Page 20 of Red, White, and You

To bring us to this moment right here.

I don’t understand it, but I believe that everything happened for a reason, and everything led us right back into each other’s arms.

My wife comes quietly this time, still half asleep, and I kiss her tenderly through each tremor, dropping soft kisses on her cheeks, her eyelids, her lips, then slowly guide her back down to earth with gentle strokes of my fingers between her legs.

She sighs, smiling softly as she opens those beautiful eyes and looks up at me. “I could get used to that.” As if realizing what she said, she quickly closes her mouth.

I wait for her to make the next move, letting her set the course. I’ve all but told her I want more of this after this week is over, and she’s been quite clear about not wanting to discuss anything past next Friday.

“Do you really have to leave me?” With an emphasized pout, she rolls onto her side and stretches her body along the length of mine. “What will I do in this big ol’ cabin all by myself?” A flash of worry crosses her expression. She’s truly unsure of what to do with herself while I’m gone.

That worry makes my chest ache. I wish I could stay with her every moment, show her how to relax and have fun, but my financial planner is scheduled to arrive shortly, and I can’t miss this meeting.

I slide my hands down to grasp her waist, then turn onto my back and haul her on top of me. She fits so perfectly against me; my cock is already a heavy weight between us, hard and pressing against her center. “Maybe I’ll wear you out so you can sleep in a little longer.”

“Good thinking.” Pressing her hands against my chest to push herself up into a seated position, she wiggles her hips, teasing me as her slick folds slide along the length of my erection. “I see now why you’re the boss,” she murmurs, “with brilliant ideas like that one.”

I make her come two more times, then race to my first meeting with a smile on my face and a content, settled feeling in my soul.

Like I’m finally whole again. At peace.

Like Brielle was truly what was missing from my life.

Now, when I sell the camp and move to the city, I’ll have more to offer her than the kid she walked away from seventeen years ago.

Brie

After Brady left me this morning, I slept for another good hour, then showered, took my time drying and styling my hair, applied a hydration mask to counteract the dryness of the forest, and then did my full face of makeup. I slowly decided what to wear, unfolding and refolding my clothes to see all that was packed, then dressed in new teal yoga pants and a matching sports bra.

By the time I check my phone for the time, I’m hopeful that I’ve taken long enough and he’ll be close to done with his meetings—

I huff.

Time mocks me. It’s only ten o’clock.

Brady will be busy until at least two o’clock this afternoon.

My stomach growls, and I have the beginning throb of a caffeine headache blooming in my temples.

I can hide out in this cabin no longer.

Pulling a white linen button-down shirt over the sports bra, I grab my cell phone and my laptop and step outside. Brady informed me that the only Wi-Fi can be found in his office, which he gave me permission to enter and told me his staff knows I’m coming.

Sure, I may have convinced myself to take the time away, but the work doesn’t stop—so neither can I.

When I step into the bustling dining hall, every bit of relaxation Brady’s presence provided me seeps out of me instantly. I should have just stayed in the cabin. It’s noisy and overwhelming to be surrounded by a mess hall full of strangers and, if I’m not imagining things, they’re all staring at me.

But the air isn’t only thick with curiosity and conversation, it’s heavy with the scent of freshly brewed coffee and the delightful aroma of sizzling bacon, so instead of turning on my heels and hightailing it back to the cabin, I drift further into the room, driven by my caffeine addiction and my undying love of friend food.

I make my way to an empty table near the window, casting a curious glance at the tables of campers around me as I pass. They seem so carefree, so at ease in their sun-kissed skin, as if they possess a secret to happiness that has eluded me for far too long.

As I sit down, I sense the weight of their gazes upon me, dissecting me. No doubt they’ve seen me with Brady, who is very obviously highly admired around here, but even more than that, I stick out like a sore thumb. Not only are my clothes new and expensive, they’re brightly colored. Not an ounce of vomit green or cowpie brown in either of those suitcases.

I force a smile, then focus on my personal email inbox from the app on my phone, pretending that their questioning looks and blatant whispers don’t bother me. But beneath my facade of confidence, I'm a bundle of nerves. It's been a very long time since I last indulged in a leisurely breakfast. Can they tell? Is it so obvious that I don’t belong, that I’m not one of them? Building my firm has taken every minute of free time, sucked the life out of every day. And now, in the midst of this camp, where time seems to slow, how can anyone expect me to just let go of that responsibility?

How have all these people just… unplugged?

After a few moments without a server, I look up from my phone and scan the room to flag one down, quickly realizing that the other campers are serving themselves.

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