Isabel
It’s past nine when I finally close the studio, ushering out the last person from my advanced aerial class. They usually like to stick around the longest to chit-chat, and tonight was the first night in a long time where I actually felt up to making small talk.
After that little moment with Drake in the bathroom, I’m starting to feel like myself again. What happened between us was progress, finally able to let go of the grief of him leaving and the guilt of being together. But I know that is what Hunter wanted us to do. Maybe because finally being with him means that Hunter is making progress too, hence coming home soon.
I know in my heart that Hunter wanted Drake and I to be together. Because, deep down, it was never really about cuckolding or hotwifing or any kink, really. It was about finding the relationship we were always supposed to be in.
After locking the front door, I head into the back, so I can close out the books for the day, do some last-minute picking up, and throw the towels into the hamper to take home and wash. Just as I shut the computer off, I hear the bell of the front door chime, and I freeze.
I locked it, didn’t I? I swear I locked it.
The only other people with a key are my receptionist and…
Slowly, I walk toward the front, peering into the lobby from the staff room, when I see a man standing near the door with a bouquet of flowers in his hands. It doesn’t matter that the lights are still on and I can see him clear as day. My brain doesn’t compute right away and so I stare in shock at my husband, who I haven’t laid eyes on in two whole months—fifty-seven days, to be exact.
A scream flies from my mouth as I sprint across the room, eating up every inch of space between us in desperation. The flowers he’s holding are crushed between our bodies as I soar into his arms, crashing against him.
The relief is visceral. His scent, his presence, even the warmth of his breath against my neck is familiar. Every minute of the fifty-seven days we spent apart, I survived. But it truly was just surviving, and it was a struggle. But now…he’s here, and I can finally breathe and let myself feel again.
“Oh, Red,” he whispers against my temple as I bury my face in his neck, and the sound of his voice sends me over the edge. I let out the sob I’ve been holding in.
“Please don’t go again,” I beg. “Please, please, please.”
His dark chuckle vibrates through me. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m done being away from you.”
When I pull away from his embrace, I stare at him through my tears. “You are?”
He brushes my hair out of my face, his eyes raking over the new shorter length, without any real reaction. “Yes. I’m coming home.”
More tears pool in my eyes, and I’ve never felt such gratitude in my life.
“If I can come home…” he adds.
‘Yes, yes, yes,” I cry, as I pull his mouth to mine, devouring the taste of his lips that I’ve missed so much.
He slowly crumbles to the floor, dropping the flowers to the side as he sits down in the middle of the lobby and holds me in his arms. We stay that way for a while. I just want to savor his nearness, without talking.
“What about him? Will he want me to come home?” he murmurs quietly, breaking the silence.
I force myself to swallow. “Yes, of course he does.”
“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, Isabel. And I realized that the night I watched you two together, I saw something I should have seen a long time ago. It wasn’t about jealousy—it was about watching the two people I love, together. I do love you both.”
Emotion builds in my throat, stinging as I try to swallow again. “I love you both too,” I whisper.
“I also realized…that if I can’t have you both…” His voice trails as he takes a heavy inhale, preparing himself to say whatever is weighing on his mind. I brace myself for the rest. “If I can’t have you both, I’d rather you have each other.”
“Hunter…” I whisper.
“I do hope you two have used this time to be happy together, Isabel. I just hope…there’s still room for me.”
I grab his face, kissing him fiercely on the lips. “There will always be room for you. We are nothing without you, and I know Drake feels the same. He wants to see you accept yourself as much as he wants to see you accept him.”
“I came out to the team,” he says, and I pause, staring at him in shock.
“Umm…how did it go?”
He laughs. “Fine. They didn’t even seem surprised.”
“Because loving Drake doesn’t make you any different, Hunter. You’ve always loved him, but now you’re just expressing it differently.”
“We really should have done this sooner, shouldn’t we?” he asks, and I feel myself melting again. I forgot how natural it felt in his arms.
“Yeah…that would have saved us both a lot of jealousy, always watching him go home with different strangers every night.”
As Hunter runs a hand through my hair, he pulls me closer, kissing me again, as if he’s just as desperate for my touch as I am for his. When our mouths part, he stares into my eyes.
“I am yours, Red. I’m sorry for leaving, but I needed to be the perfect man for you. Even if it kills me. Even if it drives me crazy. I would do anything for you.”
“I understand,” I whisper. “I missed you like crazy, but I’m proud of you. And I don’t need you to be perfect. I just need you to be here.”
“I still have a lot of work to do. It’s not over yet, but I’m ready to start this crazy relationship…if you’re both ready too.”
I love this new version of my husband, where he expresses himself and speaks from the heart. And seeing the raw emotion in his eyes is more than enough for me.
“So, now what?” I ask, kissing him again.
After a long, hungry embrace that leaves us both breathless and desperate for each other, he pulls away and gives me a serious expression. “Now, we go find Drake.”
I happen to know exactly where Drake is tonight. Being it’s Friday night, he’s at the club, the only day every week that he spends there. And not for the same reasons he used to. Three months ago, you could find Drake at the club every night, with a different person.
But now, he only goes once a week for one person.
Silla has taken up semi-permanent residency at Salacious since her one-week event turned into a two-week, then a two-month, and now…I don’t think she’s ever going back. So now she teaches her Shibari demo every Friday night with a certain blond hunk by her side. The two of them have gotten really good, actually.
And as Hunter and I slip into the back of the room undetected, we’re met with the oohs and aahs of the crowd as Silla hangs, suspended in midair, tied up into a little round ball. The apple red cord against her dark, tawny skin is even more stunning than the rope bondage usually is. She looks exquisite as the crowd and Drake look on in awe.
But when Hunter gasps next to me, I have a feeling it has more to do with Drake’s appearance than the feat of the woman floating in the air held by nothing but thin rope.
“What did he do to his hair?” Hunter whispers.
“There was no stopping him. He wanted us both to look different for you.”
Glancing at my husband, I can’t help but notice the expression of attraction on his face as his gaze absorbs the man on stage.
“I like it,” he whispers.
I’m admiring how handsome Drake is with his new buzz cut, which somehow makes his smile look brighter and his frame appear taller—because he wasn’t beautiful enough before—when I spot the moment he notices Hunter standing in the back of the room.
It’s a little unfair now that I think about it. When Hunter showed up at my studio, I was alone, and nothing stopped me from running into his arms. Drake is busy spotting Silla and ensuring her safety, so he’s stuck on stage with her. And you can tell by the way he’s fidgeting and how his wide-eyed expression keeps drifting toward us that he’s anxiously awaiting the moment to do the same.
Not even a minute later, he’s helping her down, undoing her ropes carefully, so she doesn’t fall. The crowd claps for them, and Drake doesn’t waste a second.
Bounding off the stage, he bolts across the room toward us. His arms go wide to bring Hunter in for a hug, but Hunter doesn’t take the hug. Instead, he grabs for Drake’s neck, and fiercely pulls him in for a rough kiss. Their mouths fuse together, and I notice the brief look of shock on Drake’s face before he melts into the kiss, pressing Hunter against the wall, letting his body express just how much he missed him.
