“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” Celeste tells me as we pull up in front of her parents’ house.
I grin at her and throw her an amused look. “And risk you telling your mom that I’m too busy stuffing my hands in cow shit? No fucking way, Celeste.”
She bites back a smile, and I turn in my seat, my gaze roaming over the pink dress she’s wearing. “Besides, didn’t we decide we weren’t going to be unhappy any longer? Things will never be the way they used to be, but until we divorce, we could…” I hesitate, unable to find the right words, and she nods in understanding.
“Co-exist?” my wife fills in, even though that’s not quite right either.
“Something like that.”
Celeste has started to come to so many Windsor events with me lately that it wouldn’t be fair if I didn’t return the favor. If I’m truly honest, though, it’s hardly any effort to see her family. I love being around them, and each time I see them, it feels like my relationship with them improves a little more.
Celeste smiles at me, and fuck if it doesn’t make my heart skip a beat. I sigh and reach for her, twirling one of her curls around my finger as I lose myself in her eyes. Lately, she’s been looking at me the way she used to, and it’s intoxicating. When she smiles at me, it’s like the past disappears, and all that exists is the moment she’s trapped me in. I’d be lying if I said I’m not scared that this is all another act, but at the same time, I know I’ll take whatever she gives me. It’s pathetic, but I can’t help it.
“We’d better go inside,” I murmur. “Your mom is quite terrifying. I’m honestly scared to be even a minute late.”
Celeste bursts out laughing, and I grin back at her before getting out of the car and jogging around it to open the door for her. The way she looks up at me when I offer her my hand brightens up my whole day, and my heart beats just a little faster as I entwine our fingers. Even if this is all just an illusion, even if it can’t last, I want this with her. It’s foolish, and I know it, but I can’t help myself when it comes to her. I never could.
My wife pulls me through her parents’ house, the sound of laughter beckoning us toward the living room. “There you are!” Archer says, smiling up at both of us. My eyes widen in surprise, and Celeste lets go of me to hug her brother, an excited squeal escaping her lips when he lifts her off the floor.
I smile at them despite the odd ache in my chest. It’s strange to be standing here, right where I always wanted to be — Celeste was always the woman of my dreams, and Archer was the best friend I never got to have as a Windsor. I’ve got both of them back in my life, but at the same time, I don’t. Not really. It’s such a jarring feeling, and I try my hardest to push it aside.
“What are you doing here?” Celeste asks, pulling back to look at him.
Archer smiles at her, but I notice the way his eyes roam over her face in barely disguised concern. He looks at me and smiles tightly. “Promised Zane a drink,” he says. He’s wondering if I’ll keep the promise he asked for when I married Celeste, and it’s obvious he’s worried about his sister.
Celeste’s gaze travels between the two of us, her expression betraying her curiosity, and I can’t help but smile when she looks into my eyes. I shake my head gently, answering her unspoken question, reassuring her that there’s nothing to worry about. It occurs to me then — we’re doing what we used to, communicating silently. When did we start doing that again?
Things have been different between us ever since we got back from the conference. We’re spending more time with each other now — most nights, we have dinner together and spend the evening talking and watching TV, like we used to. We go to bed together, and each night, I’ll pull her against me, and she’ll tip her head up, her gaze pleading for a kiss. It never stops at a mere kiss, and I always end up waking up with her hair in my face.
Our little ceasefire feels precarious, and it often feels like we’re walking on eggshells around each other, both of us carefully avoiding any topic that could upset the other. It’s no way to live, but fuck, I wish it could last forever.
“Before you three start drinking and disappear,” Clara says, holding up a deck of cards. “We’ll play! With real cards this time, since Archer is home.”
Celeste throws me an excited look, and I grin as I sink into what I’ve come to consider my spot on the sofa. My wife sits down next to me, her thigh pressed against mine and my arm on the back of the sofa, behind her.
George nods at me. “You staying over, son? It’s not often that Archer and you are both here.”
I glance at him, never any less surprised that he welcomed me back into his family so easily after everything I did to them. For years, I did all I could to push them to the brink of bankruptcy, never quite pushing them over the edge, but never allowing them to truly recover either. Yet sitting here, it’s like none of that ever happened, like the past truly can just be that — the past.
Celeste places her hand on my knee and looks up at me, a hint of concern flickering through her beautiful amber eyes. “We don’t have to,” she says, and my heart skips a beat as I tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear before nodding at my father-in-law.
My wife smiles at me so sweetly my heart wrenches, and I grin back at her, unable to help myself. I know this is foolish, and I should put a stop to the feelings that continue to grow, but fuck, I just don’t want to. I’d rather deal with the eventual pain when she inevitably lets me down again than not have these moments at all.
We begin to play one of the games that Archer, George, and I spent many hours inventing over far too many bottles of whiskey, all because we could never beat the girls at any of the games they chose. The three of us share conspiratorial looks, only to find ourselves losing to Celeste and Clara. “Maybe we’re out of practice,” I mutter, shrugging.
Archer narrows his eyes and points a finger at his sister. “You’re cheating.”
My wife looks up at him innocently — too innocently. “How could I possibly? I barely even understand this game. Didn’t you make up the rules yourself?”
Archer stares at her, and then he glances at me, his brow raised. “Zane, you’re sitting right next to her. She’s cheating, isn’t she?”
I glance at my wife, who looks at me like she’s daring me to side with Archer, and I bite back a smile as I place my hand on her thigh, subtly pushing the card she hid under her skirt further out of view. Celeste’s lips part in shock, and I try my hardest to stifle my laughter. Did she really think I wouldn’t notice?
Her eyes are wide with panic as I dip my head down to hers, my lips brushing against her ear. “My silence will cost you,” I warn her.
She bites down on her lip and turns her face, her nose brushing against mine as she leans in to whisper into my ear. “Don’t say a thing, and when we go to bed tonight… I’ll suck you off just the way you like it, letting you push all the way down my throat. I’ll let you fuck my face until you come, and I’ll swallow every last drop.”
Fuck. Fuck. Just like that, my cock hardens, right in her parents’ living room. I squirm, my face no doubt heated as she pulls away with the most innocent look in her eyes. I drape my arm over my lap strategically and straighten my spine. It used to be like this between us, and the way we’re slowly falling back into everything that made us us is fucking exhilarating.
“I asked her, and she didn’t cheat,” I tell Archer.
He stares at me in disbelief. “You… asked her,” he repeats, his expression rapidly becoming stormy as he looks between the two of us. “This is some bullshit,” he says, throwing his cards down on the table in mock anger, when there’s no malice in his expression at all. Clara bursts out laughing, and George sends me an exasperated yet amused look.
“You,” Archer says as he rises to his feet and throws me a pointed look. “Let’s go have a drink.”
“You’re such a sore loser,” Celeste teases, and I bite back a smile, squeezing her knee briefly before getting up to follow Archer. George gets up too, and Celeste moves to rest her head against her mother’s shoulder, her eyes following me as I move through the room. I smile at her before walking out, my heart feeling whole for the first time in years.
Both men are quiet as we head to George’s office, and I sit down in my usual seat, ready for the questions I know they’ll have. “Looks like you’ll keep that promise after all,” Archer says, his tone calm and collected, none of his earlier supposed outrage present. If anything, he looks relieved. “She looks happier than I’ve seen her in years. When I spoke to her a few weeks ago, she’d seemed really sad, and I’d been so worried that I booked a flight. I’m glad my worries were unwarranted.”
I think back to the way she cried herself to sleep a couple of weeks ago, and the nightmares I can’t always wake her from. Those things have brought us closer, but they’re also stark reminders of what stands between us. “It’s not easy,” I admit, my voice soft.
“No marriage is, son,” George says as he pours me a drink. “But the good parts are worth it, aren’t they?”
I smile to myself, unable to deny it. “Yeah,” I murmur, raising my glass to my lips. “She’s worth it.”
