Page 88 of The Art of Dying

“You think Mason’s there?”

“Maybe.”

She glanced over her shoulder. “I don’t know how long I have before the kids realize I’m gone.”

I winked at her. “Grant has it covered. I just…” I hugged her again. “I need to hold you. It’s killing me to be this close to them and not scoop them up. I heard their little voices and they already sound so different. They’ve both grown so much.”

She nodded against my chest. “They miss you. Wes… Dylan is so much like you. He made me so proud today.”

“I saw that.”

“You did?”

I breathed out a laugh. “I don’t know if I can do that again. Not sprinting toward you was tough. I put a lot of trust in Gina’s dog in that moment.”

Mack looked up at me, touching my face. “How long can you stay?”

I sighed. “Not long.”

“Take me home.”

I kissed her again and then peeked out into the hallway. Grant, Gina, and the kids were in the front yard playing with Apollo. Dylan and Emily’s faces were covered in chocolate, they were grinning ear to ear, and it killed me to keep it from them that I was twenty yards away.

I pulled Mack’s hand and led her out the back door, through the gate, and to the back of her house as quickly and quietly as I could.

As soon as Mack unlocked the back door, she pulled me inside and toward the bedroom, undressing herself as she kissed me. She was in a rush, no time for romance or anything else. I picked her up and laid her on the bed, yanking my shirt over my head and unbuttoning my jeans. It had been a long time. Even if she wasn’t in a hurry, I wasn’t sure how long I could last, anyway. I’d always been attracted to my wife, obsessed with her, really, and struggled to keep my hands off her. She was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen, the sexiest. Everything about her body was perfect, and the best part was that she was mine.

Seeing her lying on the bed, wearing just her skin and a seductive smile, the only thing I could think of in that moment was being inside of her, but I couldn’t move.

She reached for me. “Come here.”

During deployments, we at least had the opportunity to communicate. Mack looked so different, and as much as I loved her, I suddenly felt like strangers, and a weird, strong, guilty feeling washed over me, as if I was cheating on my wife.

I lay next to her, and she held me. “It’s the hair, isn’t it? I know, it’s awful.”

I leaned up on one elbow. “You could shave it off and you’d still be the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. It’s just… it’s been a long time. I just had a weird feeling and I can’t shake it.” I watched her face, waiting for a hurt or disappointed expression, but she smiled.

“Close your eyes.”

“What?”

“Close your eyes. I still feel the same.”

“I don’t need to, babe.”

“Just do it.”

I did as she asked, rolled on top of her, positioning myself between her thighs. Her lips pressed against mine as I slowly worked myself inside of her, groaning when my dick was finally all the way in, slick and warm, engulfed in its favorite place to be. Her mouth was the same, the way she moved was the same, and it didn’t take long for us to fall back into a familiar rhythm.

There wasn’t enough time to touch her everywhere I wanted, to kiss her as much as I needed. I felt desperate to be reminded of her every curve, the marks on her skin that narrated gentle, fading lines of the days she’d carried our children, and each fine line around her eyes that grew deeper every time I made her laugh. I’d forgotten what sex was like before marrying the woman I loved. A build up to a climax that lasted a few seconds, followed by emptiness and awkwardness, the absence of the intimacy of familiarity, of the peace and comfort that I felt with my wife? Not just preferable, but superior. The days when I focused on the feeling instead of the woman beneath me? Back then, I couldn’t wait to escape the awkwardness of the after. Now, the thought of leaving Mack was so painful it was all I could do not to break down.

I didn’t remember me before her, except that life was easier when nothing meant anything. The pain, the longing, the anxiety, the frustration… I’d take it over easy any day. It meant I was holding on to something real. Something sacred.

“I miss you,” Mack whispered, breathless.

I pressed my forehead to hers and then rolled onto my side, pulling her against me. She began to cry, and I held her tight, speaking in comforting whispers.

After a few minutes, she wiped her eyes and turned to face me, forcing a smile. “I’m glad you came.”

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