Page 279 of Falling for the Wife

“Yeah,” her small voice came through. It was making me incredibly guilty.

The past two weeks had been brilliantly fantastic, and I was hoping this tiny error on my part wouldn’t change a thing between us.

“Are you going with someone; is that why you’re telling me about this?” She sounded rational, as if none of this was bothering her, which only made me frown a little more.

“Emily had previously put Hilary’s name in, and since all the formal invitations were sent out, it’s hard to change names at the last minute. You know how these things work—”

“I do. Of course I do.” She sighed before adding, “Are you coming home to change, or will you be changing at the office?”

“I’m coming home. Maybe we could share a small meal or something …” Anything, really, as long as she wasn’t royally mad at me.

“Yeah, I suppose that won’t be so bad. What time should I expect you?” she asked, just as I glanced at the time.

“In an hour.” I cleared my throat. “Expect me in an hour’s time.”

Staring at the hairpin that had a jewel that was closely similar to her eyes, my memory took me to the morning I had taken it out of her hair while she was sleeping. As always, we had ended up in bed right after we had arrived back from dinner, and in my haste, I had simply ripped her clothes off because I couldn’t wait any longer. She had looked peaceful with her dark her in a perfect imperfect disarray, framing her beautiful face. I was uncertain what had prompted me to take it, but something had me wanting to have a piece of her with me while at work.

It made me feel closer to her since she spent her days doing whatever she had planned. From yoga to scouting the perfect nursery, she had managed to fill her time with all kinds of activities so she didn’t have to keep waiting for me to get home. I was ecstatic that she was having a lovely time. Although, at the same time, I was worried she was on her own.

When I had requested if she would be okay if I hired another driver for her convenience, she had immediately shut it down, leaving me somehow frustrated and frightened for her safety. It wasn’t just her that I was protecting now; she was carrying our little bundle, and I was this overprotective man who simply wanted them safe at all times.

“Ava …” I trailed off, wanting to say so much, yet I wasn’t sure how to even start.

“Yes, Reiss?”

I miss you …“I’ll see you in a bit, yeah?” I was a coward, and I knew it. I had this immense fear that, if I started telling her what was going on in my mind, she might change her mind and take flight. The first time had been tragic enough. If she did it to me again, I wouldn’t stop until she fully knew how furious I was with her.

After ending the call with a hasty goodbye, my hand clung on to her emblem.

Hilary had called earlier, stating that, if I didn’t want to take her, she totally understood because she knew my situation with Ava. I felt awful since I knew Hilary had gone through such lengths to prepare for tonight. I didn’t want to hurt Ava’s feelings, nor did I want to rebuff Hilary’s lengthy preparations for a night out. Besides, I knew tonight was important because I hadn’t been doing much else after work other than be with Ava, and deep down, I believed that, if I didn’t put a little space between us, things could get utterly complicated. However, I knew I had better ask Ava for that face to face so I could see her expressions and tell if she was lying to hurt me or not.

Approximately an hour later, I arrived at the house, finding Ava sprawled in front of the television, indulging in her odd fascination with reality TV. She had cute, bite-sized egg, ham, and fresh mozzarella with tomato and basil sandwiches. She also had petite, fresh-cut chips; mini fruit tarts; fresh crème; and blueberry scones with a freshly brewed pot of tea.

“Hello …” I greeted with a knock before I strode into the room, grinning at her engrossed face as she ate one of the sandwiches. The sauce oozed out of the sandwich, leaving her with a small peach colored smear next to her lip. “How’s your afternoon going?” I bent over to give her a peck before my thumb swiped the sauce off her face. Then, placing it in between my lips, I sucked the flavor from my thumb. “Tasty,” I murmured and saw her cheeks flush beautifully at me.

“Hi,” she greeted me with a smile before her concentration went back to the show.

Sitting next to her, I took my time as I poured myself a cup of tea before taking my shoes off and stretching out. She eagerly sought my warmth and placed her head on my chest.

“Most of these women have fake boobs. They look rather tacky on such a small frame,” she murmured much to herself before glancing at me. “Have you touched one? Does it feel rubbery like it appears to me?”

My brows rose up, a soft chuckle emanating from me. “Well, let’s see …” I pretended to recall the women I had been with as she patiently waited for me. “I do remember this one woman. She was gorgeous, but one could immediately tell that she wasn’t happy with her body. It was all she spoke about the entire night, and seeing that I was more inebriated than I cared for, I hadn’t minded when she kept on talking about how she wanted to enlarge this area, stretch that part. It was unfortunate, really, but yeah, her boobs weren’t rubbery per say. Although, I can’t fully agree they were soft, either. I suppose they were right between rubbery and soft”—I made a face—“if that makes sense at all.”

“Which do you prefer?” she asked curiously.

“Need you ask?” I pulled her towards me, leaving kisses on her neck before trailing them down to the valley of her cleavage. “I prefer these. Not just any boobs, but my wife’s breasts. They’re mighty glorious.”

She squealed as she protested, and told me I had better be on my best behavior.

When we separated, she told me, “I made blueberry scones. I remember you used to love them.” She took a napkin before carefully taking one from the small pile on the blue china. Handing it to me, she urged me to take a small bite.

The sweetness softly crumbled on my tongue, melting into a powdery goodness. “Delicious. Christ, how I love these,” I groaned as I took another bite before making another sound of enthusiasm. “So good …”

For a while, my attention was focused on the show as well, wondering how in the world these women survived acting and looking like they had come out of a drag show. The piled on make-up, larger than life breasts, ostentatious jewelry, claw-like nails, and the hideous hair … did any men find these monstrosities attractive?

Quietly, we both ate, enjoying each other’s company in comfortable silence. I knew I should start getting ready soon; however, I wasn’t completely inclined to leave her side just yet. I liked this—the comfortable silence, the companionship, the feeling of having Ava next to me. Was this how life was supposed to be with her—simple, uncomplicated, without much care for the rest of the world?

I actually found it truly relaxing because, with the high tension-filled environment of my everyday life, it was refreshing to come home to ahome. Not just a house I stayed at to sleep, but a home where I could relax and share my time with someone who appreciated my presence without demanding anything, without having to explain how my day had gone, or whatever else women usually adored talking about—all the things Ava didn’t do. She was happy with how things were going, plain and simple.

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