“That’s sweet of you Dean, but you know we can’t do that.” She smiles. “Archie wouldn’t want to leave.”
I don’t tell her that I’d likely feel the same about them, that if they stayed with me, and if I continued growing closer to all of them, I wouldn’t want them to go either. Instead, I smile. “I understand.” I lean in to kiss her, and she stretchesup to make it work. Her lips are soft, a little salty from her tears, and so gentle against mine.
“Does Tanner know that he called? The other boys?” I know Archie doesn’t, but I don’t know if that’s because of his age and the oblivion that comes with being five, or if she omitted details on purpose.
She shakes her head. “No. I didn’t want to tell them about it, but now I’m worried he’s going to show up.”
We’ve talked about Troy, about what kind of husband he was even before he left, and all the ways in which they didn’t work. But we haven’t talked at length about things between Troy and his sons. Talking about this stuff always makes me feel unsure of how far I can push, what I’m allowed to ask, what I have access to inside her head.
She opens up, though, and it feels like we’ve built a bridge and crossed it, adding so much to what’s blossoming between us in just a single evening.
“They don’t want to see him, Rawley and Tanner. I mean, Archie doesn’t even know Troy. He’s a stranger to him. Troy never even held Archie after he was born,” she says, her voice quiet, riddled with sadness that even time cannot take away. “And Rawley and Tanner, they were older, you know? Old enough to understand things, I mean, not the complexity and nuance of a broken relationship, but they understood the bottom line—Troy chose to leave, and not just leave me, but leave them too.”
She rolls her lips together, and I use the pad of my thumb to rid her cheeks of the pain that falls from her eyes. “I didn’t tell them that, either, Dean. I didn’t need to bad-mouth him. In fact, I never have. I have never said a single bad word, because I didn’t need to.” Her eyes hold on mine, and her bottom lip trembles in a way that threatens to split my chest straight in two. “Rawley was twelve, Dean. When Troy went out and didn’t come back, Rawley came to myroom on the third night and asked if dad left for good. I told him I wasn't sure, because at that point, I didn’t really know what was going on. He’d never done that before, but in my heart… I knew.”
I continue wiping her tears, wishing I could be more helpful, but swelling with pride that she’s making me privy to this part of her story. “It wasn’t good with us for so long, that I just… I knew he wasn’t coming back.”
I nod my head. “What did Tanner say?”
She volleys her head. “I sat them down after Troy had been gone for a week and I said, I don’t think he’s coming back, how does that make you two feel?” She closes her eyes for a minute, reliving pain from their past. When they open, they’re resolute, and determined. “We talked. And I put them in therapy, 30 minutes together with a therapist, and then another hour separately with the therapist. They did that for two years. And not once have they expressed any desire to see Troy, to have him back, they’ve never said they wish he was here or that they miss him. They understood that Troy left all of us, and their precious hearts have healed and moved on, Dean. That took so much work, so much therapy, so much prayer and time.”
I can feel how her heart is beating faster now, thumping in her chest, pressed against mine. “He can’t come back and undo it all. He has no place with them or me. I don’t want to ever see him again.”
We kiss, and she slides her tongue against mine, searching for respite, for relief against the emotional storm currently clouding her heart and mind. I give myself to her, eager to make her feel good, to take her mind off of this bullshit.
Because that’s what it is.
Bullshit.
Who walks away from his beautiful goddamn wife and three incredible children?
A bullshit motherfucker, that’s who.
I flip her onto her back, and tug her shirt up, exposing her full breasts in a nude, sheer bra. Her nipples are visible, and I groan as I run my thumb over one of the stiff peaks. “I’m gonna take care of you and the boys, and not just if Troy comes back.”
She lifts her head, peering down at me with wide eyes. “I wanted to talk to you about us tonight. About how we want to label this thing happening between us, you know, for the sake of the boys.”
I let out a sigh of relief and let my forehead fall to her flat stomach. “Fuck, that’s a relief.”
She wrinkles her brow as I lift my head and look past her breasts to her glistening eyes. “Why?”
I kiss her navel, and all around it, then stretch up to seal my mouth to her nipple over her sexy little bra. She’s got the best, softest, fullest natural tits. My mouth waters as I suck at one of them. She takes my face in her hands, and lifts me to look at her. “Why is that a relief?”
I’m hesitant, but I admit the truth. “I thought maybe you were gonna call it off with me. Then on the field, after the game, you looked gray. Or green. And neither of those colors scream‘let’s make it official and celebrate’if you know what I mean,” I tell her, hooking my hand around the pliable sheer fabric of her bra. I tug it down, and suck her bare nipple into my mouth, making her spine crescent off the couch.
“I can’t… you really thought I’d be calling it off with you?” she asks, breathless from the things my mouth is making her feel.
I nod my head as I tug down the other side of her bra, exposing another swollen, perfect breast. “I did.”
She strokes her fingers through my hair, making my cock throb against my fly. “I wanted to know what you want… in the long term. How you define us… here and now.”
Stretching up, I place a soft kiss against her lips and hold her eyes with mine, my heart colliding with my sternum on repeat. “I want you to be my girl, Clara June, and I want to spend more time with you, and the boys, and I want everyone to know that you’re off limits.”
Her nostrils flare, and she pulls my head up, our lips colliding. Teeth gnash, breathing is frantic and scattered, and our tongues slide and roll together like we’re meant to be. The kiss is wild, enthralling, and just what we need to turn the evening into something better.
“It’s time to make you feel good, Mama,” I tell her, my voice all smoke and rasp as I fight the urge to stroke my hardon through my jeans. “You ready to come for me?”
She nods her head, the tip of her nose pink. “But… in my room.” She swallows hard, her voice quiet when she adds, “Take me to my bed, Coach.”
