The spray of the ocean travels almost all the way up the beach, onto the small patio at the back of my cottage.

Foam dots land on my jacket, the thick khaki material keeping me warm against the frigid dusk temperatures. I loved winter on the island, but I was ready for summer. The summer months here were more magical than any place on earth … not that I’d been many other places but I would still stand by that bet.

I’d been here for a couple of days now, trying to clear my head and put feelers out about work. Luckily, a lot of my old foremen had disregarded the bullshit Toxell had spread about me after I quit. It also helped that Imogen had started the rumor about his business going under. And really, it hadn’t been so much of a rumor. Sure, he had the financial backing, but a lot of what she’d said about timelines and customer dissatisfaction was true.

So the work part was coming along, I’d join a crew next week who were building a house out in Tom Nevers. The hard part was waiting.

Waiting, and waiting, and … waiting. For Imogen to call or reach out. To see what she’d say about my plea to stay together, to love in the face of everything that had happened to us. I know she needs time, but I also can’t wait, stranded like this, forever. I either want my wife back, or I want to lick my wounds and get on with my heartbreak.

No more purgatory.

The sun begins to set over the waves, and I inhale the salt on the breeze. It smells like snow, that intangible scent the air holds whenever we’re in for a massive Nor’easter. Maybe it’ll come and shoveling myself out of the forest will be a welcome distraction.

Crashing waves make for noisy business, which is why I don’t hear Imogen’s cab coming down the drive. It’s why I don’t realize she’s ringing the doorbell or slamming her fist on the solid oak door.

I don’t know she’s on Nantucket until she’s huffing into the backyard, standing pretty much in front of me.

“Wha … ?” I can’t even get the whole word out, I’m so surprised.

She looks crazed … gorgeous and flowing, but so hectic that her cheeks are flushed and her hair is blowing every which way in the wind.

“I made a mistake. I made so many mistakes. You are my family, Theo. You and our baby … that is my life. I’m so sorry—”

Her voice catches on a sob and in an instant, she’s in my arms. I’m kissing her cheeks, her tears, rubbing them away with a callused thumb and whispering to her.

“I know, I’m sorry, too … I love you. I will never let you go again. You’re my forever.” Each word is a balm to my soul as much as I hope it is to hers.

Imogen pulls back, swatting furiously at her cheeks to clear the tears. “You’re my life. You’re the only one, Theo, you have to know. I want to be a family, to raise our daughter. I’m done with society and my family and the company—”

“Shh, you don’t have to explain.” I kiss her gently.

But she pulls back again. “No, I need to. My mind, my way of thinking, it was so backward. I was trying to please the Weston’s because I’d been working my whole life to gain their respect. Yet, you’d given me yours in less than an hour of meeting me. And you’ve always valued me and my opinion and my work. We fell in love because we were meant to, because you stood as steady as a rock in the middle of the ocean when it came to our relationship. You were always there. No matter how hard things were, no matter how much I doubted myself. You loved me because I was me, not because I was a Weston. And I love you for all the things the people I grew up with are not. You’re kind and honest, you value hard work over status. You love deeply and would rather have two great friends than a hundred acquaintances. You’re an amazing husband, and you’re going to be one hell of a father. I love you, Theo. I am more in love with you now than I was the day I met you. At first sight, and always.”

My wife grabs my face and smashes her lips to mine, the words she just spoke lighting up from the inside and warming the organ in my chest that I thought might just be extinguished.

“You said hell.” I grin through our kisses, shocked that she cursed.

“I feel that passionate about you.” Imogen breathes, our lips just resting on each other’s, our eyes connecting.

“I love you.” I say it to her again, because it’s been too long since I’ve been able to say it freely.

We used to tell each other “I love you” at least thirty times a day. Holding that in for the past six months or so has been one of the hardest parts of our separation, because it’s almost instinct now to say it the moment I see my wife.

“Show me.”

She doesn’t have to tell me twice.

Taking her hand, I walk us briskly toward the house to get her out of the cold.

“Your nose is pink,” I say as soon as we enter the living room through the back door.

I kiss the tip, feeling the effect the cold wind put there. Outside, the waves crash along our shore, the one where we fell in love, as I undress Imogen. First her coat, and then her scarf, throwing them out of sight without a thought to where they’ll land.

She’s doing the same to me, inching her icy fingers closer and closer to my bare skin, the heat igniting between us. It’s a heady feeling, this passion doused in the chill from outside. Almost like the feeling of being a kid and running in the snow, sweat slicking your body beneath the layers. Adrenaline pumps through me, and although I want to savor the feeling of my wife choosing to be with me, I need her so badly I’m shaking like a junkie.

“Ah!” Imogen jumps as my rough hands skim her sweater up and over her head.

I take my hands away, knowing how cold they must be. “Sorry, let me warm up.”

But she’s already taking my mouth, talking between kisses. “Don’t care.”

We walk as we shred the last pieces of clothing from each other’s bodies, our tongues growing frantic as they stroke one another. My hands find her breasts, molding and exploring the heavy set of them. They’ve grown as our child has, and I’m panting to get her nipples in my mouth.

The steep stairs of the cottage are somewhat tricky, because we can’t seem to keep our hands off each other but need to make it to the end goal: the bedroom.

My cock is so hard that I could saw wood with it, and I know by the flush of Imogen’s chest that when I put my fingers between her legs, she’ll be slick with arousal.

Finally, we make it to the bedroom, and I gently lay her down.

“My God …” I say it like a curse.

Imogen’s bare body is presented in front of me like she’s my last supper. If she was the only thing I could eat before I died … I’d die a happy man right now. Her breasts are swollen and round, dotted with dark pink nipples that are larger than normal. I wanted to cover them with my tongue and wondered if they had a new taste.

Her cornflower hair is strewn about the comforter, owning the sheets and marking them as her own. I stroke myself, moving my eyes intensely down her body, worshipping it like it deserves to be. Her belly is round and smooth, and the fact that I’d put that child in her was sending jolts of electricity to the head of my cock. I wanted to shoot my seed into her again and again.

And then I get to her pussy. She’s spread for me, her mouth dropping open in lust, and I have to bite back the growl in my throat when I focus in on the little patch of blond curls above her perfect pink slit.

I wanted to climb on top of her and fuck her like a wild animal … but I knew I couldn’t do that.

Navigating this was going to be trickier than usual. Normally, I was able to position my wife anywhere I wanted her. She loved being handled, thrown around a bit. Of course, it was always done with love, but we could get rougher than most. It was so fucking hot to say that about my wife, who everyone else thought was such a good, buttoned-up girl. I knew otherwise.

But with the baby, I was handling her with kid gloves, even when I was just kissing her. There was no way I could drill into her from behind while she stood gripping the support beam in the living room. Or balanced on top of the kitchen table, like the one time …

My balls were aching I was so turned on, and I knew I needed to be inside of her quickly.

“Lie down on your side, and spread your knees, as if we were spooning.”

Imogen obeys, putting her perky ass on display for me. I groan, my cock feeling heavy as I nestle in behind her, my rigidness fitting perfectly into the curve of her cheeks. I gently pushed a knee in between her spreads legs, positioning one hand under her neck and the other draped over her ribcage until I found the bud of her nipple. I plucked it, sending a sharp gasp out of Imogen’s mouth.

As much as I wanted to flip her over and bury my tongue in her pussy, there would be time for foreplay later. We were both so ready, you could cut the sexual energy with a knife.

Imogen’s hand curled around mine where I cupped her breast. “Please, Theo …”

Her moan had me dangerously close to coming, and I wasn’t even inside her yet. “Spread yourself for me.”

I felt the shiver that ran down her back at my dirty request, but she did as she was told. Lifting her leg, she uses her fingers to push herself wider. I cant my hips, feeling her warm, wet entrance. Reaching down, Imogen grips my shaft and pushes my head inside her.

“Fuck.” The curse echoes off my lips as I flex my hips, pushing impossibly deeper into my wife.

“Theo …” Imogen’s hand fists in the sheet in front of her as her head droops forward.

Taking my hand from where it was rolling her nipple, I grab her hip and thrust all the way in, sending a cry out from both of our mouths.

And from there, it’s all grinding and sweat and pleas and sensation. Imogen pushes back on me as much as I ram into her. My fingers will probably leave bruises on her hip, but we are so lost in the insanity of chasing the climax that I can barely breath.

Imogen tilts her head back, seeking my lips. I give them to her, scorching her mouth as I thrust my tongue in time with my cock.

“I love you,” she breathes.

Then she’s mewling into my throat, her pussy convulsing around me as the orgasm wracks her body in spasms.

My voice is a broken tone. “I love you.”

I bury my face in her neck, the silk of her skin the last thing that touches my lips before I spill into her, losing all control.