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“Please Cole, I need you…” I can’t even finish before I feel another smack, not only on my ass butthere. “Yes!” I say as I am rocketed over the edge, my body losing all control and trembling.
I can feel Cole gripping my hips and entering my swollen, throbbing center. His rhythm is hard and strong and the connection between us is so intense that all I can do is push back into him as hard as he thrusts toward me. We are literally trying to tear each other apart in order to get closer and with that we both fall again. Cole yells out my name, covering my back with his body as we both collapse together. He holds himself up for support, just enough to avoid crushing me.
“Fuck!” I can feel Cole nod in agreement against my back. When he pulls out it makes me wet all over again. I ache for that delicious pinch of pain. My body craves it. Of all the memories I’ve lost, this one is the most instinctual, the most automatic. I don’t need my mind to remember how to love Cole, because my body clearly remembers just fine.
He walks back to the bed with a washcloth and sits next to me. I watch him with awe as he cleans my body, treating it like a temple. He kisses each breast and rubs lotion on my bottom. He sits me up and slips my negligée back over my head, kissing my swollen lips.
“Thank you,” he says.
“For what?”
“For choosing me.”
I lean forward and deepen our kiss, tired but unable to keep away from him. It’s like we’re making up for lost time. Cole makes slow, sweet love to me two more times that night. Before falling asleep, I watch him and while admiring his beautiful face, I have a memory, a memory of him making love to me the night we were married.
“I’m coming back to you Cole, I promise.” I whisper this before drifting off to sleep next to my husband.
“Mia, it’s been a month. I think you need to just commit. What do you want? I can’t live in limbo any longer.”
I stand looking at the main wall in our living room, Cole pacing behind me.
“I can’t choose, I love them both. The one on the right makes the room feel warm and cozy, but the color on the left is bright and cheery. Both are really perfect!”
“Ugh woman! You are infuriating. Just pick a damn color, or I promise you I will paint it all black!”
“I will kill you if you paint our walls black.”
Cole stalks over, giving me his best angry pout, making it hard for me to keep a straight face. He breaks his pout to join in my laughter.
“Quit making me laugh, I’m trying to be serious,” he says.
“Well then, stop looking so adorable.” I reach up to pinch his cheeks but Cole grabs my wrists and growls as he levels his glare at me. The moment he gets that look in his eyes, my insides heat up.
He lets go of my wrists to put his hands on my waist, and lifts me until I am eye level to him.
My smile broadens because I know what comes next. I love it when he gets all alpha male on me.
“Pick a color,” he says in a low growl.
“And if I don’t?”
“Then I will make you live with whatever I choose. Either way, Iwillfuck you.”
This is a turn I wasn’t expecting. If Cole picks the color, I will probably hate it forever.
“The right,” I blurt, throwing my arms around his neck. He lets out Zeus’ laugh, big and booming. Reaching down he grabs behind my thighs and wraps them around his waist, pinning me to the wall. I’m then reminded of one of the ways I love my husband to fuck me.
We have been playing house for a month, finding it surprisingly easy. I knew I needed to be here, with him, to truly get back what I’ve been missing. A part of me still struggles with all the things I don’t remember; it makes me feel deficient as his wife. The one truth I know is that the current me loves Cole deeply and I am loved back with the same fierce intensity. The fear, however, of not living up to the person he fell in love with before, it lingers in the background, always nagging, making me second guess the longevity of his love.
We are taking our time now, trying to rediscover ourselves and each other as a couple slowly, telling each other stories about our pasts and confiding what we see in our future during nights and days of lovemaking. The more we open up to each other, the more my memory returns in flashes. The other day, I remembered arguing over the couch. Apparently I put up a pretty big fight to get this couch! It made me laugh when I thought of the first time I came to the apartment, when Cole laughed because I’d shown appreciation for the sofa in his living room. These small moments bring us closer but simultaneously remind us there is still a gap between us to conquer.
One night we talk about how we met, and that helps put things into focus. It’s the first thing Cole wants to tell me, but I refuse. He doesn’t understand but although it seems silly, I want such a beautiful moment to be one that I remember on my own, first. It’s ridiculous, I know. He was obviously there when we met, but I don’t want to be coaxed there. This love, his love, feels precious. I may not remember the details of our early dates, but my body and subconscious remember the force of our bond. I didn’t understood when we met the second time why I was so intensely drawn to him, but since Alex spilled the beans it finally all makes sense to me.
Our current reality is we’ve been living in a cocoon, sheltered from the outside world. I am too afraid to say what I’m pretty sure we’re both feeling, which iswhat if we fall apart outside these walls?I feel safe and protected here, physically and mentally. Cole mostly understands and accepts the gaps in my memory. He has fallen into a pattern of compensating for my lapses, but I wouldn’t even know how to broach that window of time with an acquaintance.
Cole took the month to work from home, but I know it’s a matter of time before he will have to return. I secretly wish we could stay in our bubble forever, but time is ticking. Today, he has to go into the office for a bit, leaving me to my own devices. I tool around the apartment, watching television and calling Alex to check on her. I am happy to discover that she is settled into her new apartment (the one we secured together) and has unpacked her last box. It’s very satisfying to see your closest friend settle back into her life so happily.
Alex has refused the security detail Cole offered, much to his dismay, but I understand. I don’t think Carter would ever target her; I seemed to be his target, not Alex. Since I moved back in with Cole, he has insisted on my detail. Of course I try to get out of it because it puts a real hiccup in my freedom, but it’s ridiculous to think I will ever win that argument.
