Jess woke up Sunday morning nestled against Tom’s frame. His arm lay heavy across her waist and his fingers splayed over her flat stomach where their potential child might already be growing. She lay still, cherishing the rare quiet. There were no buzzing text messages or calendar reminders, just birds chirping outside and the sound of Tom’s deep breathing behind her.

When she shifted her hips to find a more comfortable position, she felt it, the unmistakable bump of Tom’s morning wood pressing against her ass. A wicked smile curved her lips. Sunday mornings usually meant pancakes drizzled in maple syrup but today she craved a different breakfast.

Moving carefully to avoid waking him, Jess gently pushed Tom onto his back. She then hooked her fingers into the waistband of his boxers and tugged them down just enough to free his cock.

She then positioned herself between his thighs wearing nothing but the tiny black lace panties she’d put on last night. She stretched out on her elbows and stomach, feet crossed at the ankles and swaying playfully in the air. This was her domain, where she wielded absolute power with her lips and tongue and skill. Her hand wrapped around his cock, holding him steady as she leaned forward.

Starting at the seam just above his balls, she dragged her tongue up his entire length in one wet stroke. When she reached the tip, her tongue swirled around the ridge, collecting the first beads of precum. The familiar taste of him, salt and musk and something uniquely Tom, made her moan around him as she took him fully into her mouth.

Tom’s fingers found her silky hair before his eyes fully opened. “Fuck, Jess,” he groaned as Jess hollowed her cheeks and applied suction. “Keep doing that thing with your tongue…”

Jess happily obeyed, rubbing her tongue against his frenulum, the ultra-sensitive spot that often had him twitching and bucking his hips. She worked it with the flat of her tongue before taking him deeper, not stopping until her nose nestled in the coarse hair at his base. Through her lashes, she watched how his jaw clenched and brow furrowed, the vein in his temple pulsing.

“Holy fuck,” he gasped as his fingers tightened in her hair.

She released him with a pop and offered a smile as her lips glistened with saliva. “Good morning, handsome,” she purred. Her tongue darted out to catch more precum leaking from his tip before eagerly swallowed him again.

Jess’ technique was flawless, refined through years of exploration and a natural talent for reading her partner’s responses. She alternated between sucking and slurping, varying pressure and speed with the expertise of a virtuoso. One hand cradled his balls while the other stroked his shaft in counterpoint to her bobbing head, creating pleasure that had his toes curling.

Tom watched Jess closely. The wet, obscene sounds of her mouth mixed with his ragged breathing filled their bedroom. His mind drifted, not to the sensation, but to the mystery that had always nagged at him: where had she learned to suck cock like this?

He’d never directly asked but he’d always wondered about the lucky bastards who’d helped her develop these skills. His mind drifted to what she’d told him about her past lovers.

Michael, her high school sweetheart, couldn’t have taught her this. Jess had described their innocent explorations, how they’d fumbled through sex together, neither really knowing what they were doing.

Then there was Nate, her first serious college boyfriend, the fitness freak who’d shaped Jess’s body consciousness. She’d kept the sexual details wrapped in vague descriptions. An “active sex life” was all she’d offered before adding the Valentine’s Day gut-punch of finding him balls-deep in another woman.

Then finally Marco, the basketball player, the “brief rebound” she’d mentioned with dismissive casualness. Tom’s gut told him there was more meat on those bones, stories untold, nights unaccounted for.

He imagined a younger Jess, still finding herself, still learning the tricks of her trade. He imagined her on her knees before some faceless man, being coached through suppressing her gag reflex, discovering the pressure of tongue, mastering the vacuum seal of lips that now transported him to another dimension.

His imagination went to the possibility of hidden experiences, of unnamed men and secret encounters that contributed to her expertise. Instead of jealousy, these thoughts only fueled his arousal.

Though he’d never admit it, part of him hated how easily she took his entire length, going balls deep without any strain. He fantasized about being thick enough to stretch those lips wide, long enough to make her gag and make her eyes water when she tried to swallow him whole.

He remembered last night, how Bob’s massive cock flashed in his mind while she went down on him. The same thoughts continued to occupy his mind. How would she handle something that size? Would she struggle?

“Fuck, princess…” The word escaped before he could catch it.

Jess’s throat tightened around him briefly before she pulled back, releasing his cock from her mouth.

“You said that yesterday too, and you don’t usually call me that,” she observed, her tone casual but eyes sharp.

“Just felt right. Uh… you don’t like it?”

“No, I do,” she said thoughtfully, her hand still stroking him. “It’s just… different.” She punctuated her words by swallowing him again in one smooth motion.

“Oh fuck, babe…”

Jess could feel him getting close from the way his breathing changed and the way his balls tightened in her hand. She doubled her efforts, bobbing her head faster while maintaining suction.

“Gonna cum,” Tom warned. “So fucking close.”

When his orgasm hit, it was with an intensity that had him arching off the mattress. Jess took everything he offered, swallowing eagerly as her hands milked his shaft and massaged his balls. Only when she was certain she’d extracted every drop did she release him with a final, loving kiss to his sensitive tip.

“Jesus,” Tom panted, collapsing back against the pillows. “What brought that on?”

Jess slithered up his body and settled against his chest, her cheek pressed to his racing heart. “Just wanted to show my husband how much I appreciate him,” she murmured “And maybe remind him what he’s got waiting at home after work.”

As their breathing steadied, Jess lazily traced the faint scar on Tom’s shoulder, a remnant from a college intramural football injury. “I can’t believe how amazing this weekend’s been,” she mused. “If we keep this up, I might need a wheelchair. My legs feel like jelly.”

Tom’s arms tightened around her. “Sorry if I was too rough,” he said softly. “I just couldn’t help myself.”

“Don’t apologize,” she said smiling, trailing her fingers down his chest. “I loved every second of it. Just… maybe we take it a little easier for the next few days?” Her hand moved to her stomach. “Especially since we might have started something life changing last night.”

Tom’s hand covered hers, their fingers intertwining. “Any regrets? About not using protection?”

“No,” Jess replied after a thoughtful pause. “I mean, we’ve been talking about starting a family. Maybe this is the universe telling us it’s time.” She bit her lip. “What about you? Second thoughts?”

“None,” Tom assured her.

The tender moment shattered as Bob’s power tools roared to life below them. Jess tensed. “He’s certainly… enthusiastic about home improvement.”

Tom scowled at the ceiling. “Probably rebuilding the entire fucking kitchen.”

“Speaking of Bob,” Jess propped herself up to look at Tom. “Those photos you two took yesterday… I looked professional, right? Not… too much?” Her voice carried a hint of uncertainty, as if seeking reassurance while simultaneously aware of how provocative the images had been.

Tom remembered exactly how revealing the wet fabric had been. If she only knew what Bob had done with those photos… “You looked incredible,” he said instead. “Like a Victoria’s Secret model… but better.”

“You’re hopelessly biased,” she laughed, playfully swatting his chest. “But thank you. It felt good, actually. Reminded me of my modeling days. But I probably shouldn’t have let things get quite so… provocative. Bob probably thinks we’re crazy.”

“I’m sure he was impressed,” he managed, the understatement of the year given what he’d witnessed.

“We should probably get up,” Jess murmured. “I want to get groceries done before it gets packed. We should probably hit the shower first.”

“You’re right. Shower sounds good.” He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Want company?”

Jess smiled as she moved. “Always,” she replied, stretching as she stood. “But just washing,” she added with a playful but firm tone. “I’m not kidding about being sore.”

—

An hour after breakfast, Tom pushed their cart through Whole Foods following a few steps behind Jess, watching the sway of her hypnotic hips as she prowled the aisles. The heat had forced a practical wardrobe choice, a light-yellow sundress that danced around her thighs with each step and showcased her toned shoulders and the slope of her collarbone. She had her blonde hair pulled back in a careless bun that somehow made her more appealing than if she’d spent an hour styling it.

A pair of young moms pushing a stroller did a double take as Jess passed, their envious glances on her seemingly endless legs. Their matching athleisure outfits and fresh blowouts suddenly seemed inadequate next to Jess’ natural radiance. Their synchronized head turn to watch her pass would have been comical if it wasn’t so predictable.

Looking at his wife, a wave of gratitude washed over him. With her looks and charm, she could have easily chosen an easier path, any life she wanted. There were plenty of wealthy men who would have kept her dripping in luxury, pampered in penthouses with endless credit cards and daily spa treatments. Tech billionaires, hedge fund managers, and real estate moguls would have fought for the chance to shower her with diamonds and designer everything. She could have been sunbathing on some Mediterranean yacht right now instead of doing grocery runs in suburban Austin.

Or she could have capitalized on her looks in other ways. With her face and body, she could easily have been an Instagram influencer or OnlyFans model, raking in more monthly subscriber money than his annual salary.

Instead, she chose this life with him. She chose early morning alarms, client meetings, grocery shopping on the weekends, and building something together from the ground up. She chose love over luxury, partnership over pampering. Even after his cryptocurrency disaster, she stayed, working alongside him to rebuild their savings. The thought filled Tom with equal parts guilt and gratitude. He loved her to death.

Jess paused at the organic produce aisle, her manicured fingers hovering over a rainbow of bell peppers. “We need three for the stir fry,” she mused. Her brow furrowed as she began inspecting each vegetable, testing for firmness, checking for blemishes.

“What do you think, babe?” Jess turned to Tom holding up two nearly identical specimens.

“Whatever makes you happy,” he replied, earning that eye roll he secretly loved.

“You could at least pretend to care about what we eat,” she teased, bagging the peppers.

“Oh, I care,” he replied, stepping close to kiss her temple. “I care about how sexy you look when you’re being all domestic.”

“Such a shameless flatterer,” she accused, smiling. “We need to hit the seafood counter before the lunch crowd.”

They hadn’t made it halfway there before some poor bastard pushing a stroller nearly took out an entire display of garbanzo beans, his neck craning like a cartoon character as Jess passed. Tom couldn’t blame him. He remembered that feeling of first seeing Jess across a crowded room six years ago.

At the seafood counter, Jess’s presence commanded immediate attention. “Wild-caught Alaskan, please. No…” Her nose wrinkled at the offered fillet. “The deeper pink one there. Yes, that one. Thank you.”

As they moved around the store, their cart filled steadily with organic food, grass fed this, and free range that. The snack aisle brought their playful conflict to the surface.

“Will this pass inspection?” Tom asked, placing jalapeño chips in their cart with feigned ignorance.

“Tom, no. Absolutely not.” Jess plucked the jalapeño chips from their cart. “We’ve been over this. These have MSG and artificial coloring. They’re basically poison in a bag.”

“Delicious poison. Exactly why they’re perfect for crunch time.” Tom countered, already well aware he wasn’t winning this.

Jess held up two options like a prosecutor with damning evidence. “Organic corn chips or quinoa puffs. Choose.”

“They taste like cardboard.”

“Then I’ll make guac to dip them in. Extra garlic, just how you like.”

Tom’s resistance crumbled like always. This was their dance, her health crusades softened by acts of service. He grabbed the corn chips. “You fight dirty.”

“Only because I love you,” she replied, rising on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

Near checkout, Jess paused at a display of dark chocolate. Her fingers hovered over a bar with orange infusion, his favorite. Without comment, she added it to their haul. The gesture struck him. Other men saw the trophy wife, a former model with a gorgeous face and a body to die for. To Tom her beauty was the least interesting thing about her.

Their items told the story of their different approaches to food. Jess’s selections were all organic, with minimal ingredients. Tom’s contributions consisted mainly of snacks and prepared foods that made her roll her eyes affectionately.

“One of these days,” she said, arranging their items on the belt, “I’ll get you to care about what you put in your body.”

“You care enough for both of us,” he replied, wrapping an arm around her waist.

As they were loading the paper bags into the trunk, Tom caught another shopper openly staring at his wife. The man quickly looked away when Tom met his gaze but the appreciation in his eyes had been unmistakable.

The drive home was quiet and comfortable in the way only long-term couples know. Jess hummed softly to whatever was playing on the Tesla’s sound system while Tom’s mind wandered to the parade of admirers they’d encountered. It was always like this with her. She rarely ever tried to be alluring. That was the maddening part. It was effortless. Wherever they went, eyes followed Jess.

It used to drive him crazy, that constant male attention. Back in their early days, every bar and night club felt like a battlefield. Men would materialize from everywhere, armed with cheesy pickup lines and overpriced drinks. “Haven’t we met before?” “What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?” The words didn’t matter. Their hands did, always testing boundaries, finding reasons to brush her arm, to touch the small of her back, to settle on her hips. Some would even try to squeeze between them on the dance floor as if Tom was just some inconvenient obstacle rather than her boyfriend.

But now, four years into marriage, he found himself imagining scenarios that would have made his younger self throw punches. What if Jess didn’t deflect advances? What if she let a man buy her a drink? What if, just once, she let a man leave his hand on her waist?

The fantasies grew bolder each time he revisited them. He could see it clearly: some nameless man, good-looking but not too good-looking, confident in that easy way that Tom had never mastered. The stranger’s hands would find Jess’s waist in a crowded club, and instead of moving away, she would stay.

Tom would be across the room, watching. Not intervening, just observing as those hands drifted lower, cupping the perfect ass that Tom believed belonged only to him. His mouth would go dry. His heart would hammer against his ribcage like it wanted out.

His cock, the traitor that it was, stirred at the thought, hardening against his zipper as the fantasy unfurled further in his mind. What if she turned in the stranger’s arms? What if she pressed herself against him, breast to chest? What if her lips parted, and the stranger lowered his head, and they…

“I think working from home Tuesday and Thursday makes sense,” Jess’s voice cut through his thoughts. “The office gets chaotic. Hard to focus with all the noise.”

Tom shifted in his seat, willing his erection to subside. “Yeah, good idea,” he managed. “I’ve got meetings most of the week anyway.”

They pulled into their driveway to find Bob working on his truck, the hood up and tools spread across a neat workspace he’d created. He wore a grease-stained white tank top that revealed thick forearms.

“Afternoon,” Bob called out as they parked, wiping his hands on a shop rag. His eyes moved naturally to Jess as she emerged from the car, though his attention appeared casual. “Good timing. Was planning to look at your unit today, if that works.”

“That would be great,” Jess replied, smoothing her dress. “Just need to get the groceries inside first.”

“Take your time,” Bob rumbled. “Got about twenty minutes left here anyway.”

Tom watched Bob’s eyes follow Jess as she grabbed bags from the trunk. The older man’s gaze was subtle but unmistakable, and Tom felt that familiar confusing mix of jealousy and arousal surge through him once again.

—

Inside their kitchen, Jess turned to Tom. “Babe… I can’t stop thinking about Bob…” She bit her lower lip, a nervous habit she’d never quite outgrown. The same concern had nagged at her since waking up, the one she’d mentioned as they lay tangled in sheets after her morning performance. “Do you think he feels weird… I mean with the photos and everything?”

“He seems fine,” Tom replied. “Why? Are you worried about it?”

“A little,” Jess admitted, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. “Maybe we should ask him to delete them?”

Tom’s pulse quickened. “Do you want me to ask him?”

Jess considered for a moment, then shook her head. “No,” she decided. “On second thought, let’s just forget about it. Bringing it up would probably make it more awkward.”

“If you’re sure,” Tom said, relieved.

“I’m sure,” Jess nodded. “Let’s just focus on getting these groceries put away.”

After putting away the groceries, Jess settled onto one of the leather barstools at the kitchen island. Her fingers danced across her iPad’s screen as she scrolled through design photos. Tom leaned against the granite countertop watching her face light up.

“Oh, look at this backsplash!” Jess exclaimed, tilting the iPad towards Tom. “Wouldn’t that tile pattern look amazing behind the stove? It would completely transform the whole kitchen!”

Tom peered at the mosaic of vibrant blues and whites forming intricate geometric shapes. “It’s beautiful,” he agreed. “But babe, we need to be realistic here. Bob’s coming to fix things, not give us a makeover.”

Jess sighed, her shoulders sagging slightly as she set the iPad down, her earlier enthusiasm deflating. “I know, I know. It’s just… when I see all these beautiful renovations, I can’t help but dream a little. Remember when we first bought this place? We had so many plans.”

Tom rounded the island, wrapping his arms around Jess from behind. He rested his chin on her shoulder and breathed in her floral scented shampoo. “And that’s exactly why I hide the sledgehammer,” he teased, pressing a light kiss to her neck. “Come on, let’s make a realistic list before Bob gets here.”

Jess nodded, straightening her spine, slipping into what Tom affectionately called her ‘interior designer mode’, focused, professional, and authoritative in a way that aroused him slightly. Her fingers, tipped with pink polish, began counting off points. “Okay, let’s see. One: the leaky shower faucet in the master bath. It’s driving me absolutely insane. Two: That squeaky floorboard right by-”

“Our bed,” Tom finished, grinning. “But I kind of like the warning system when you try to sneak out of bed for your midnight snacks.”

Jess gasped, snatching up a nearby dish towel and swinging it at him. “I do not!”

Tom dodged, laughing. “I’ve seen the empty Ben & Jerry’s in the trash, babe. You’re not as stealthy as you think.”

“Fine,” Jess conceded with a laugh. “But that’s not why we need it fixed. It’s just… annoying.”

“Sure, sure,” Tom said. “What’s number three?”

“Three: Some of the cabinets won’t stay shut properly. And four: replacing the kitchen and bathroom faucets.”

Tom nodded. “Good list. Maybe we should just ask for his general recommendations too? He might spot things we’ve missed.”

“Definitely,” Jess agreed. “He seems to have a good eye for these things.”

Tom glanced around their kitchen, taking in the few dirty dishes in the sink and the pile of mail on the counter. “Now, speaking of Bob…”

Jess’s gaze followed his, understanding blooming in her expression. “Right. We should probably clean up a bit. Especially the bedroom and bathroom.”

They shared a look, both aware of the more intimate items that needed to be tucked away before inviting their tenant into their private spaces.

“I’ll handle the dishes,” Tom offered. “You take the rooms?”

Jess nodded, sliding off the barstool, already moving. “Deal.”

They parted ways, each tackling their assigned space, and then reconvened in the living room.

“All clear on my end,” Tom reported.

“Same here,” Jess confirmed, smoothing down her sundress. “I think we’re as ready as we’ll ever be.”

As if on cue, the doorbell chimed.

“Here we go,” Tom murmured, moving towards the front door with Jess close behind.

He opened the door to reveal Bob standing on their porch, notebook and pen in hand.

“Ready to get started?”

“Absolutely,” Jess replied, her voice warm and welcoming despite the flutter of nerves in her stomach. She gestured toward their home’s interior, suddenly very aware of inviting this strange man into their private space. “Please, come in.”

The wooden stairs creaked beneath their feet as they led Bob up to their private sanctuary. When they entered the kitchen, Jess’s eyes moved to the wedding picture displayed on their fridge, capturing the moment they fed each other cake, both laughing hard. She felt vulnerable seeing Bob’s eyes pass over it, this glimpse into one of their most precious memories.

It was odd and profoundly intimate having a virtual stranger in their space, allowing them to see these little pieces of their life that were reserved for close friends and family. Their kitchen was where they danced while cooking dinner, where Tom made her with coffee in the mornings, where they’d had sex just a couple nights ago. Now this sanctuary was being invaded, examined, categorized.

Just as he had with the downstairs unit, Bob immediately started his methodical inspection. He tested every hinge, every drawer’s slide, and opened every cabinet door. He crouched down to examine the plumbing under the sink, checked the caulking, and inspected the faucet connections. He seemed to miss nothing and occasionally jotted down notes in neat handwriting.

“Good bones,” he muttered. “But definitely room for improvement.”

As Bob continued, Jess smoothed out nonexistent wrinkles and fidgeted with the hem of her sundress. The previous day’s photo shoot remained in her mind, making her hyperaware of his presence in their space.

Tom stood slightly behind Jess, his hand resting on the small of her back. He found himself studying Bob’s face for any hint of recognition, any suggestion that he was thinking about those provocative pool photos, but Bob’s expression remained neutral. His eyes remained focused on the task at hand, his comments purely technical.

When Bob asked for their specific concerns, Jess stepped forward eagerly. “Well, first there’s the leaky shower faucet in our master bath.”

“Probably just needs new washers,” Bob muttered, making another note. “What else?”

“There’s this squeaky floorboard right by our bed,” Jess continued. “And like you’ve noticed, some of the kitchen cabinets won’t stay shut properly.”

“And the faucets,” Tom added. “Both kitchen and bathroom could use updating.”

Bob nodded. “All good catches. Simple fixes.” He ran his fingers along one of the cabinet doors. “These just need their hinges adjusted and maybe some new hardware. As for the faucets…” He turned on the kitchen tap, listening intently. “Yeah, definitely time for an upgrade there.”

“We know it’s a lot,” Jess said quickly. “We don’t expect everything at once-”

Bob waved off her concern. “Tell you what, I’ve got plenty of time on my hands these days. Labor’s free.”

“Oh… no, we couldn’t-” Jess protested.

“I insist,” Bob cut in. “Keep me from going stir crazy. Plus, I’ve got connections with suppliers. Can probably get you 80, maybe 90 percent off retail.”

“Ninety percent?” Jess repeated, shocked to hear those words.

“Sometimes more,” Bob confirmed, clearly enjoying her reaction. “Depends on the item and supplier, but I know where to find the deals.” He flipped to a new page in his notepad. “Let’s talk about what you’d really like to do here. Not just fixes. Improvements.”

Jess’s professional composure crumbled as possibilities flooded her mind. Her words came out faster and her gestures became more animated. “Well, I’ve been thinking about updating the backsplash, and maybe adding some under-cabinet lighting. Oh! And there’s this beautiful sink I saw that would completely transform the space…”

Tom watched as Jess described her vision, her obvious passion animating her features. Bob listened attentively, making notes and asking clarifying questions. That revealed genuine understanding of design principles.

“All doable,” Bob assured her. “And with my connections, probably for less than you’d pay for just the basic repairs.”

“This is… incredible,” Jess breathed, looking around the kitchen with new eyes. Every surface now held possibility rather than limitation.

“Let’s check out those other issues?” asked Bob.

In the guest bathroom, Bob identified several minor issues they hadn’t even noticed.

Approaching their bedroom, Jess hesitated slightly before opening the door. Bob maintained a careful distance as they moved through the spaces, but the master closet’s narrow confines forced them closer together. Jess pressed herself against the doorframe as Bob made his inspections.

Bob quickly found the squeaky floorboard himself. “Easy fix,” he declared, crouching to examine it more closely. “But we might need to pull up a section of flooring to do it right.”

In the master bathroom, Jess unconsciously crossed her arms over her chest as Bob leaned into their shower, his broad frame filling the glass enclosure where she’d been naked just hours ago. Tom’s hand found her back again, his touch protective and possessive.

Bob examined the faucet, tested water pressure, and took more notes, his expression revealing nothing of his thoughts.

“Well,” Bob said finally, closing his notepad. “Think I’ve seen everything. I’ll draw up a proper list, price out materials. We can tackle these projects one at a time, do it right.”

“Thank you so much,” Jess gushed. “This is more than we could have ever hoped for.”

At the front door, Bob paused. “I’ll get you that list by tomorrow evening,” he said, his voice carrying a natural authority Tom was starting to recognize. “Might be able to start on some of the smaller fixes by mid-week.”

“No rush,” Tom replied. “We really appreciate this.”

Bob nodded, stepping outside into the afternoon sun. “Happy to help,” he said simply before heading toward his unit.

After Bob left, Jess turned to Tom. “Can you believe it? With those discounts, we’ll be able to do some real upgrades!”

“It’s definitely an opportunity,” he said carefully. “But maybe we should start small, see how it goes?”

“Of course,” Jess agreed readily. “We’ll be smart about it. But Tom, do you know what contractors charge hourly these days? And those material discounts! This will save us thousands!”

Jess practically danced around, already envisioning improvements. Tom wanted to share her excitement, but he felt uneasy. Bob’s generosity was too perfect, too convenient. The sensation nagged at him like a splinter just beneath skin.

“We’re so lucky he moved in,” Jess continued. “I mean, what are the chances we’d get a tenant who’s not only a skilled contractor but willing to help us like this?”

“Pretty lucky,” Tom agreed, forcing a smile. He pulled her close. “But let’s not get carried away, okay?”

Jess nodded. “Of course.” She stretched upward, pressing her lips to his cheek.

—

Back in the kitchen, Tom and Jess fell into their culinary dance. Tom handled the chicken while Jess chopped the vegetables. The tap-tap-tap of her knife against the cutting board mixed with the sizzle of chicken hitting the hot pan. Steam rose, carrying the scent of garlic and herbs.

“Remember when we couldn’t find the pots?” Jess asked, sweeping diced vegetables into a bowl.

Tom flipped a chicken breast, checking for the golden-brown sear. “Now look at us,” he said. “All grown up and meal prepping.”

“Grown-ups who had sex like teenagers all weekend,” Jess teased, playfully bumping him with her hip.

Their hands kept finding each other as they worked. Fingers brushed while passing seasonings, shoulders pressed together reaching for spoons. Each contact was brief but electric.

Tom carefully weighted the rice, vegetables, and chicken before placing them into the waiting glass containers while Jess snapped the lids shut.

“Done!” Jess declared, snapping the final lid into place. “Now we just need to clean up and get ready for tonight.”

Tom pulled her close. “Or we could leave the cleanup for later…”

“Don’t you dare,” she laughed, pushing him away with open palms. “I need time to get ready properly. This is a celebration, remember?”

They moved through the cleanup routine, loading the dishwasher, wiping counters, storing containers in the fridge.

“I’m going to make myself beautiful,” Jess announced, heading for the bedroom.

“You already are,” Tom called after her.

The kitchen felt different once she left. It was quieter, emptier somehow. It felt like she took some of the light with her. Tom finished wiping down the counters, his mind already racing ahead to dinner, to the week ahead, to all the changes Bob’s arrival had sparked.

He made his way to his office, knowing he needed to clear some work before they went out. His fingers flew across his laptop keyboard, racing against time to handle the flood of urgent emails. Every few minutes, his mind would drift to Jess preparing for their celebration dinner. The thought of her getting ready, of smooth skin being revealed and covered again made focusing on work nearly impossible.

In their bathroom, Jess stood wrapped in a plush towel, studying her reflection in the mirror. Her skin glowed from her thorough beauty routine. The ritual grounded her even as excitement fluttered in her stomach. This wasn’t just dinner, this was a celebration of everything falling into place.

She opened the frosted glass door at the back of the closet, revealing her carefully curated lingerie collection, and selected a matching set in pale pink, the one Tom always said was “so fucking irresistible”. The lace barely covered anything, which was exactly the point. The bra pushed her breasts up and together while the tiny thong disappeared between her cheeks. Looking at herself in the mirror, she smiled. Tom wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off her later.

A burgundy dress slid over her body, hugging her tight while maintaining an air of sophistication. The neckline showed just enough cleavage to be enticing, and the hemline hit mid-thigh, perfect for both the restaurant and whatever would come after.

When she finally appeared from the bedroom, she found Tom already dressed in his tailored charcoal suit, the one she always said made him look like he belonged on a GQ cover. Their eyes met across the room.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathed. “You look incredible.”

Jess did a slow turn, giving him the full effect. “You clean up pretty nice yourself, handsome.”

The drive to the restaurant was charged with sexual tension. Tom’s hand found her thigh, his fingers tracing patterns on her skin just below the hem of her dress.

“We might not make it to dinner,” she warned.

“Would that be so terrible?” His fingers inched higher.

“Behave yourself,” she laughed, crossing her legs to trap his wandering hand. “We’re celebrating, remember?”

The valet’s eyes widened when Jess stepped out of Tom’s Lexus, her dress riding up to reveal a dangerous flash of toned thigh. The boy couldn’t have been older than twenty, and he fumbled with the keys as he handed Tom the claim ticket, his eyes on Jess a heartbeat too long.

Tom’s hand rested possessively at the small of Jess’s back as they followed the maître d’ through the dining room. She felt eyes on her as they’d entered, but she was used to that kind of attention, had been since puberty hit and transformed her from awkward teen to head-turning beauty.

The restaurant oozed with elegance. Crystal chandeliers cast intimate pools of light across white tablecloths. The silverware gleamed, the wine glasses sparkled, and classical music played softly in the background.

Tom pulled out her chair, his fingertips brushing the nape of her neck as she sat. The touch sent a current down her spine, a private reminder of last night.

“Good evening.” Their waiter materialized beside them, dressed in crisp black and white, with perfect posture. “My name is David, and I’ll be taking care of you tonight. May I start you with something from the bar?”

Tom ordered a glass of wine, but Jess hesitated. “Just sparkling water with lime for now, please.”

Tom’s eyebrow rose slightly at her choice. They shared a look loaded with possibility. Could she already be pregnant?

“So,” Tom began once David had left with their drink orders. “Tell me more about the Skyline presentation. I want to hear everything.”

Jess leaned forward, describing the presentation. “God, you should have seen Chris Webb’s face when we showed him the renderings. His jaw practically hit the floor. And Margaret… she looked ready to burst with pride. You know how she never shows emotion? She actually smiled, Tom. Twice.”

“I wish I could have been there,” Tom said softly. “But this Meridian implementation is kicking my ass.”

“Hey.” Jess reached across the table to squeeze his hand. “You’re going to nail it. Senior Consultant is practically yours already.”

Tom turned her hand over, his thumb tracing slow circles on her palm. “The travel, though. Week-long trips sometimes. I don’t want to leave you alone that much.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Jess assured him with easy confidence. “Besides, maybe by then we’ll have something else to keep me busy.” Her free hand drifted to her flat stomach.

Their eyes met across the candlelight, both remembering Friday night’s passion. Their weekend had been a rediscovery of each other, proof that their connection was stronger than ever.

David returned with their drinks, the stem of Tom’s wine glass pinched precisely between his fingers. “Tonight, Chef has prepared a magnificent Dover sole,” he began. “It’s served with a lemon beurre blanc and seasonal vegetables harvested from local farms this morning.” Jess found herself only half listening, distracted by Tom’s foot finding hers under the table.

“That sounds perfect,” Jess said, not bothering to open her menu.

“Make that two,” Tom added, his eyes never leaving his wife’s face.

Once David left, their conversation turned to more personal matters. “Mom called earlier,” she said. “She’s asking when we’re coming to visit. I think we should tell them about… you know?”

“The maybe-baby?” Tom’s voice dropped lower. “Your mom will have the nursery designed before we hang up…. you don’t think it’s too soon?”

“Maybe,” Jess admitted. “But I’m excited.”

Their fingers remained intertwined on the table as the conversation shifted, touching on Jess’s sister’s new boyfriend and Bob’s surprising offer to help with home renovations.

“Oh, and Hannah called earlier,” Jess said. “Apparently the new boyfriend drives a Porsche and has some tech startup that’s about to revolutionize something or other.”

Tom chuckled. “Your sister does have a type. What happened to the accountant?”

“Dumped him last month.” Jess rolled her eyes with affectionate exasperation. “Something about him being too safe and boring. She’s twenty-two. Everything seems boring to her. But Mom says this new guy, Trevor, seems different. More mature.”

“Let me guess, he’s at least thirty-five?”

“Thirty-six,” Jess confirmed with a alight shake of her head. “Han swears the age gap doesn’t matter, that he understands her in ways guys her age can’t.”

“Classic,” Tom chuckled. “But fourteen years is really pushing it. Your dad must be thrilled.”

“Oh, he’s furious,” Jess laughed. “But you know Han, telling her not to do something just makes her want it more.”

Their entrees arrived, perfectly plated and steaming. David arranged their dishes while describing each component. The Dover sole glistened under the intimate lighting, but Tom barely noticed the food. His attention remained fixed on Jess, on the way candlelight played across her features, on how her tongue darted out to wet her lips.

“Everything looks wonderful,” Jess told David. “Thank you.”

Once they were alone again, Tom leaned forward. “Have I told you how absolutely stunning you look tonight?”

“Only about twenty times,” Jess laughed. “But I don’t mind hearing it again.”

They fell into comfortable silence as they enjoyed their meals, exchanging glances between bites. Tom’s foot continued its teasing journey up her calf while Jess retaliated by letting soft little moans escape as she savored particularly delicious bites.

“That’s not fair,” Tom chuckled quietly after a particularly breathy sound of appreciation.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Jess replied innocently.

Their conversation drifted to the upcoming work party on Friday. “You’ll actually make it this time?” Jess asked. “No last-minute emergencies?”

“Promise,” Tom assured her.

As they finished their entrees, David appeared to clear their plates. “Can I interest you in our dessert menu?”

Tom and Jess shared a look. “Just the check, please,” Tom replied.

While they waited for the check, Jess excused herself to the ladies’ room. Tom watched her walk away, noting how other diners’ eyes followed her progress across the restaurant. Men’s gazes lingered on the sway of her hips while women studied her with that blend of admiration and resentment reserved for beautiful women who made it look effortless.

When Jess returned, there was something different about her, a slight flush coloring her cheeks, a secretive smile playing at the corners of her mouth. She slid back into her seat and under cover of the tablecloth, pressed something into his palm. The delicate fabric was still warm from her body, still carrying her scent.

Tom’s brain short-circuited as he realized what he was holding. Her thong. Lacy, tiny, and unmistakably just removed.

“A preview of home,” she whispered.

Tom nearly choked on his remaining wine. “Jesus, Jess…”

Tom’s fingers clenched around it, his cock hardening instantly knowing that she was sitting across from him completely bare beneath her dress, in the middle of one of Austin’s most upscale restaurants, surrounded by other diners who had no idea of the delicious secret they shared. He discreetly slipped the thong into his suit pocket, though his hand kept returning to touch it.

David returned with the leather check presenter, placing it by Tom. “I hope everything was to your satisfaction this evening,” he said.

“It was perfect,” Tom managed. He barely registered the total as he slipped his credit card inside, his mind consumed by the lacy evidence in his pocket and the knowledge of what waited beneath Jess’s dress.

The woman across from him looked so composed yet was anything but. Jess sipped her sparkling water, the picture of innocence, save for the wicked glint in her eyes. Her tongue darted out to capture a droplet from her lip, the simple gesture transformed into something obscene by the context of what she’d just done.

The drive home was torture. Jess’s dress had ridden up, revealing bare thigh that Tom couldn’t stop staring at whenever they hit red lights. His hand found her leg again, sliding higher until he encountered flesh where lace should have been.

“Fuck,” he groaned when his fingers found her slick.

“Eyes on the road, baby,” Jess teased. “Almost home.”

Tom hardly remembered to put the car in park before yanking the keys from the ignition. They stumbled up the walkway together, Jess’s laughter bright in the night air as Tom fumbled with the front door key.

They barely made it through their front door before Tom had Jess pressed against the wall, his mouth devouring hers with desperate hunger. His hands roamed her body, squeezing her ass beneath her hiked-up dress. Her arms snaked around his neck as she pulled herself up, wrapping those long legs around his waist.

“At least take me upstairs,” Jess laughed breathlessly against his mouth, though the way her body arched against his suggested she wouldn’t actually mind being taken right there in the entryway.

Tom gripped her thighs as he carried her up the stairs. Her dress had bunched around her waist, leaving her completely exposed from the waist down, a fact that registered in Tom’s brain as the hottest thing he’d ever seen.

Once inside their bedroom, he kicked their bedroom door shut behind them, the sound echoing through the quiet house. Jess’s breathless laugh turned into a startled gasp as he tossed her onto their king-sized bed. She bounced once, her hair fanning out across the pillows.

Tom stood at the foot of the bed, loosening his tie with one hand while the other reached into his pocket to withdraw her thong. It still carried a hint of her scent that made his mouth water.

“You,” he said, dangling the scrap of lace between them, “are going to be the death of me.”

Jess smiled up at him. She shifted her position, slowly spreading her thighs. She watched his eyes track the movement. “But what a way to go,” she purred.

Tom tossed the thong aside and reached for the hem of her dress. The silk rubbed against her skin, creating a sensory trail that made goosebumps rise as he slowly pulled it upwards. When he reached her breasts, Jess arched her back, silently begging him to continue. He complied, sliding the dress higher until it bunched beneath her arms.

“Lift up,” he instructed.

Jess raised her arms above her head and Tom dragged the dress over it. When her face emerged, her hair was tousled, her cheeks flushed, her eyes heavy.

Tom tossed the dress aside without a second glance, letting it fall forgotten to the floor. His gaze raked over her body, drinking in the sight of her sprawled across their bed wearing nothing but the pale pink lace bra.

“Gorgeous,” he breathed. “Absolutely fucking gorgeous.”

Jess reached for his belt. “Your turn. Too many clothes.”

Tom caught her wrists with one swift movement, pinning them above her head with one hand. His other hand traced the lace edge of her bra. “I’ve been thinking about this all night,” he confessed.

His mouth found her neck, trailing hot kisses down to her collarbone. When he reached her breasts, he released her wrists to unhook her bra. The lace fell away, revealing hardened nipples begging for attention.

“Baby,” Jess whimpered as his mouth closed around one peak. Her fingers gripped his hair, holding him against her as he teased and sucked. Her back arched off the bed, pressing more of herself into his hungry mouth.

“Tom,” she gasped. “I need you so bad, baby…”

Their hands collided as they both reached for his remaining clothing, fumbling with buttons and zippers. His suit jacket hit the floor, followed by his dress shirt. Jess’s fingers traced the lean muscles of his chest, appreciating how his regular running had kept him fit. His pants, boxers, and socks were the last to go, kicked off the bed to join the growing pile of discarded clothing on the floor.

Tom sat back against the headboard, his cock standing proudly, the tip already glistening with pre-cum. He reached for Jess, pulling her into his lap so she straddled him. Cowgirl was one of their favorite positions because it allowed them to kiss deeply while maintaining full body contact. It let her control the depth and pace while still allowing him to thrust upward.

Their mouths met in a passionate kiss. Tom’s hands roamed her back, tracing her spine, cupping her ass, pulling her closer, her hardened nipples rubbing against him.

Tom’s hand slid between their bodies and found her core, fingers sliding through her slickness. “Already so wet for me,” he groaned against her mouth, two fingers circling her entrance.

“Yeah,” she admitted, rolling her hips against his hand, trying to guide his fingers where she needed them most. “Couldn’t stop thinking about this… about you… about your cock filling me up…”

“Lay back,” Tom commanded softly, his hands already guiding her movement. “Let me taste you.”

Jess fell back against the pillows, spreading her legs in invitation. Her hands reached down to part her folds, giving him an unobstructed view. Tom settled between her thighs, his shoulders creating space for himself as he pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses to her inner thighs. His breath ghosted over her, making her shiver with anticipation.

The first broad stroke of his tongue had her gasping, hips bucking up instinctively to increase the contact. Just as she knew exactly how to suck his cock, he knew precisely how to eat her pussy. Years of intimate knowledge guided his movements as his tongue licked a path between her folds before circling her swollen clit. His hands gripped her thighs, holding her open for his feast.

“Right there,” she moaned when he hit a particularly sensitive spot, her fingers tangling in his hair to hold him in place. “Don’t stop…”

Tom doubled his efforts, alternating between broad strokes of his tongue and focused attention on her clit. When he slid two fingers inside her, curling them upward to find that sensitive spot, Jess’s thighs began to tremble uncontrollably on either side of his head.

“Oh god,” she gasped, her internal muscles clenching around his fingers. “Tom… I’m gonna…”

Her words dissolved into a sharp cry of pleasure as orgasm crashed through her. Tom didn’t let up, working her through each pulse of pleasure until she was gasping and oversensitive, her hands now pushing weakly at his shoulders.

When he finally pulled back, his chin glistening with evidence of her pleasure, Jess grabbed his shoulders and pulled him up for a deep kiss. She could taste herself on his tongue, the flavor making her moan into his mouth.

“Need you inside me,” she begged between kisses, her hands reaching between them to find his hardness. She stroked him firmly, feeling him pulse in her grip. “Please…”

Tom aligned himself at her entrance, the broad head of his cock sliding against the folds of her pussy, coating himself in her arousal. Her thighs trembled with anticipation as she felt him positioning himself. “Ready for me?” he asked, though he knew the answer.

“Yes,” she breathed, tilting her hips to make his entry easier. “Fill me up, baby…”

Tom entered her with agonizing slowness, savoring the sensation of her body yielding to his. He watched her face contort with pleasure as he filled her inch by inch, her inner walls stretching to accommodate his thickness, gripping him. When he finally bottomed out, their pelvic bones pressed together, they both groaned at the sensation of being fully joined.

“Fuck,” Tom breathed, his forehead pressed against hers, their breaths mingling in the small space between them. “You feel so fucking good. So tight. So perfect.”

Jess’s legs wrapped around his waist, her ankles locking behind his back, pulling him even deeper inside her. Her heels dug into the muscles of his ass, urging him to move. Their mouths met in a desperate kiss, tongues mimicking the intimate joining of their bodies as Tom began thrusting.

Jess raked her nails down his back. “Harder,” she begged, her voice breaking on the word. “Need to feel you… all of you…”

Tom’s hips snapped forward with renewed urgency, the sound of skin meeting skin filling their bedroom. The headboard thumped rhythmically against the wall with each thrust, but neither of them thought about whether Bob might hear from the apartment below. In this moment, nothing existed outside of their joining.

“Yes,” Jess cried out. “Just like that… don’t stop… right there…”

Her inner walls began to flutter around him as another orgasm approached. Tom could feel his own release building, pressure gathering. He was so close. The sight of Jess writhing beneath him, taking everything he had to give, pushed him rapidly toward the edge.

“Gonna cum,” he warned, his rhythm becoming erratic as control slipped away. “Want to fill you up…”

“Please,” Jess moaned, her hips rising to meet each thrust, her inner muscles clamping down on him. “Want to feel you cum inside me… want to feel you pump me full…”

Her words pushed Tom over the edge. With a final thrust, he buried himself completely inside her and exploded just as Jess’s own orgasm hit, her pussy greedily milking him for every drop.

They stayed joined as the aftershocks subsided. Neither wanted to break their connection just yet, to return to the world outside their bed. But finally, Tom rolled to his side, bringing Jess with him so they remained face to face. She curled into his chest, their legs still tangled together, his softening cock still nestled inside her. His cum leaked from her well-fucked pussy when he finally slipped out, marking their sheets with the evidence of their passion.

The knowledge that he’d now pumped two loads inside her unprotected womb within 24 hours sent electricity through his spent body. After years of responsible birth control, they’d thrown caution to the wind twice in two days. The reckless abandon of it all only heightened the intimacy of the moment.

“I love you,” he murmured, pressing his lips to her forehead. “So fucking much.”

“Love you too,” she replied softly. “Always have, always will.”

“Two loads,” he murmured. “Definitely improving our chances.”

“It feels right,” she whispered.

They exchanged gentle kisses as their heartbeats gradually returned to normal. Then sleep began to claim them. Before drifting off completely, Tom pulled the sheets over them, covering them in warmth.

—

The next morning, Tom sat at his desk buried in the Meridian implementation that seemed to grow more complex by the hour. His monitor glowed with endless spreadsheets, transforming what had once seemed like a promising opportunity into a demanding beast that consumed every available moment. His coffee had gone cold hours ago, forgotten between urgent emails and crisis calls.

A notification pinged. Another fire to extinguish. Another reason to miss dinner. Another brick in the wall between his professional ambitions and his marriage.

His eyes drifted to the framed photo on his desk of Jess from their anniversary dinner last year. Her head was thrown back in laughter, blonde hair over bare shoulders, the kind of candid moment that made people tun and look. Miles had commented on it. “Man, your wife gets hotter every time I see her. You sure won the lottery there, buddy.”

Tom had smiled and said nothing. The old him would have bristled, changed the subject, maybe even turned the photo away. The new him just nodded, letting the compliment sink in like a drug, riding the strange high of another man’s desire for what was his.

His phone buzzed with a text from Jess: “Missing you already. Can’t stop thinking about last night.”

The memory flooded back, making him shift in his ergonomic chair. He adjusted himself beneath his desk, paranoid someone might walk by and catch him with a hard-on like some teenage intern.

“Miss you too,” he typed back. “But I need to focus.”

“I understand. Just know I’m thinking about you. Have a productive day!”

He set the phone face-down, trying to redirect his attention to the crisis at hand. His inbox showed thirty-seven unread emails.

An hour later, his phone vibrated.

“Had the most productive morning. Just finished the Skyline mock-ups. Margaret loved them. Heading to lunch meeting with potential client. Will send pics of the food to make you jealous of my expense account.”

He smiled. “Show-off. I’m stuck with vending machine pretzels.”

“Poor baby. I’ll feed you properly tonight.”

The innuendo wasn’t lost on him.

The afternoon crawled by slowly. Crisis calls came one after another. Email chains multiplied like cancer cells. Beneath it all pulsed the persistent throb of arousal whenever his mind wandered to the weekend’s events. Every time he closed his eyes, he heard Jess’ desperate moans from their passionate nights. He saw her lips wrapped around Bob’s massive cock in fantasies he couldn’t control.

During a lull between calls, Tom found himself opening Instagram on his phone, muscle memory taking him to Jess’s account. It was private now. She’d locked it down shortly after they started dating, deleting the provocative modeling shots that used to pull hundreds of desperate comments and DMs. Tom sometimes wondered if she missed that attention, that power.

He imagined her account public again, visible to the world. He imagined the avalanche of notifications, the fire emojis, the thirsty messages from strangers detailing exactly what they’d do to his wife given half a chance.

His phone lit up again: “Heading to yoga now! Don’t work too late. I’m making that chicken you love.”

Tom glanced at the time: 3:00 PM. His afternoon calendar still showed three more meetings and dozens of unread emails. There was no way he’d be leaving on time.

“Can’t wait to see you,” he typed back.

He set his phone down and rubbed his eyes, trying to focus on the spreadsheet in front of him. But his mind refused to cooperate, drifting instead to Jess in her yoga class. She’d be wearing those skintight leggings that seemed painted on. She’d be bending and stretching, her perfect ass in the air, her breasts straining against her sports bra as she moved through poses. Other men in the class would be watching, inevitably. Perhaps one of them would approach her after class, compliment her form, suggest they grab a smoothie…

Tom shook his head. What the fuck was wrong with him? His beautiful, talented wife was excelling at her career, maintaining her health, and planning to cook him dinner, and here he sat spinning sexual fantasies about her with strangers.

At 4:30, his phone buzzed again.

“Just finished yoga. SO sweaty. Instructor was brutal today. This new guy, Derek, doesn’t believe in child’s pose apparently. My thighs are screaming. Heading home now to shower and start dinner.”

Tom’s fingers hovered over the keyboard. “New guy? What happened to Amber?”

“On maternity leave. Derek’s just filling in. He’s good though. Really pushes everyone.”

Tom’s mind immediately constructed an image of this Derek: tall, lean, probably sporting a man-bun and tribal tattoos. Probably mid-thirties with perfect abs and a tantric sex certification. Probably watched Jess the entire class, offered hands-on “adjustments” to her poses.

“Is he cute?” Tom typed, then immediately deleted it. What the fuck was he doing? Instead, he wrote: “Looking forward to dinner. Should be home by 7.”

Eventually, the clock showed 6 PM. One more hour, he promised himself. Just one more hour to get ahead of tomorrow’s demands. He lost himself in logistics workflows and implementation schedules, time slipping through his fingers until his phone vibrated against the desk. It was an actual call this time.

“Hey handsome,” Jess’s voice carried a familiar note of disappointment beneath the warmth. “Still at the office?”

“Just wrapping up,” he lied, looking at his endless to-do list. “Give me an hour?”

Jess’s sigh was soft but pointed, years of similar conversations compressed into a single exhale. “Dinner will be in the fridge then. I miss you.”

“Miss you too,” he replied.

Finally, at 7:30 PM, he admitted defeat. The work would still be there tomorrow, multiplying in the dark. He packed his briefcase and rode the elevator down past floors of other corporate warriors fighting their own battles.

Their house glowed warmly as he pulled into the driveway where Jess’ Tesla and Bob’s truck sat in their designated spaces. Tom grabbed his briefcase, feeling the weight of responsibility and neglect, and headed inside to whatever remained of his evening with Jess.

The scent hit him first: garlic, rosemary, lemon, her signature roast chicken that always made their house feel like an actual home. Tom found Jess in the kitchen, plating his dinner. The sight of her like this, casual in yoga pants and one of his old college t-shirts, her blonde hair piled messily atop her head, made his heart ache.

“Hey stranger,” she said, turning to face him. Her smile was genuine despite everything. “I was starting to think you’d forgotten where we live.”

Guilt surged through him. “I’m sorry,” he replied, setting his briefcase down. “The Meridian implementation is-”

“I know, I know.” She cut him off, crossing the space to press a gentle kiss to his lips. “Your dinner’s ready. Go shower first. You’ll feel better.”

The hot water provided temporary relief for muscles knotted from hunching over keyboards and smartphones. But his mind refused the same cleansing, drifting instead to reckless creampies and potential pregnancy.

The doorbell’s unexpected chime cut through the house just as Tom finished dressing. He glanced at his watch. 8:15 PM, not exactly neighborly calling hours. A flicker of irritation passed through him as he descended the stairs.

Bob stood in their entryway, renovation plans clutched in his hand.

“Evening,” Bob rumbled, nodding toward Tom when he opened the door. “Got that list worked up. Thought we could go over it while it’s fresh.”

“Come on up,” Tom offered, stepping aside to let the older man pass.

Bob’s heavy footsteps followed Tom up the stairs. In the kitchen, Jess was bent over the dishwasher, yoga pants leaving exactly nothing to the imagination. The top rode up just enough to show a strip of tanned skin above her waistband.

She straightened when they entered, and Tom watched Bob’s eyes track the movement, though his expression remained professionally neutral.

“Didn’t mean to interrupt your evening,” Bob said.

“Not at all,” Jess replied, her voice carrying that warmth she reserved for people she wanted to impress. “Can I get you something to drink? Water? Beer?”

“Water’s fine,” Bob answered, settling onto one of the barstools, spreading his papers across the granite countertop. The pages were filled with neat handwriting, diagrams sketched with unexpected artistry, and columns of numbers that promised salvation for their home improvement dreams.

“Broken down by priority and cost savings,” he explained, thick index finger trailing down the columns. “Starting with that shower faucet that’s been driving you crazy.”

Jess handed Bob a glass of ice water before leaning in to study the plans. Tom watched how her blonde hair fell forward, how she tucked it behind her ear.

For the next half hour, Bob laid out his renovation strategy. Every suggestion was backed by decades of hands-on experience, every cost reduction explained through references to “connections” that seemed to materialize from thin air.

“Got a guy in South Austin. Imports direct from Italy. Owes me for fixing a mess another contractor left him with.” Bob’s expression remained neutral, but something in his tone suggested these weren’t simple business relationships but debts of honor, obligations that ran deeper than money.

“That would be amazing,” Jess breathed. Her eyes had taken on that gleam Tom recognized from when she was working on her design projects, the look of a creative mind seeing possibilities unfold. But something twisted in Tom’s gut watching her enthusiasm, a confusing mix of gratitude for Bob’s help but also discomfort at how easily the older man had captured her attention, how naturally he’d inserted himself into their home. Had it only been three days since Bob moved in?

“Question is,” Bob continued, leaning back slightly, “how you want to handle access? Some of these jobs take time. Might need to be here when you’re not.”

“Weekends,” Tom said, perhaps too quickly. The thought of Bob moving through their home while they were at work made him uncomfortable. “We’ll start there.”

Bob nodded, gathering his papers with those thick fingers. “Your call. Just means a longer timeline.” He checked his watch. “Getting late. Should let you folks get some rest.”

As they walked Bob to the door, he paused at the entrance to the garage. His head tilted slightly. “Your garage door’s making some noise. Heard it earlier today. Mind if I take a look while I’m here?”

Without waiting for an answer, Bob moved toward the garage door with that confident stride of a man who’d never been told no. Tom and Jess exchanged glances before following him.

Ten minutes later, the door raised and lowered in near silence, the previous grinding and squeaking having vanished like they’d never existed. Bob’s hands were streaked with grease as he wiped them on a shop rag he’d pulled from his back pocket.

“There you go,” he announced. “Should last another few years now.”

The ease with which he fixed things that had frustrated Tom for months was both impressive and somehow emasculating. It was a reminder of practical competence that corporate success couldn’t replace.

“You’re amazing,” Jess exclaimed, genuine appreciation lighting her features. “How much do we owe you?”

Bob waved off her question. “Good landlords and tenants look out for each other.”

After Bob left, Tom finally sat down to the dinner Jess had kept warm. He devoured the roast chicken, his body catching up to the fact that he’d barely eaten all day. Jess watched him from across the island, sipping her water, pleased to see him enjoy her cooking despite the late hour.

“This is incredible,” he managed between bites. “Sorry I missed it fresh.”

“At least you’re eating it,” she replied.

When his plate was clean, Tom retreated to his laptop at the dining table while Jess curled up on the couch to watch the latest episode of her favorite show.

Jess tried to focus on her show, but her mind kept drifting. The weekend had been passionate, connected, almost like their early days together. They’d rediscovered each other, remembered what had drawn them together in the first place.

Yet here they were, Monday night, and the magic was already fading. Tom buried in work, her watching TV alone, the distance between them growing with each passing hour. The status quo reasserted itself.

When her eyes grew heavy, she moved to where Tom sat, still typing, and pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

“Don’t stay up too late,” she murmured.

He caught her hand, squeezed it briefly. “Just need to finish this section. I’ll be done soon.”

They both knew it was likely a lie.

In bed, Jess stared at the ceiling, listening to the faint sounds of Tom working. She drifted off to sleep alone, wondering how something that had felt so promising could slip away so quickly.

—

The next morning, Jess settled into her home office chair, bare feet tucked beneath her as she opened her laptop. The silk robe she wore was pure indulgence, but working from home had its perks.

Her phone buzzed with a text from Tom: “Missing my sexy wife. These meetings are torture.”

She smiled, fingers dancing across the screen: “Poor baby. Focus on work, Mr. Marshall. I’ll reward you properly when you get home.”

“Promise?”

“If you’re home at a decent hour this time.”

She hesitated, then softened. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too.”

From downstairs came the muffled sound of Bob working on something. The knowledge of his presence below added an odd tension to her morning routine. She found herself moving more quietly, hyperaware of every sound she made, every creak of the floorboards beneath her feet.

Her laptop chimed with a new email from Chris Webb about the Skyline project. She forced her mind back to work, pulling up the design files she’d been refining. The penthouse layouts demanded her full attention, each detail crucial for their wealthy clients.

The morning slipped away in CAD files and client emails. Around noon, restlessness crept in. After a quick lunch, she abandoned her desk for the balcony, seeking fresh air. The Texas sun beat down mercilessly, but the slight breeze made it bearable.

The sight below stopped her. Bob was in the backyard, his tank top dark with sweat as he worked on their ancient sprinkler system.

“Afternoon,” Bob called up, noticing her presence. “Sprinklers needed attention. Previous owners let them go too long.”

“We didn’t even know they were broken,” Jess admitted, leaning against the railing.

“Most folks don’t, till it’s too late.” Bob straightened, wiping sweat from his brow. “While I’m at it, thinking about that kitchen backsplash. Got some samples coming Thursday. Natural stone, high-end stuff.”

“That’s… wow, thank you.” The renovation plans thrilled and unsettled her simultaneously. “You really don’t have to do all this.”

“Like keeping busy,” Bob shrugged. “Besides, this place deserves proper care.”

The afternoon crawled until mercifully, she finally justified ending work early. She slipped into a white sundress and heeled boots, then checked the mirror. The woman staring back seemed different somehow, more alive. Maybe it was the weekend’s passion or maybe it was the possibility of new life growing inside her.

“Going shopping with Madi,” she texted Tom.

Tom’s message appeared quickly: “Sounds good. You’re amazing. Love you.”

“Love you too, workaholic. Don’t stay too late.”

—

Madi stood outside their favorite boutique, wearing a black dress that probably cost more than most people’s monthly rent, her energy crackling like electricity. The moment she spotted Jess, her face lit up with that smile that promised juicy conversation.

“There she is!” Madi pulled Jess into a tight hug. Pulling back, she studied Jess’ face with the intensity of someone who’d known her through breakups, makeups, and everything in between. Madi’s eyes narrowed. “You’re practically glowing!”

Inside, surrounded by racks of designer clothes, the interrogation began. “Okay, spill everything.” Madi demanded. “And I mean everything. You’ve been holding out on me.”

“Let me try these on first,” Jess deflected, gathering an armful of dresses. “It was… an interesting weekend.”

In the fitting room, Jess stripped down to her underwear while Madi settled into the plush waiting chair outside. “So remember how I told you things had gotten pretty bad?” Jess asked through the curtain. “Tom was always working late and we barely touched each other? Well, everything changed this weekend.”

Jess emerged from behind the curtain in a tight navy-blue dress. “God, you were so right about sending those pictures. Tom couldn’t keep his hands off me. We didn’t even make it to the bedroom.”

“Now we’re getting somewhere,” Madi leaned forward, elbows on knees. “Details. All of them.”

“Well,” Jess disappeared behind the curtain again, her voice carrying a mix of embarrassment and pride, “let’s just say the kitchen counter will never be the same.”

“That good, huh?” Madi handed another dress over. “Is that all?”

Jess slipped into the purple dress, adjusting it. “Remember our new tenant moved in Saturday? Bob?”

“Yeah. The older guy? The divorced contractor?” Madi’s voice carried equal parts intrigue and concern.

“That’s him.” Jess turned to examine herself in the mirror. “We were all hanging out by the pool on Saturday… and Tom suggested taking photos of me. Things got… interesting.”

As Jess detailed the photoshoot, Madi’s expression shifted from surprise to intrigue. The dress was nice but Madi was already reaching for another hanger.

“Holy shit,” Madi breathed. “That’s hot. Like, actually hot. How’d that make you feel?”

Back behind the curtain, Jess wiggled into a black dress. “Terrified? Confused? Excited?”

“And then what happened?”

Jess came out and looked at the mirror. “Bob made us dinner. These amazing steaks. And…”

“And?” Madi practically vibrated with anticipation.

“Tom couldn’t keep his hands off me.” Jess blushed at the memory. “And… we didn’t use protection.”

“Jessica fucking Marshall!” Madi’s shriek earned them curious looks from nearby shoppers. She lowered her voice. “You mean you might be…”

“Maybe? It’s too soon to tell. But we did it again the next day. No protection again.” Jess disappeared behind the curtain again. “It felt right, you know? Like everything aligned.”

“This is huge!”

“Oh my god, wait until you hear about dinner,” Jess gushed. “Sunday night we went to Vincenzo’s. I wore that pale pink lingerie set Tom gave me for our anniversary. The really expensive La Perla one? But after we finished, while we were waiting for the check… I… God, this is so unlike me…”

“What did you do?” Madi leaned forward eagerly.

“I took my panties off in the bathroom,” Jess confessed in a rush. “Then I put them in Tom’s hand under the table.”

“You didn’t!” Madi’s delighted laugh filled the fitting room. “Jessica Marshall, you absolute minx! What did he do?”

“Nearly choked on his wine,” Jess giggled. “You should have seen his face. I’ve never seen him want to leave somewhere so fast.”

“I bet! Please tell me you fucked in the car…”

“No! We actually made it home. But barely. The whole drive, his hand kept sliding up my thigh… the dress didn’t stay on very long once we got inside.”

“Details! I need details!”

Jess bit her lip, remembering. “Hmm… let’s just say the headboard might need reinforcing.”

Madi’s smile was wicked. “Sounds like someone’s marriage just got a serious spark rekindled.”

“God, Madi, he was so different. More… primal? The way he looked at me, touched me… it’s like he couldn’t get enough.” Jess’s smile faltered slightly. “Of course, then yesterday he came home late again. After all that connection over the weekend, he still got stuck at work.”

“Typical,” Madi rolled her eyes. “Men always revert to form.”

“It’s not entirely his fault,” Jess sighed. “This project is huge for his career.”

“Wait, back up.” Madi said, changing the subject. “Tom got turned on from Bob watching you pose?”

“Not just that. Remember how I told you about Brandon at the gym?”

“My Brandon? Mr. nine inches of pure pleasure Brandon?”

“Madi!” Jess laughed. “Yes, that Brandon. When I told Tom about him flirting with me… let’s just say it had an effect.”

Their laughter filled the fitting room, the kind of joy only possible between friends who’d seen each other through everything.

“He’s discovering his kinky side,” Madi grinned. “And Bob? How does he act around you now?”

“Professional. Like nothing happened.” Jess stepped out in a crimson dress. “This one?”

“Stunning,” Madi declared. “But back to Bob. Does he make you uncomfortable?”

“No,” Jess admitted, studying her reflection. “He’s just… intense. He’s already fixing things around the house. He’s planning all these renovations, offering amazing discounts through his ‘connections’…”

“How convenient,” Madi observed.

Their conversation paused as Jess spotted it, an emerald green dress that seemed to glow under the boutique’s lighting.

“Oh my god,” Madi breathed. “That’s the one. That’s absolutely the one.”

Jess slipped the dress over her head. When she emerged, Madi’s sharp intake of breath confirmed what the mirror showed. The dress was perfect.

“Tom won’t know what hit him,” Madi declared. “And speaking of hitting… turn around.” She whistled when Jess complied. “Girl, your ass looks incredible.”

Jess studied her reflection. The dress made her feel powerful, sexy, like the model she used to be. “You don’t think it’s too much?”

“There’s no such thing as too much when you look like that,” Madi insisted. “Besides, with everything you told me about this weekend…”

The price tag made Jess wince, but as she changed back into her clothes, she knew she’d regret leaving without it. Some dresses weren’t just clothes, they were weapons of mass distraction.

At the register, Madi grinned. “I can’t wait to hear about Tom’s face when he sees you in that. Hell, I can’t wait to hear about everyone’s faces at the party.”

They moved to the café next door, shopping bag in hand, settling into a quiet corner. “Oh god, I almost forgot to tell you about Sunday morning,” Jess whispered, leaning forward. She described how she’d woken Tom, her voice dropping even lower. “I just couldn’t resist him lying there all vulnerable…”

“Damn girl!” Madi grinned. “Look who’s embracing her inner vixen!” She wrapped her hands around her cappuccino. “Okay, let me get this straight,” she began. “First you send your workaholic husband some naughty office pictures that get him so worked up he fucks you senseless. Then Mr. nice inches himself eye fucks you at the gym, you tell hubby about it, and the next thing you know, you’re doing a swimsuit photo shoot for your new tenant? Which apparently unleashes your husband’s inner caveman so hard he fills you up raw?”

“When you put it that way…” Jess fidgeted with her coffee cup.

“Oh honey, I’m just getting started,” Madi’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “And then, because apparently that wasn’t enough, you wake him up with that talented mouth of yours and then at night you pull that panty stunt, which by the way, I’m incredibly proud of, and then he breeds you again! Now there might be a baby Marshall in the works?” She took a sip of her cappuccino. “Girl, who are you and what have you done with my best friend?”

“It sounds crazy when you list it all out like that.”

“Oh honey, it is crazy. The good kind.” Madi’s grin turned wicked. “Speaking of crazy good… Brandon was over last night.”

“Again?” Jess raised an eyebrow.

Madi smiled. “My thighs are still trembling. That man knows exactly what he’s doing.”

“Madi!” Jess glanced around, but their corner was private enough.

“What? Like you haven’t wondered.” Madi leaned closer. “He wonders about you too, you know. Talks about you sometimes…”

“Stop it,” Jess protested, but her voice lacked conviction.

“Actually,” Madi continued, “he told me all about your little gym encounter. Said you looked, and I quote, ‘absolutely fucking edible.’ Had me bent over not twenty minutes later, describing exactly what he’d do to you.”

“Oh god,” Jess groaned, remembering how Brandon’s eyes had practically undressed her. “He’s impossible.”

“You know, he’s been obsessed with you since the day he met you?”

Jess nearly choked on her coffee. “What? No he hasn’t.”

“Oh please. The way he looks at you? The constant flirting? He always jokes that pushing Tom towards you at that party was his biggest mistake. Says he should have saved you for himself.”

Jess rolled her eyes, though a faint blush colored her cheeks. “I know, he always tells me that. And I always thank him for introducing me to my husband.”

“Yeah, well, the way he looks at you? Trust me, if you weren’t married…”

“Can we please change the subject?”

“Fine, fine.” Madi raised her hands in surrender though her smile remained. “You know, sometimes I think moving to Austin was the best decision we ever made. Remember how scared we were? You and Tom following his job, me following you because I couldn’t stand the thought of losing my best friend…”

“God, those first few months were terrifying,” Jess agreed. “If Brandon hadn’t already been here, showing Tom around, convincing him Austin was perfect…”

“Now look at us. You’re killing it with your design career, I’ve got my event planning business, the boys are successful…” Madi paused. “But I miss having more friends around sometimes. Don’t get me wrong, I love our Austin crew, but it’s not the same as growing up with people.”

“I know what you mean. All our closest friends are back home…”

“Speaking of,” Madi brightened. “We haven’t all done anything together in forever. We should plan something! Double date maybe?”

“With you and Brandon?” Jess laughed. “That’s asking for trouble.”

“Why? Because Brandon can’t keep his eyes off you? Because Tom gets all possessive when Brandon flirts?” Madi smiled. “After what you just told me about this weekend, aren’t you curious about how Tom would react?”

“It’s not… I mean…” Jess stumbled over her words.

“No? Then why are you blushing?” Madi squeezed her hand. “I’m not suggesting anything wild. Just dinner, drinks, dancing. Like old times, before everyone got so busy.”

“I’ll think about it,” she promised.

“That’s my girl.” Madi sat back, satisfied, victory written in her face.

—

When she got home, Jess hung the dress in their walk-in closet. She’d splurged, yes, but after this weekend’s passion, after everything shifting between them, it felt right. Besides, Tom’s promotion would soon make these kinds of purchases easier.

7:30 PM arrived with the sound of Tom’s key in the lock. Something in his footsteps, heavier than usual, made Jess’s hand pause as she stirred the sauce. When he appeared in the kitchen doorway, his suit wrinkled and tie loosened, she knew immediately. Whatever was coming, she wouldn’t like it.

“Hey beautiful,” he said, but his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Rough day?” Jess kept her voice light, buying time before whatever bomb he was about to drop.

Tom’s briefcase hit the floor with a soft thud. He loosened his tie further, like it was choking him. “Davis called me in this afternoon. The Meridian implementation… there are problems. Critical ones.”

Jess’s wooden spoon scraped the bottom of the pot. “How critical?”

“They need someone on-site in San Diego. Tomorrow morning.” The words landed between them like stones in still water, ripples of implications spreading outward. “I’ll be back Saturday morning.”

The sauce bubbled. “Tomorrow morning,” Jess repeated, her voice carefully neutral. “As in, you’re missing the party Friday night.”

“The flight’s already booked,” Tom said, running a hand through his hair. “Davis made the arrangements himself. This is huge, Jess. If I can fix this, the promotion’s practically guaranteed.”

The wooden spoon clattered against the stovetop as Jess set it down. She gripped the counter’s edge. “When were you planning to tell me? Or did you think I wouldn’t notice you were gone?”

“I’m telling you now,” Tom replied, a defensive edge creeping into his voice.

“And you couldn’t text? Call?” Jess turned to face him fully. “I was shopping with Madi, picking out…” She stopped herself, the dress hanging in their closet now feeling like a joke at her expense. “Never mind.”

Tom stepped closer, reaching for her, but Jess moved away. The movement was subtle but devastating. “Babe, you know how important this is. After the crypto thing, we need this promotion. The extra income, the stability…” His hand gestured vaguely toward her stomach.

Low blow, Jess thought, her hand unconsciously moving to her flat belly. Using their dreams of starting a family to justify another broken promise. But wasn’t that exactly what he’d been doing all along? Working late, missing events, always with the excuse about their future?

“What time’s your flight?” she asked instead of voicing her thoughts.

“6 AM,” Tom replied, relief evident in his voice as she shifted to practical matters. “I need to leave here by 4:30.”

“I’ll drive you,” Jess said, turning back to the stove. The sauce had started to stick to the bottom of the pot, burning slightly.

“You don’t have to-”

“I said I’ll drive you.” Her tone left no room for argument.

Tom hovered uncertainly before moving to the fridge, probably searching for a beer.

“You should eat,” Jess said, her voice softer now. “Then we need to pack.”

Tom’s arms slid around her waist from behind, his chest pressing against her back. “I’m sorry,” he murmured against her hair. “I know this isn’t what we planned.”

Jess didn’t lean back against him but remembered how different his touch had felt this weekend, how desperate and demanding he’d been, like a man starving for her. Now his embrace felt like an apology, and she was tired of accepting those.

“The pasta’s ready,” she said, pulling away. “I’ll go get your suitcase while you eat.”

In their walk-in closet, Jess selected shirts and slacks while Tom ate alone in the kitchen. The dress watched her like an accusation, its perfect drape now useless. She fought the urge to stuff it in the back of the closet, to hide this evidence of her naivety.

Her fingers moved across Tom’s clothes, selecting pieces with careful consideration despite her hurt. The blue shirt that brought out his eyes. The gray slacks fit him perfectly. Even now, hurt and disappointed, she couldn’t help but take care of him.

A text from Madi lit up her phone: “Did you show him the dress yet???”

Jess stared at the message, throat tight. How could she explain that within mere hours, everything had shifted again, that the weekend’s passion already felt like a fading dream? She left the text unanswered and focused on packing.

The suitcase lay open on their bed as Jess folded another shirt. The sound of Tom eating drifted from the kitchen, fork against plate, ice clicking in his glass. Such ordinary sounds for such an extraordinary disappointment.

Minutes later, Tom appeared in the doorway, plate in hand. “I can do that.”

“Almost done,” Jess replied, not looking up. “Did you check your email for the flight details?”

“Yeah, everything’s confirmed.” He set his plate on the dresser, moved closer. “Babe, talk to me. I know you’re upset.”

Jess continued folding. “I’m not upset. I understand. The project needs you. The promotion’s important.”

“But?”

“But nothing.” She zipped the suitcase with more force than necessary. “We both know how this works. Something comes up, plans change, life goes on. I’m used to it.”

“That’s not fair,” Tom protested, but his voice carried a hint of guilt. “This isn’t just another late night at the office. This is different.”

“Is it?” Jess finally turned to face him. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks exactly the same. You making decisions that affect us both without even a phone call. Me rearranging my life to accommodate your career. Again.”

“After this weekend, after everything…” Tom ran his hand through his hair in frustration. “I thought you understood how important this is for our future.”

“I do understand. That’s the problem.” Jess moved past him toward the bathroom. “I always understand. I’m the understanding wife who stays home while you chase promotions. Who smiles and says it’s fine when you miss events.”

The bathroom counter became her new fortress as she began her nighttime routine.

Tom leaned against the doorframe. “You know that’s not true. Babe, this promotion means everything. Better pay, more stability. We could start our family sooner…”

“Don’t.” Jess’s hand tightened around her moisturizer. “Don’t use our future baby to justify this. Not when I might already be…” She couldn’t finish the sentence, couldn’t voice the possibility that had seemed so exciting just hours ago. “I need to shower,” Jess said finally. “Early morning tomorrow.”

Tom hesitated, clearly wanting to say more, to fix this somehow. But what could he say? The flight was booked. The decision made.

“I’ll set the alarm,” he said finally.

Under the hot water, Jess let tears mix with the water, the invisible evidence of her disappointment washing down the drain. She pressed her forehead against the cool tile, allowing herself this private moment of weakness.

She thought about the dress, about Madi’s excitement, her own excitement. The Skyline launch wasn’t just another corporate event. It was her moment, the public unveiling of the project that could cement her reputation in the company. Chris Webb would be there with his investors. Margaret had already hinted that several other potential clients were attending specifically to meet the designers.

How many mind-numbing company dinners had she attended, smiling through Tom’s colleagues’ boring stories? How many times had she rearranged her schedule for his work events, nodding politely while corporate wives discussed recipes and vacation homes? She’d worn uncomfortable heels and laughed at unfunny jokes, all to support his career. And now, when she finally had something worth celebrating, something that was entirely hers, he was flying to San Diego.

When she slipped into bed, she maintained careful distance between their bodies. The same bed where they’d made love so passionately just two nights ago now felt vast and cold.

“Goodnight,” Tom murmured into the darkness.

“Goodnight,” Jess replied, staring at the ceiling.

—

The alarm hadn’t gone off yet when Jess opened her eyes. 4:00 AM glowed red on the bedside clock. She’d barely slept while Tom’s breathing remained deep and even beside her. She slipped from beneath the covers, careful not to wake him for these last precious minutes of rest.

The hardwood was cold beneath her bare feet as she padded to the bathroom. In the mirror, she splashed cold water on her face, the shock helping to ground her in this surreal hour where night bled into morning.

The kitchen felt foreign in pre-dawn darkness. Jess moved through familiar motions, measuring coffee, cracking eggs, buttering toast. The coffee maker’s gentle gurgle filled the silence.

She was plating eggs when Tom appeared, suit jacket draped over his arm. He looked polished and professional, every inch the rising star consultant. Only the shadows under his eyes showed any hint of their tension.

“You didn’t have to cook,” he said softly.

Jess kept her eyes on the plates. “You need to eat before the flight.”

They settled at the kitchen island, the granite cold beneath her forearms. Tom’s fork scraped against ceramic. Neither spoke. The silence felt heavy with all the things they weren’t saying, with the ghost of their weekend’s passion, with the reality of his imminent departure.

“The big meeting’s at ten,” Tom said finally. “I should be done by four their time, if you want to FaceTime…”

“I have client meetings,” Jess replied.

More silence. More coffee growing cold. More pretending this was just another morning, just another business trip, just another necessary sacrifice for their future.

“We should go soon,” Jess said, glancing at the clock. “Traffic might be bad.”

Tom nodded, standing to rinse his mostly full plate. The sound of running water seemed obscenely loud in their quiet kitchen. Jess watched his back, remembering the scratches she’d left there during their passionate reunion. Now the marks were hidden beneath crisp cotton and silk tie, like their weekend never happened.

The suitcase waited by the door. Tom grabbed it while Jess collected her keys and phone. The pre-dawn air hit them as they stepped outside, carrying the promise of another scorching Austin day. But for now, everything was shadow and silence.

Movement caught Jess’s eye. Bob’s kitchen light was on, his broad silhouette visible through the blinds as he moved around his space.

They drove through empty streets, traffic lights cycling for phantom cars. Tom’s hand rested on the center console, palm up in silent invitation, but Jess kept both hands firmly on the steering wheel.

“I really am sorry,” Tom said as they merged onto the highway. “About the party, about everything.”

Jess kept her eyes forward. “I know.”

“When I get back Sat-”

“Let’s just focus on getting you to the airport,” Jess cut him off.

The airport approached too quickly. Jess pulled into short-term parking rather than the departure drop-off. Some masochistic part of her needed to see this through properly, to walk him to security like a dutiful wife should.

Tom’s hand found the small of her back as they walked through sliding doors into fluorescent brightness. Jess allowed it, even as her spine remained rigid beneath his palm.

The check-in counter was nearly empty. They stood in silence as Tom’s bag disappeared down the conveyor belt. All around them, other travelers moved with purpose, business people clutching briefcases, families corralling sleepy children, couples sharing early morning kisses goodbye. Jess felt disconnected from all of it, like she was watching a movie about someone else’s life.

“Security’s not too bad,” Tom observed, gesturing at the short line. “I should probably…”

“Yeah,” Jess agreed quickly. “You don’t want to miss your flight.”

Tom turned to face her fully, his hands finding her shoulders. “I love you,” he said softly. “You know that, right?”

Jess nodded, not trusting her voice.

“I’ll call when I land,” he promised.

“Okay.”

He hesitated, clearly wanting more, a real kiss, a proper goodbye, some acknowledgment of their connection. But Jess remained still, arms crossed over her chest. Finally, Tom pressed a quick kiss to her forehead and stepped back.

“Drive safe,” he said.

Jess watched him join the security line. He turned back once, raising his hand in farewell. She managed a small wave before turning away, her composure finally cracking.

She made it halfway to the parking garage before the tears started.

The Tesla’s interior still held Tom’s scent, his cologne mixing with the leather seats. Jess sat in the parking garage, hands gripping the steering wheel as tears blurred her vision.

Her phone buzzed: “Made it through security. Love you.”

The screen blurred as fresh tears fell. She didn’t reply. What could she say? That she missed him already? That she might be carrying their child while he chased promotions across the country?

The sun was rising by the time she pulled into their driveway. The house looked different somehow, as if Tom’s absence had already changed its character.

Inside, their bedroom still held evidence of their morning rush. The sheets were tangled, her pajamas discarded on the floor. Tom’s side of the bed remained slightly indented. Jess stripped the sheets.

She was loading the washer when she heard muffled sounds in Bob’s apartment. The sound made her intensely aware of her state, wearing only Tom’s t-shirt, legs bare, eyes probably red from crying. She exited the room and closed the door quietly, not wanting him to know she was there.

Back in their bedroom, Jess stood in front of the closet mirror. The emerald green dress caught her eye, still hanging where she’d placed it yesterday. She touched the fabric, remembering her excitement while shopping with Madi. Such a stupid, naive purchase. When would she even wear it now? The office party was Friday, but without Tom there…

Her phone buzzed again: “Boarding soon. Gate’s packed. Wish you were here.”

She replied: “Have a safe flight.”

Simple. Practical. Nothing about how their bed felt too big or how the house seemed to echo with his absence. Nothing about the possibility growing inside her or the way their passionate weekend already felt like a fading dream.