When It's Love

Suddenly, she was sobbing her heart out, anguish convulsing her, and I wrapped her up, pulling her against me and she let out her anguish. It went on for what seemed like an hour, and my emotions were nearly as raw as hers.

"I'm sorry I wasn't perfect," she finally choked out. "I'm sorry I destroyed that image of me in your mind."

I pulled her up and into my lap, holding her warm little body to mine, reaching over to the box of tissues and handing them to her.

"Fuck, Donovan. I'm far from perfect, myself. I've been a fool. I don't like what happened. Still, I was stupid, and you weren't much better. We let this nearly destroy something beautiful. Trust me, I still think you're perfect. You're human, that's all. Humans do stupid shit. If they didn't, there would never be a single book written, never a single movie made."

"I know," she whispered. "I've been so wretched without you, Shaw. What can I do to get back, what can we do?"

"What we're doing," I said. "I was an idiot not to do this months ago. I'm not very good at confrontation. I need to work on that."

"So do I," she said. "I was an even bigger idiot. You have no idea how many times I dialed your number, but didn't hit call. I have pulled up text conversations we had, just so I could hear your voice in my mind."

I squeezed her. "Well, we are going to have millions of conversations, in person."

She gave me a watery little giggle. "Imma keep the texts, anyway."

*****

It was a bump in the road. We resumed the friendship we'd had before the first time we made love, proceeded slowly along the road, went out constantly, hung out together and that easy familiarity returned.

I was a little wary, realizing I'd been clueless, but she worked to overcome my hesitancy. She was as intoxicating as always, the headiness of just being in her company was like someone slowly casting a spell on you.

The euphoric feeling that washed over me when she touched me, pressed all that hotness against me was overwhelming, and she was the same provocative, sweet and gentle girl I'd met the first day in Professor Wade's class. She was very physical with me, touching me, snuggling into me, rubbing her tits on me, just being her usual smoke show, and obviously for me. I was sure she was ready to make love long before I was, and she was driving me wild, wanting to be with her.

She dressed, or failed to dress I should say, to show me what she wanted. When she was with me, she never wore a bra and the sight of those sweet nipples poking through every thin top she wore, her lush breasts swinging freely, bouncing with every step, the swimsuits she wore, the tiny little tight skirts and shorts she wore, all let me know in foot high neon, "I am sexy, gorgeous and available."

Our jobs were working out, though we both spent more time working than we wanted. Once she got me in bed again, it was like she was making up for lost time.

Every man says they love sex, but only our minds are a match for a horny woman. We made love two and three times a day, and I felt like she would do it half a dozen times if I could have kept up. My dick was constantly tender, the way it was, and even she used lube to keep from being sore.

She moved back into our house, this time with no reservations and no leaving any of her shit at her dad's place.

Eighteen months after she moved back in, I took a knee at a very nice restaurant, put a ring on her finger and asked her to marry me.

She squealed and did a little dance to the applause of our fellow diners. "Oh, my God, yes," she squealed. "I want to marry you, so badly, Shaw."

She got serious and sat back down, admiring her ring. "I want a long engagement," she said. "I don't want you just to be in love with me. I mean, I want that, but I want you to trust me, like a rock, and I'm still working on that, okay?"

"If you want a long engagement, I'm fine with that, but not for that reason, Donovan. I do trust you, like a rock, like you said. I always did, I guess. I thought some weird shit, but I think I always knew. How does six months sound?"

"I think 18 months," she said.

We compromised on a year. Eight years later, we have two tiny clones of Donovan. One is four and the other is two. We bought the house from Dad, and I now come home to two tiny girls waiting for Daddy on the front porch every day. In a minute, their mother will arrive, and I know the sight of her will take my breath away, just like the first time I saw her.

The girls and I were sitting in the restaurant. It was packed and loud. There was a momentary silence, a hiccup in the raucous din. I turned to look toward the door. I knew what caused it, and there she was. She walked to our booth and when she sat, the conversation started again.

She kissed me and turned to the munchkins. "Mama's babies have a wonderful day?"

Everything was right with the world. When it's love, everything is always right.