I remember the six of us had spent the entire day and night moving us into our new place.
Pharis and I were the first to own a house, and we were stoked to have a party pad.
Sure, it wasn’t much because we were just starting out, but it was ours.
As the years went on, both of us made enough to upgrade but neither wanted to.
We loved our little house in the city. It had everything we needed.
A kitchen and a bed.
For us, it was home.
The last two days had been crazy busy.
Between packing my shit, packing her shit, and arguing with her landlord to hold off on showings until we left, we were spent. But I wasn’t bitching because our friends had shown up today with booze, pizza, and a shit ton of extra boxes for the rest of her shoes. Thanks to her girls, she had more shoes than any sane woman needed.
It was like old times and until the group was together being loud and foul, I hadn’t realized how much I missed it.
These people were my family, my heart.
Being without my wife was misery, but not having her crazy girls around blew too.
Yet, here we were, burying grudges, building trust, and moving forward.
Together.
Exhausted, neither of us were thrilled when Griff had thrown an impromptu happy hour at us demanding our attendance. When actually it was her Detroit crew that wanted to do something special for her. Walking into Grand Trunk Pub, I immediately took her hand so I wouldn’t lose her.
Not that it was possible. But this place was always wall to wall people, and we weren’t here five minutes when I swore someone grabbed my ass.
Though, it was worth it to see Pharis passed around to be hugged, kissed, thanked, and congratulated.
Which got me thinking that had I not pursued Pharis when I did, I wouldn’t be a part of this and the thought was troubling. Stowing the what ifs, I focused on the present.
Pharis was mine again, forever this time.
Despite the immense amount of people, watching everything my woman worked for come to fruition was... unforgettable.
So was hearing her co-worker’s wife say to mine, “Look at you, so thin! You look fantastic. Maybe I need the divorce diet.”
But the real treat was her response. “Cory, hi,” Pharis offered her best fake smile. “I’m terrific, thanks for asking. Girl, you don’t need the divorce diet.”
“Aww, I don’t?”
See, Pharis got on well with Mike. Thought he was a stand-up guy. However, Pharis couldn’t stand his woman, and I’m pretty sure no one else could either. Poor Mike.
“No. What you need is to gain a personality and ditch the gag reflex.”
Cue in my heroic rescue. Seriously, I lived for this shit.
“It’s late, superstar,” I said, tagging her waist and kissing her neck.
“Eddie,” Cory said, reeking of booze. “You look...bigger. Divorce looks good on you.”
“You know what else looks good on me?”
“What’s that?”
“My wife’s pussy. On my face.”
“Bye, Cory!” Pharis blurted, pulling me through the crowd, out the door, and straight to her car.
Laughing maniacally, she had to put her head between her legs to breathe. Of course, my mind went to all sorts of interesting places, but I still found the strength to ask, “How long have you been waiting to shut that bitch up?”
Wiping her eyes, she smiled, “Ten long years.”
On the ride home, she explained she was done being polite to assholes because protocol demanded it. Not only did I agree with her I was relieved.
Pharis was always doing what others believed was the right thing. Seeing her buck the system a bit was hot.
Later that night, we were lying in bed, tangled in each other when I asked, “Did you really sleep in my clothes?”
Rolling up to her elbows, I witnessed a blush spread across her high cheekbones as she whispered, “I didn’t handle losing you very well.”
Not sure what to say, I was caught off-guard when she asked, “Did the women really look like me?”
“Let me guess, Griff?”
“Yes.”
“The thought of something happening to you,” I said honestly. “I didn’t handle it well either.”
“I can’t imagine how you felt, Eddie. I’m just sorry I wasn’t strong enough to help you carry the weight.”
“You think that’s why I didn’t tell you?”
“Wasn't it?”
Thumbing her hair, I explained, “I wanted to be the hero, Pharis. I thought I could catch him, save you, and win you right back. I thought wrong.”
With her hand on my chest, she whispered, “You’ve always been my hero.”
“Not when I broke your heart,” I pointed out. “I was the villain.”
Offering me a soft smile she said, “You were, Eddie. Even then.”
“I still see the hurt in your eyes, baby. Hurt I put there.”
“No,” she said vehemently. “The hurt you see is for us. For what he took from us. This hurt isn’t because of you. It’s for you. I wasn’t there to ease your suffering, and I want to kill him for it. Kill him for the hurt I see in your eyes.”
Reaching for the lamp, I cut the light and pulled her close so she wouldn’t notice my tears.
But the darkness didn’t last long. Because she turned on her lamp and straddled me. “Do you think this is Casanova?”
I didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
“Okay then, fuck him,” she said. “This time, we fight.”
“Superstar—” I tried.
“Are you going to leave me again?”
“No!” I growled, gripping her hips.
“Then like I said, we fight. Or rather, you fight and I cheer you on. Seriously, Facebook knows we’re together. Our friends and co-workers know. Miami isn’t the other side of the world, it’s a plane ride. So, if this muff fucker wants a fight we fight.”
God, this woman was everything. “You said muff fucker.”
“I’m working on it. Damn. Did you not hear my speech?”
Pulling her close, I kissed her hard and promised her, “I’m going to end this.”
“Mmm,” she whispered against my lips. “But first, I’m riding you.”
Slapping her ass, I said, “Giddy-up,” and tucked my hands behind my head.