I sit, pulling my feet under me. “Heath and I are in a good place right now. We’ve been getting along, talking about life and things other than the mundane stuff. The kids seem happy. I think Charlie is a bit more confident because things at the house are going so well.”
“Are you going to continue to stay there?”
I nod, “I’m moving home.”
He gives me a genuine smile, making his eyes sparkle. “That’s great, Whitney. I’m not going to say I’m not bummed. I liked having you around but ever since Heath had his heart attack, I’ve seen you be the wife you’re meant to be. You’ve put those kid and your husband first while keeping true to yourself. No questions asked. Looking from the outside in, you’d never know that you two were separated.”
“Thanks, Liam. I’m sure we’ll still have our ups and downs, and I know there are going to be setbacks, but I feel it in my gut that this is the right thing to do. It’s the right time to take back my marriage.”
School’s been dismissed for two hours now, and I’m still buried in a pile of papers that’s taken over my desk. This is why I can’t stand to take time off. The subs come in here without any consideration since it’s not really their class. These papers should have been graded and filed in each student’s file, but instead, they’ve been piling up. I can’t believe I haven’t had a parent reach out to me, asking about their student’s grades because that hasn’t been updated in weeks. I physically growl out in frustration.
“Whoa there, tiger.”
My head snaps up, and I see the last person I expected to see–Heath. I push from my chair, striding over to him. I wrap my arms around him and rest my head on his chest. I take a moment to listen to the thump of his heart.
“What’s wrong?” I turn my head, resting my chin on his chest so I can look up to him. “Why are you here?”
He chuckles as he gives my body a squeeze. “A man has one heart attack and the first thing people ask when they see him is if something’s wrong.” He shakes his head, “Everything with me is fine, Whit. I’m here about you.”
I take a step back, crossing my hands over my chest. “What do you mean, this is about me?”
“I spent the afternoon with Steve.”
“Yes, I know. I was there this morning when you made the plans, remember? You and Steve were supposed to have lunch.” I bring my hand up and fiddle with my necklace. I’m unsure of where this is going.
“Yes. He took me to the office too. I wanted to show my face. Get some things from the office that I need at home.”
“All right… Still not sure what this has to do with me.”
“He informed me that you let the New York publishing deal go.”
I can feel the color drop from my face because I now know I have to tell him the truth. I was going to sugar coat it when the time came. I don’t want him to feel guilty for my decision because, ultimately, it was mine. Harold was more than willing to extend my option, again. He told me during one conversation that he’d fly my editor out to work with me for a few days, but I couldn’t do it.
I clear my throat before I make an effort to speak. “Yes, that’s right.” I choose this time to take a seat, needing more space between Heath and me. I try to distract myself with the papers that I’m mindlessly straightening.
“Why?”
This entire thing is coming out of left field for me. In the past, Heath never approached me on things when it came to my writing. He always acted like it didn’t exist. I know this is him being more in tune with the things that matter to me, but I’m a bit shocked that he’s showing this much concern about a decision I made when we weren’t technically together.
I bite the inside of my cheek as I continue to fiddle with the papers. “It wasn’t the right time for me,” I finally say.
“Why?” he asks again.
I swallow down the emotion so that I can talk to him about this without any reaction on my part. I don’t need him pissed off at himself. “Listen, they needed too much from me in too little of time. I’m a teacher first before I’m an author, and they hit me with everything in the middle of the school year. Then–”
“Then I had a heart attack.” His eyes stay fixed on me while he waits for my response.
I push from my chair, coming around to him. “It wasn’t just about your heart attack, Heath.”
“Don’t, Whitney. Don’t do that, don’t make excuses. You stepped up like you always do, and you put me before you. I see you continuing to do that with the kids, but you shouldn’t have done that when it came to me. I could have hired someone to help if you had other priorities.”
“You’re a priority.”
“The priority that you feel towards me is the reason why you left in the first place. You told me you weren’t happy. That we weren’t happy and I know it’s because most of the time I didn’t see the things that you needed from me. I needed to put you first, and I never did. You need to learn to you put yourself first and I thought you did. You moved out. Started a life and you learned to do you. But the very first time I’m in crisis, you stopped living your life, and you began to live my life. Again.”
“It’s because I love you!” I holler. “And I’d do it again.” Intense feelings of emotion overcome me, and the tears fall from my eyes. “I’d put my life on hold again,” I sniff, “if it means having you here with me, with the kids,” I cry.
He stands, wrapping his arms around me. “Shh, baby,” he whispers “It’s all right.” My body shakes as the tears flow. “Whit, baby, you need to call that publisher guy and see if you can still make it happen.”
“I don’t want to,” I whine.
I can feel Heath’s chest rumble with laughter. “Yeah, babe, I’m sure you don’t, but you need to. We both know you’ve got what it takes. We both know you deserve this shot and I’m not going to allow you to miss it.”
Three Months Later…
My fingers dance along the plastic of the keyboard. With every click, my heart beats a little faster. It does this every time I write dark scenes. It doesn’t matter if they’re dark, kinky sex or a gruesome torture scene. I can feel my heart race with anticipation. My lips press together into a thin line as my fingers continue to race to type the words that are rolling from my mind. I love it when I’m no longer here in the present but inside the story that I’m writing. I love when I feel as though I’m no longer writing the words, but living them.
“You know how fucking sexy you look right now?” Heath growls from my office doorway.
Taking a break, I push my keyboard back, along the glass top of my desk. “You think this looks sexy? I have on day old clothes, and I think I have a family of rats living in my hair.” I tighten the messy bun that’s sitting on the top of my head. “If you come closer, you might get bit.”
“I’ll take my chances.” Heath stalks towards me with hunger in his eyes. This is how it’s been for the past month, and I love it. Our sex is no longer calculated or planned out. It’s spontaneous, and it makes me feel like we’re in our twenties again. There’s something about doing the physical act with the emotion of it is so tangible. We had that fire in the bedroom for so long, but somewhere along the way, like most married couples, we lost it. I know how lucky I am that we found that spark again.
The desire to want to be with each other, to enjoy each other.
Maybe to even like each other as people again.
He doesn’t say another word before he bends down, nuzzling my neck. He knows all my spots. He’s studied them, and he’s now a pro. The sharpness of his teeth bite into my skin, and it makes my core squeeze. My head falls to the side as he continues to nip at my neck. Sliding his hands under my thighs, he lifts me up without hesitation before placing me on the rounded reading chair in the corner of my office.
He doesn’t waste any time before he’s tugging my shorts from my legs. “Heath,” I moan as I arch my back off the chair, giving him ample opportunity to pull the cotton shirt over my head.
; Before I know it, he has my legs thrown over his shoulder, and his tongue licks my center. He buries his face deeper before taking my clit into his mouth applying just enough pressure to shoot heavenly pleasure through my body. “So fucking good,” he says as he pulls back. He bites the inside of my thigh before he continues to feast.
“Every. Single. Time.”
I scrape my fingers through the thickness of his hair as he continues to devour me. All thoughts of my deadline are gone. The only thing that consumes me is my husband between my legs, giving me pleasure that the gods themselves would die for. With another swipe of his skilled tongue, I fall over the edge as my orgasm rushes through me. The rolling of pleasure causes my toes to curl and my eyes to roll back. A moan rips through my throat, thankful my kids are out with friends.
“Baby,” I sigh.
I feel Heath’s hands grip my hips as he pulls me down the chair, towards him. Peeling my eyes open I see his mouth wet… With me. He licks his lips and then gives me a beaming smile.
“You’re like a fine wine, babe. You only get better with age.”
“Oh my God,” I groan as I smack him on the shoulder. “You are ridiculous.”
“But you love me just the same.”
My heart flutters at his words. “Yes, Heath, I do love you. That won’t ever change.”
He leans in, offering me his mouth, which I happily take. The taste of myself on his lip causes my insides to clench. My legs wrap around his waist, tighten around him, bringing him closer.
“Babe, you have a book to finish.”
He’s right, I do.
I took Heath’s advice and called Harold. I didn’t want to beg for a second chance, I felt that my books were worth more than that, but I had been completely wrong with how Harold responded. He was excited that I decided to give it another go. As soon as I signed with Slater Publishing, Harold ran with the first book in my series. Once he got a feel for how the public was taking to it, he had me start on book two. That’s what I’m working on now.
“The only thing I have to finish is you.”
“By all means…”
My name is Whitney James.
I’m a wife, a mother, a teacher and a writer. I may be an intelligent individual, but I’ve rarely considered myself smart. It has taken me forty-one years to figure out what’s important. It’s taken me this long to earn my voice and speak up for the things I want and need. I’ve learned that even though you may think your eyes are open, they might be closed. Love isn’t anything we should take for granted, and if we do, and we lose it then it serves us right. If we think our love isn’t worth the battle, then your happiness won’t be worth the war.
Life is hard.
Marriage is harder.
It takes a lot of determination, strength, understanding, and communication to make it work. It might have taken me two decades to figure it out, but at least I did. And it’s better late than never.
Torrie Robles was born and raised in the Central Valley of California; a perfect spot in the state since she’s only hours away from the coast, the beautiful mountains and the big named cities. She currently lives a short distance from her hometown of Clovis, in a small community known as The Madera Ranchos. She’s married and has three children, two boys and one girl. She also has seven animals that live with her family on their property. She’s a city girl living in the country, but not too far from the hustle and bustle of the life, she grew up knowing.
Torrie obtained her Bachelor’s Degree in Healthcare Administration, but her passion has always been writing. A dream she felt was always out of her reach, until she was introduced to the Indie Community. 2015 marked the year she became a self-published author. She writes contemporary romance and plans to branch out as her career takes off. She is currently working on several different manuscripts. She hopes to have them all finished and published throughout her career while continuing to develop new stories and characters to fall in love with.
When she isn’t working a full-time job, writing, raising her children or just taking care of life, Torrie’s biggest hobby is getting lost in books. Her passion for reading and the authors she looks up to has allowed her to make her dreams come true. Her fellow authors have truly been her inspiration.
Take 2 on Love Page 22
