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All mine.
He reaches over, opens the bedside table and pulls out a condom.
My face scrunches in confusion.
Pretty sure we haven't used those in months. Why does he want to use one now?
My body involuntarily tenses beneath him, even though all my limbs feel like jelly.
Relax, Jenny.
I need to calm down.
I know, I know, he's just being responsible and smart and wise. Clearly, I'm the reckless one because I don't want to use one. I should be touched by his thoughtfulness, proud of how considerate and good he is.
Instead, I'm...confused.
I don't know.
It's weird, right?
I'm totally overreacting.
It's Kyle.
He's being mature and level-headed and rational. That’s it.
It's just, I don't want a barrier between us. I like feeling all of him. Nothing separating us. Skin-on-skin. He’s the only person who’s ever been this close to me and it feels, I don’t know, like he’s giving me every part of himself when he…comes in me...
He slides the condom on and then guides himself to my entrance, slowly inches in as he kisses my lips.
"You're always so fucking tight, Jenny," he rasps, pushes all the way into me, pulls out, thrusts back in slowly, gently. I’m trying to keep up with everything going on, but my brain is still waking up and all I think about is that something is seriously wrong.
We've only been intimate a few times since Audra ended up in the hospital. Things start progressing, headed in that direction, but then he stops it. Or he says he’s tired, like he did last night.
Oh my god.
He’s cheating on me.
That has to be it.
Why else would he put on a condom?
He’s been working late nights and comes home after I’ve already fallen asleep. He’s been unusually secretive, like the other day. He closed his laptop when I walked into his office to hand him over the invoices I had been working on.
“Jenny,” he moans, “tell me…tell me, baby.”
I know I should say something. Tell him how good he feels, how much I love him, but I can't seem to form the words. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m freaking out. All I can think about is the damn condom.
His body lowers so it's flush against mine, his chest on mine and his stomach sliding against mine, warming every part of me. From my head to my chest, all the way down to my toes.
"I love you," he tells him as his lips ghost mine. “I love you so much, Jenny.”
He loves me.
I'm being paranoid.
Everything's fine.
