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I looked down into my wife’s—Jesus fuck, did it feel good to call her that—eyes.
“Yeah, baby?” I asked.
“You were lost in your head again,” she said. “Don’t give them the satisfaction.”
So she knew me well.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I just hate them.”
She smiled and threaded her arms around my neck.
“Hey,” she teased. “How about you help me get out of this dress.”
A new interest perked up inside of me.
“Yeah?” I pulled her close.
“Yeah,” she said. “There are a lot of buttons.”
She let me go and tugged me toward the door to the room where she’d gotten dressed this morning.
When we were inside, unnoticed by the crowd, she locked the door then turned her back to me.
I started to pull the buttons free of the tiny loops.
She shivered as my knuckles brushed her bare back.
When she was fully unbuttoned, I lifted it up and over her head.
My breath caught at what she was wearing underneath… which was nothing.
I had seen her naked, of course, in the last six months. It was kind of impossible not to with how much I’d had to help—even if she did regret every second of it.
But there’d been a lot going on, and I hadn’t made love to her since the night before her accident.
Not for her lack of trying.
“Well?” she asked. “Can we have sex now?”
I chuckled softly as I pulled her deeper into my arms, my face buried in the crook of her neck as I took a deep inhale of her scent.
“Yes,” I said. “If you’re up for it.”
Her broken hip had been the hardest thing for us to navigate around.
Sure, she’d tried really hard to act like it wasn’t bothering her, but we both knew that it was.
She was a trooper, though, and powered through.
“I’ve been up to it for months,” she challenged.
Instead of starting our usual argument, I chose to lift her up into my arms and carry her to the couch.
“You’ll tell me if anything causes you pain?” I asked.
She nodded, her eyes fevered now.
“What about birth control?” I wondered.
