by DC Renee
He captured my lips as one of his hands found its way inside my pants, his finger grazing just above my lips, and I almost came just like that.
“Lise,” he whispered hoarsely before one of his fingers plunged inside me. In and out, in and out, before he tore himself away. “No,” he said. “We’re playing out my scenario.”
And we did, and it was bliss. And I didn’t think about the oddness or the plausibility of the locked office door after that again. And he never locked it again.
NOLAN’S FAMILY HAD welcomed me with open arms. Not just his dad and Lily, but everyone from aunts, uncles, and cousins, to relatives three or four times removed. I loved how close his extended family was. He might have been an only child without a mother, but the love of those extended family members helped ease the pain, I’m sure. The love between everyone was palpable.
And they had plenty of family gatherings, even before we were married or even engaged. The first time he took me to his uncle’s house for a family dinner, I was absolutely overwhelmed. The largest family gathering I’d ever had on my side was roughly twenty folks, and that was my extended family. His family dinner was a giant potluck for around seventy people.
To Nolan’s credit, he did warn me.
“My family can be a bit much,” he’d told me beforehand. “There are a lot of them, and they’re rowdy, noisy, and completely in your face. They’ll pester you with a million questions. I’ll try to run interference as much as I can, but you don’t have to answer anything.”
Even with his warning, it was still a shock to see so many smiling faces interacting as one big cohesive unit, and this was just dinner. “I can’t imagine what a wedding looks like,” I said as we walked in.
“This, but triple and on steroids,” he responded with a laugh.
Which was completely true of our wedding, and it probably didn’t help with my stress level.
True to Nolan’s word, his family interrogated me, but it didn’t have a negative connotation. It was more like I was a mystery novel, and they were trying to get to the last page as quickly as possible. His aunts—some of which I learned were actually his parents’ cousins, but he called them aunts anyway—tried to get me to eat everything and then some. His cousins tried to regale me with funny Nolan stories while others tried to figure out what I was doing with “this clown.”
It had been a wonderful experience. “Everyone loved you,” Nolan told me after. “I can’t tell you how many members of my family came up to me to ask me how I snagged such a catch.” We laughed at that, and every family gathering since that first time was just as great. I had been part of his family before we’d even actually been a family.
Yet the first time I felt like I wasn’t family was after we were actually married—irony at its finest.
Nolan had gone on a business trip, which he did occasionally, always leaving me missing him.
While he was gone, one of his aunts decided to have a dinner and invited me, of course. Initially, I hadn’t planned on going. As much as I loved his family, and as much as they included me as one of their own, it was still me going to Nolan’s family event without Nolan.
“It’s up to you, Lise, but no one sees you as anything but family. If that’s your worry, then stop, and go, and have fun.”
“I don’t know,” I told him, still unsure.
“Well, like I said, it’s your choice.” We talked for a few more minutes with him telling me how much he missed me.
We said our goodbyes, and within a minute after we hung up, I got a call from his aunt.
“You’re coming, and that’s final,” she said by way of hello. I laughed in response.
It took less than one minute for her to tell me I was going, no convincing required.
The first half of dinner was great, same as usual, which mostly consisted of me helping in the kitchen for a bit before taking time to talk to some of the women my age. Then I got the customary, “When are you going to have kids?” question from some of the older generations.
Nolan always answered, “Practicing.” I didn’t think they got it, which made it even more hilarious. They probably viewed it as “trying,” which made them smile happily and made us cover our laughter with coughs.
I somehow found myself in the middle of some of Nolan’s cousins toward the end of dinner.
“I hate when Rick is gone,” one of the wives, Vanessa, said. “I get so worried, and I don’t like it until he’s home safe and sound with me.”
“Oh?” I asked, cutting in. “Did he go to Europe with Nolan?”
Like most of Nolan’s family, Rick worked in the family business.
She laughed momentarily, as did one of the other wives, while another one looked at me funny, but I couldn’t make out her expression.
“Yeah, Europe,” she said, her tone almost condescending. “Very dangerous over there. Pickpockets and such. And the flight too. Just gets me so worried.” I didn’t miss her sarcasm.
“Yes, right,” I said, completely caught off guard by Vanessa’s tone and words. She was mocking me, but I honestly didn’t understand why.
And somehow, without me even realizing it, I was booted from the conversation.
For the first time, I was an outsider, and I didn’t understand what I’d done to deserve it. I made my way inside, stunned and saddened, and found a quiet spot to sit. I only had a few minutes alone to think before Nolan’s aunt found me, but it was long enough to realize that once again, Nolan’s work was a mystery to me, but clearly, it wasn’t to the other wives. Why couldn’t I know what he did for a living? Why did Vanessa and the other wives make it seem like I was a small child who’d been fed a bedtime story? I felt like Little Red Riding Hood finding out for the first time that big, bad wolves truly existed in the real world. What the hell was going on?
“Missing Nolan?” his aunt asked, seeing my sullen expression.
“Yes,” I replied, not wanting to tell her what had truly occurred.
“He’ll be home tomorrow, no?” she asked.
“Yep.”
“Good, good,” she said and nodded. “Come, Annalise. No use sitting around being sad. We have chocolate cake and wine. If that doesn’t cheer you up, I don’t know what will.”
Her genuine smile, her true care, and her attempt to cheer me up did just that. I smiled back and stood, allowing her to wrap an arm around me as she pulled me into the kitchen and then poured us each a glass of wine.
Then she doled out two generous portions of cake before starting to talk to me about everything and nothing at the same time. She made me feel like family once again, and I was able to forget the incident with Vanessa. I ended up leaving the dinner on a happy note, thanks to Nolan’s aunt, but I vowed to talk to Nolan about it the next day when he came home … only, I had been so happy to have him back, I forgot. When I did remember, it was so far gone, I didn’t want to bring up any negativities. I figured it was just a small misstep, and I’d let it slide.
So I did, and things were great after that. I was back to being family, and that was what mattered the most.
I WAS EITHER truly oblivious before Nolan and I got married, happy in my ignorant little love-filled bubble, or things changed after we said our “I do’s.” Maybe Nolan got lax, or maybe I truly didn’t see the things I saw before.
Aside from the concerns I’d already mentioned, there were other little things, things I couldn’t even quite put my finger on that didn’t feel right. Like how conversations sometimes came to a sudden halt when I walked into the room, which Nolan would follow up by flashing me a smile, giving me a kiss, and then continuing his phone call in the other room. Or how Vanessa and those other wives looked at me funny sometimes. She was never outright bitchy to me again, but I got the distinct impression she felt like she was superior to me. And the one wife who had given me some sort of look before always seemed to look at me with pity. Was she just feeling bad for the way Vanessa acted toward me?
There were a few other inconseque
ntial things, but I’d never come out and talked to Nolan about these things because I wasn’t even entirely sure what these things were. I was probably just being paranoid.
It wasn’t like I was suddenly in a horrible, loveless marriage. Quite the opposite. Things were great. Whoever said sex diminished once you were married was clearly never married. It was actually off the charts. The positions, the places, the things we were too timid or too reserved to try before being married? We most definitely tried then. Something about making love to your other half made it that much better.
A level of security also existed that hadn’t been there before. Not to say that we weren’t secure before it was official, but something just clicked after. It was all the little things too. It was the cuddling on the couch, him taking care of me while I was sick, buying me the shoes I side-eyed in the store window. It was reaching for me for comfort when he cried on the anniversary of his mother’s death, the random text messages telling me he missed me, bringing tissues when I cried after my favorite fictional character died. It was even making sure the coffee was done in the mornings.
It was so much more.
Those were the things that made me fall more and more in love with him each day. It wasn’t the grand holidays we took or the fancy dinners we attended. Although, I loved those moments too, but they were just a bonus of being with Nolan.
Our true love story was simply being with each other.
And all those little things I couldn’t quite shake, they were inconsequential in the grand scheme of our life together. Like every couple, there were going to be days the other person annoyed you or even upset you. You either brushed it off or fought about it. Sometimes, we fought, but we always made up, and there was always make-up sex.
But like most people, we picked our battles, things that truly upset us. Like when Nolan was on a business trip one time, and I hadn’t heard from him all day.
“I don’t expect you to check in with me all day, but you could have at least texted to tell me you are all right,” I told him when I finally talked to him.
“You’re overreacting, Lise,” he responded with a sigh.
“I’m not,” I told him angrily. “But even if I was … wouldn’t you rather have a wife that cared than one who didn’t? I thought you cared too,” I added.
“It’s not like that,” he countered. “You’re asking too much.”
That response didn’t go over well. In fact, it led to an argument. In the end, we both conceded—I had to understand business and time zones factored into communication, and he had to understand I was worried.
That was something I felt needed to be voiced, but these stupid feelings I had occasionally? Yeah, they were the things I brushed aside.
Nolan never knew, and overall, we were in happily married bliss. Honeymoon stage in full effect. I loved my husband. I loved our life together. I loved us. Period. And I couldn’t have been happier if I tried.
“HAPPY ANNIVERSARY, LISE,” Nolan said as he came up behind me, wrapping his arms around my shoulders and burying his head in my neck, trailing little kisses at the same time.
We were at a beautiful resort in the Dominican Republic, having done nothing but enjoy the sun, sand, and each other for the past few days.
“How the heck do I top that?” I’d asked Nolan when he told me a month ago that we were going on vacation for our one year wedding anniversary. He had even checked with my boss before booking to make sure the timing was all right for me to take off. So then why didn’t he just wait and spring the surprise on me? Because he said he had wanted to build the anticipation. And he was right. It was a little adventure to look forward to. He even said things like, “Ready to lounge around and do nothing but celebrate the fact you haven’t kicked me to the curb for a whole year?”
“It’s not one year yet,” I’d always joke. “I still have time to do just that.”
“Oh, really?” he’d say with a gleam in his eye as he prowled toward me. I’d run, and he’d give chase. He’d win, of course, then scoop me up in his arms and kiss me senseless. We were really a sickeningly wonderful couple, and the closer we got to our one year anniversary, the more we acted like love-sick teenagers. It was a milestone neither of us had any doubts we’d cross off our list, but it was still a grand feat to celebrate. And I couldn’t think of a better way to celebrate than somewhere where it would be just me and him.
“You don’t top it,” Nolan had said. “This is as much my present as it is yours.” He kissed me then but pulled away just a moment later. “On second thought, bring that little red bikini with you. That’s how you can top this,” he said with a wink. The little red bikini was something Nolan had bought for me, and I had yet to wear it because I was basically naked. Forget the fact I was self-conscious, I knew he hadn’t intended for me to wear it around anyone we knew, but strangers we’d never see again at an island resort far away from home … okay, that I could do.
“Deal,” I conceded and grabbed his shirt to pull him back in for a kiss.
I ended up getting him a new iPad because honestly, he had basically everything else, and even though he already had an iPad, he liked all those gadgets. Sure enough, he appreciated it. But what he loved more was the sentimental gift I’d given to him bright and early the morning of our anniversary. I’d put together a small photo album with a picture of us from every single month of our marriage, twelve in total, and I’d written a poem, placing a few lines of it by every picture. Twelve Reasons for Twelve Months, I’d titled it.
And it was twelve reasons I loved him even though there were far more than just the twelve I’d listed.
There was a candid picture of him hugging me from one of his aunt’s barbecues. And by it, it said:
Because you hug so tight,
Making me feel safe and right.
There was a picture of us standing by a kayak just before we’d strolled around the ocean, and effectively became lobsters because we hadn’t applied enough sunscreen. And by it, it said:
Because we experience life together,
Even when we should have known better.
Nolan had laughed out loud when he read that, knowing full well what I was referring to. We hadn’t been able to even touch the sheets that night because our bodies hurt from the sunburns we’d gotten.
He read through the poem, each couple of lines coinciding perfectly with a picture from each month. I watched as his face took on a look of pure joy, pure happiness, pure love when he closed the album.
Instead of telling me with words how much he loved the gift, he showed me by grabbing my face in his hands and bringing me to him so that his lips bruised mine with the force of his kiss, with the force of his love. I straddled him, wrapping my arms around him as my core found his length. Neither of us had bothered sleeping in clothes thus far, and I was wet and ready, wanting him like I always did, but especially at that moment from the impact of his reaction to my simple but thoughtful gift.
He slid in slowly, easily, like he was made for me, and he fit perfectly, my pussy adjusting naturally. He groaned into my mouth but didn’t break the kiss, and I began to move slowly up and down, his hips moving in time with mine, meeting me up when I pushed down to send an extra bolt of friction.
The urgency of our tongues didn’t match our bodies. Our kiss was frantic, needy, and showing how much passion we contained for each other while our bodies took time to enjoy and savor each movement, each in and out, each up and down. It wasn’t sex; it was love. It was hot and needy, it was slow and sensual, and it was everything in between. I knew he could feel when I was reaching my peak because he pulled away. His lips leaving mine, I missed his warmth for just a fraction of a second until I opened my eyes, and I watched him watching me. There was so much emotion in his eyes, so much of just everything as he stared into my eyes, his hips still moving to match mine, his hands still framing my face.
And that was how we came, together, eyes locked, bodies intertwined, love on full blast.
At some point, we got up and started our day. But we’d come back to the room for a midday nap, and I woke up a few minutes before, made my way to the balcony, and just enjoyed watching the ocean below. The calm lapping of the waves was in sync with my heart.
Nolan found me like that and wrapped his arms around me.
I reveled in the moment, enjoying his arms around me, always enjoying his arms around me.
I turned to face him, still in his embrace, but looser so I could stare up into his handsome face.
“I love you, Nolan. So much.” I’d said those words to him a thousand times, but somehow, right now, they meant more.
“I know, Lise,” he said, but told me between the lines that he understood just how strong those words were at that moment. “Because I feel the same way. So much.” He echoed my own words to me.
We’d made it to our one year anniversary. We’d made it past the stupid fights, past the business trips, past his bitchy cousins, even past my awkward and unacknowledged feelings. I knew then we’d be all right, and whatever might come, we’d get past that too. If only we could have stayed in our beautiful, happy little bubble, then we’d get past whatever might come. If only …
THINGS CHANGED AFTER our one year anniversary trip in a good way. All those strange feelings I had during that first year of marriage? Yeah, after our anniversary and that time spent alone, those feelings went away. Maybe I’d been reading too much into things before, maybe I’d seen too many dramas, or maybe, just maybe I’d gone back into my ignorant bliss bubble.
And I was happy, truly happy, just as I’d been all along, but this time, it was somehow a bit more magnified.
Things stayed that way for a good two months.
