For the first time in what felt like forever, I let myself breathe, let myself hope, just a little, that we could find our way back.
The aroma of coffee and burned toast drifted up the stairs, the scent of normal life trying to force its way back in.
“Coffee’s ready,” he said. “You want some?”
I took in the gentle slump of his shoulders, the exhaustion under his eyes, the weight he carried like penance, and my heart bled for him.
“Yeah. Please.”
He gave a small nod, almost relieved to have something he could fix, and disappeared back down the hall.
Adrian setup a breakfast tray on the bedside table and then crossed over to sit on the bed beside me, tablet in hand,scrolling through emails and news. Every so often, his eyes flicked up to check on me.
The silence stretched and thickened, the only sound the scrape of my fork against the plate and my molars grinding the toast to dust, magnified in my own ears. It made me restless, made my stomach twist with unease. Finally, I couldn’t hold it in.
“When are you going back to work?” I blurted out in a voice sharper than I had intended.
He didn’t flinch. “I took a leave of absence.”
“How long?” I asked, swallowing hard. My words came out desperate, grasping at something I wasn’t ready to admit.
“As long as necessary,” he said softly. “Until you’re feeling better.”
I hesitated, chewing as my mind frayed. “But… what about making department head? That was important to you.” My voice was quieter now, almost pleading.
He finally looked at me, eyes tired but patient, lips pressing together. “Was,” he stressed, the word heavy, deliberate. “I got so caught up in my job, saving everyone else, that I forgot about us. About you.” He reached over, brushing a stray hair from my forehead. “Making department head will never be more important than you. Not now, not ever. Right now, I’m only focused on your recovery. Nothing else.”
I felt a lump rise in my throat, my chest tightening. Was it relief? Resentment? I couldn’t tell which. All the awards, the promotions, the late nights chasing department head was all for nothing, because here he was, choosing me, staying for me.
Part of me wanted to be grateful. God, I wanted to be grateful.But another part of me simmered with bitterness at the cost. All those years he’d clawed toward his ambitions, and now he was discarding them so easily for us. And here I was, caught between admiration and anger, wondering if our marriage could survive the burden of all that sacrifice.
Chapter 25
Touch And Go
ADRIAN
Steam curled through the bathroom, fogging the mirrors and clinging to the tile. I guided him into the shower, hands firm on his hips, steadying him against the slick floor. His hands gripped the bar, knuckles white, and I felt the tension in his muscles, bracing and cautious.
“Lean on me,” I whispered, letting my breath ghost over his ear.
Eli exhaled slowly and shifted a little more weight onto me. I could feel the trust in that motion, faint but present. My hands traced down his sides, brushing over wet skin, and I let my fingertips linger at the small of his back. Each contact was a tether, a reminder that I was here, that I hadn’t let go.
I held him there, feeling the warmth of his body pressed against mine. Every heartbeat, every shallow breath, reminded me how fragile he was and how much I wanted to protect himin every sense. I traced his shoulder blades, rubbed his upper arms, feeling how taut he was, how tense.
Steam and soap wrapped around us in a warm fog that made every nerve light up.
My mouth hovered near his ear, neck, just brushing the skin, the faintest scent of him drifting into my nose. I held Eli, steadying him, letting him lean on me, giving him permission to be vulnerable in ways he rarely allowed lately. I wanted more, a hundred different ways, but I held back. Right now, it wasn’t about me. It was about him, about the trust and safety that would help him heal.
I whispered, “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”
He shivered against me, not from cold, but from the closeness, my words and my body. I let myself enjoy the way he needed me, leaned on me. A false sense of security, maybe, but it felt real. For a few stolen minutes, the world outside this bathroom didn’t exist. There were no injuries, no hospital, no past regrets. Just him. Just us.
I held him through it, guiding his hands, letting him guide mine as I washed his chest and shoulders. His hair brushed against my face when he bent forward, and the sound of the water masked our breathing, our little sighs of comfort and want. Desire was there, simmering under the surface, but so was patience, restraint, love in its quietest, most tactile form.
My cock hardened against his warm, wet skin. I slid between his cheeks, just resting it there, letting him feel my desire, how much I needed him. Eli pushed back, either seeking proof or just friction. I didn’t know and didn't care. I gave himboth. The soapy glide of my shaft through his crease wrung the most delicious groan from him.
Such a pity I couldn’t fuck him like this.
