should know better than that by now.”

I opened the box and saw silk panties, a pair of gray sweats, a pink T-shirt, and matching flip flops. “You’re always prepared aren’t you? How many sets of these do you—”

“I bought everything in that box just for you,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I’d planned on bringing you here after our first date at Michel Mina’s, but I believe you stood me up.”

“You’re still not over that?”

“I’m getting there. You can go change in the bedroom. Would you like a sandwich?”

“Yes...Thank you.” I walked over to the bedroom and closed the door.

This is beautiful...

The room was set up like a dream suite: The satin canopy that hung from the ceiling was swaying back and forth in the wind. The elegant bed was covered in a sea blue duvet that complemented all the white furniture.

I ran my hands across the sheets and knew that their thread count was in the thousands. I drew the drapes completely open and gasped at the breathtaking view; I could see the ocean waves lapping up over the shore, the seagulls circling around the dock above.

Sighing, I pulled the drapes closed and peeled out of my wet clothes. I bent over to pick up the stack of towels and froze—Jonathan had walked into the room.

He wasn’t wearing anything but a towel around his waist, and I was pretty sure he couldn’t see me from where he was standing.

He stepped further into the room. “I forgot to ask what type of sandwich you—” His eyes met mine.

He didn’t finish his sentence. He didn’t look like he even remembered that he was talking. He was standing there staring at my naked body, making me blush red all over.

He walked over and picked up my towels. “Face the window.”

I froze. I couldn’t function—couldn’t even breathe, when he looked at me like that.

He kissed my lips and smiled. He pulled my hair on top of my head and tucked it into a towel, planting light kisses all over my face. He took another towel and slowly brushed it over my shoulders, my breasts, and my stomach. “So beautiful...”

I gasped as he bent down in front of me and rubbed it between my legs, as he kissed the inside of my thighs and groaned.

He stood back up and looked into my eyes, sighing. “What type of sandwich do you want?”

“Turkey...”

“With cheese?”

I nodded.

“Don’t take too long getting dressed.” He kissed my forehead and left the room.

I collapsed onto the bed and shook my head in disbelief. I knew I’d be in serious trouble if I didn’t walk away from him right now. If I left this room and didn’t ask him to take me home right away, I wouldn’t be able to rein in my feelings for another minute.

He was getting to me and I couldn’t deny it anymore. I thought about him all the time. My heart did flips whenever I saw him at work, and I looked forward to hearing his sexy voice over the phone at night.

This is not how this was supposed to go...

I sat up and reached for the clothes he’d bought me. I slipped into them and smiled once I saw that they fit me perfectly. I kicked on the flip flops and headed back out into the kitchen, rehearsing a short speech in my head:

Jonathan...I need you to take me home. We can talk about why on the way, but I don’t think—

He looked up and smiled once I stepped into the room, making me lose my train of thought.

Screw it...I’ll just take the trouble...

He handed me a plate and walked me outside, to a small wooden swing that was standing on the porch. He waited for me to sit down first and placed his arm around my shoulder.

Our special silence slowly crept in on us and we ate our food without saying a word. We simply looked out at the ocean, at the calm waves that were frothing and foaming against the coast.

As soon as I set my empty plate on the ground, he pulled me into his lap and held me close.

I lay back in his arms and smiled as he kissed me—repeatedly.