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Yes, I had a confirmed good-ole case of the winter cold that just would not go away. I'd started sniffling and coughing almost two weeks ago after my thirtieth birthday celebration (which had consisted of just the two of us, a bottle of chocolate sauce, a container of whipped topping, my little toy box, and the kitchen island).
But there was more to my current demeanor. More that Chris didn't know about. My trip to the doctor three days ago had been two-fold: I'd wanted to check out the consistent rasp in my breathing; and I was scheduled to have my first ultrasound.
He was on his back with one arm under my neck. I was on my side facing him, and I kept sighing from his fingers casually running through my hair. He glanced at me. "You know the song, 'Mrs. Robinson,' by Simon and Garfunkel.
" His words. his touch. They didn't help this time. I was just.
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I-" "You're engaged?" I blinked at the rock on her left ring finger. Looked up at her then down again. I was happy for her. wasn't I. "That explains it," Chris mumbled behind me.
One hand fisted in my hair while the other massaged my breast, his thumb going to work on soothing my nipple. And then he was coming inside me while I had another orgasm. It was everything I'd hoped it would be and more. ONE MONTH LATER "Are you sure.
Then one day, I swung by our shared apartment over the studio before I headed to my second job. " I tried to read the emotions in his eyes, but they were dark and clouded now. Gazing somewhere off to the side of the bed. "She was with two of her guy friends in our bed.