Bittersweet Surrender

by Q. B. Tyler

  “For letting this go on for so long…” I sniffle. “For falling in love with you. For letting you fall in love with me. It would be so much easier to walk away from you if I didn’t…” I look away from his gaze having realized what I said.

  “Say the words, Charlotte,” he says so quietly that I almost miss them.

  “I…I love you,” I say, the tears pouring from my eyes and landing on my sweatshirt. “I love you so much that…that I have no idea how I could possibly give you up. And I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I know in my heart that I want to be with you. You’re it for me, Will. I just…I have to figure out where to go from here.” I finally look up into his eyes and I’m met with the most beautiful shade of blue. I’ve never seen Will cry before and maybe he won’t actually shed a tear but his eyes are glassy and I see them brimming under his lids. “I’m scared,” I whisper, my fears roaring loudly in my head.

  “Charlotte,” he whispers back, and then his lips find mine. His kisses are gentle, soft, and loving. “I love you so much. I would do anything in the world for you—so either of us walking away from this…it would kill me,” he says against my mouth, before he pulls away to pepper kisses down my face and neck. They’re so light and sensual that I almost combust from the sweetness of it. “Don’t be scared, Charley. I’ll keep you safe. Every part of you. Especially your heart.”

  I roll my neck to the side giving him more access as I sink further down on him allowing for direct contact between our pelvises. He groans when he feels the warmth of what’s under my shorts straddling him. Only his slacks and my thin shorts keeping us from the touching of our most favorite parts. “I need to be inside of you. I need to feel you. Every inch of you,” he says as he presses a kiss over my sweatshirt directly over my heart.

  I look around and he moves his seat back into the reclining position and although it’s not the most comfortable I couldn’t care less. I’m with the man I love, and right now, in this moment, we are all that matters. I move back into my seat so that I can pull my shoes, shorts, and underwear off opting to leave my sweatshirt on in case someone happens to pass by.

  Right, like it’ll matter if you’re riding a man’s lap who is not your husband.

  I ignore my subconscious, knowing that I need Will’s touch so bad, in this moment, I probably wouldn’t care if Matt himself walked by.

  I climb back into his lap and his hands wrap around my waist instantly pulling me to his chest as I slide down on him. I sigh feeling content as I haven’t had him inside of me since he left my house on Friday almost three days ago.

  I hate this.

  I don’t move, and neither does he, we just stay like this relishing in the feeling of this intimate position. I nuzzle my face in his neck before my mouth finds his and we begin to kiss, slowly mirroring our moves below the waist as I start to move up and down on him. I break the kiss, wanting the eye contact more, and I stare at the most beautiful man that has trusted me with his heart. I’m overcome with emotion as I feel my orgasm building and see the emotion in him as well. “Will,” I say, my eyes never leaving his. I’m too afraid to even blink for fear I’ll miss what I think his eyes are telling me.

  I love you.

  I’ll never leave you.

  It will be okay.

  I’m here.

  “I know, baby. I’m right there with you.”

  “It’s so much,” I say wanting to be even closer to him. “I can’t breathe.” But the thought doesn’t scare me. It revives me. And I haven’t felt this alive ever. “I’m going to come,” I say quietly, “but…you knew that.”

  He smiles that smile I fell in love with all those months ago, that dimple poking out is just enough to make my heart melt. “Eyes on me, baby. Don’t close your eyes when you come, I want to see you come apart.”

  “Yes,” I moan. “You’re close too, I can feel it. I can feel every inch of you when we’re together. What you’re feeling, what you’re thinking… I know the depths of your mind and your heart. And you know mine.”

  “Two halves of the same whole.”

  “Fuck,” I whimper. “Where were you eight years ago?”

  “You don’t want to know how many times I’ve asked myself that.”

  “Tell me you love me,” I gasp, on the precipice of a soul-shattering orgasm. I’m so close I can taste it.

  “I love you so much.” I cry out hearing his words, the first wave of the orgasm taking over and my hand goes to the ceiling of the car for leverage. His mouth is on my neck as I move up and down on him faster as the rest of my orgasm rips through me. He fills me deeply each time I make my way down to the base of his cock, our pelvic muscles pressed together completely.

  Sweat rolls down my back as he rips my sweatshirt over my head, leaving me completely naked in his arms. His tongue traces my nipple, collecting the beads of sweat that have formed and sucking them down like it’s the sweetest drink before he tugs the sensitive pebble between his teeth.

  “I want you to come inside of me. I want your cum inside me for the rest of the night. I want to go to bed with it there,” I say and it’s as if my words are his undoing, he comes, growling my name in my ear as he stills, filling my body with everything he has to offer. His orgasm finally wanes after what feels like a blissful eternity, and I can still feel him pulsing inside of me. I clench once letting him know he needs to stay put, and he chuckles.

  “I wasn’t going anywhere. I want to stay inside of you for as long as possible.”

  “Forever?” I ask.

  “Forever.” He rubs his nose across mine and we sit in the afterglow of our lovemaking. Only after a few minutes does he break the silence. “I love coming inside of you, baby, even though it’s risky as hell. You’re still on the pill, right?”

  I nod, knowing a baby would be the worst thing for us right now, especially if we want to escape this with minimal destruction. “Yes, I am.”

  “Okay, just stay on it a little longer, alright?”

  I cock my head to the side as I try to move the damp hair off of my neck. “Then what?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean…when we get together…”

  He smiles a shy smile. “I thought you knew how I felt?”

  My eyes furrow wondering if we’ve had this conversation and I somehow missed it. “I don’t—I don’t remember talking about it?”

  “I’m all in on kids, Charlotte. I want you pregnant the second the ink on your divorce papers dries.”

  I swallow. “You don’t even want to marry me first?” I ask, cocking my head to the side.

  “I want it all. Marriage and a baby—babies. I want a life with you, Charley,” he shakes his head, “so much that…”

  I eye him. “So much that…?” He looks out the window, avoiding my gaze completely. I pull his chin to look at me, staring into his worried eyes. “So much that…” I repeat, urging him to complete the sentence.

  “I bought a house.” He rubs the back of his neck, something I’ve noticed he only does when he’s nervous.

  “You bought a house?” I ask, the shock evident in my voice.

  “Yes…for you to live in…with me. For us to live in together…and raise our family.” He looks as if he’s nervous to tell me but I’m so overcome with gratitude and love for this man I can’t imagine why he would be apprehensive.

  “You bought us a house?” I ask, the tears brimming in my eyes. He nods still unsure of my response to this life-changing news. “Oh my God, Will!” I wrap my arms around him and squeeze before I place a kiss on his lips. “Do you have pictures? Can I see it? Can we go see it soon? Please?”

  “I do have pictures, yes,” he says.

  “When were you going to tell me? When did you buy it?”

  “I saw the house about a month ago, and I thought of you instantly. I mean…I could see you there with me. But at the time you hadn’t said you were definitely leaving him. I thought you might eventually, but I didn’t know that it definite
ly meant you’d even want to be with me. The realtor is a friend of my brother’s—really an old girlfriend, and she said she’d keep an eye on it until I was sure. I guess she saw my hesitation to give her a definitive no. And then we had those two days at your place, and I knew. I knew that you were feeling what I was feeling. That you loved me and wanted this as badly as I did… I do.”

  He rubs his hands down my shoulders and squeezes. “I called her and asked for a week. She obliged. And then today…you said you were leaving him…”

  I gasp. “Did you do it…today?”

  His nerves are back as he reluctantly nods before lowering his head. “I signed the papers today, after you left my office.”

  I place my hand under his chin and bring his gaze back to mine. “You bought us a house today?”

  “And then went on a fucking date,” he says as he rubs his forehead. “Stupid.”

  I shrug. “I was on one too. I’m sorry I got so mad at you for that.”

  “Yeah, but at least I know you’re going to go out with him from time to time. I’m sure it surprised you to see me with another woman.”

  I bite my lip to prevent the tears from forming. “It certainly was unexpected.”

  “Look at me,” he says, grabbing my face. “There is no one else. Just you. Just like I trust you aren’t doing anything with Wells you have to trust that I’m not doing anything with anyone.”

  “I do trust you. Like I said, it just hurt to see you with someone else. Just like I know it hurts you to see me with Matt. I’d never felt it before and I guess I got a glimpse of how you feel. It sucks and I’m sorry I put you through that.”

  He chuckles before pulling me to his chest and breathing in my scent. “Yes, it’s difficult, but I’m sorry you had to see that.”

  I nod, rubbing my face against his chest that is still covered by his white dress shirt. I unbutton his shirt and press my face to the warmth, needing to feel the skin-to-skin contact and not caring that it’s coated with a layer of sweat. “You bought us a house.” I look up at him as the tears start to flow. “Do you have any idea how unbelievable that is. How unbelievable you are? I’m in awe of you.”

  And it’s the truth. I know Will loves me and knows how I feel about him, but he still took a huge risk. He gambled on me and bought a house. A house for us to raise our kids.

  “Honestly, I thought you’d be pissed I jumped the gun like this. And without talking to you…”

  I perk my head up off of his chest. “Oh my God, no. Not at all. I can’t believe you did this for me. For us. This is amazing.”

  We stay like this, talking, kissing, and just sitting in silence, letting our fingertips do the talking for us as they explore every inch of each other’s skin. The morning is quickly approaching and I know our time is up. I feel the tears forming in my eyes the second the realization registers on both of our faces. It’s late, and we can’t stay out here all night.

  “I’ll see you Friday, baby. We’ll go see the house?” he says in an effort to cheer me up, but I hear the sadness in his voice that, again, I have to leave him.

  “Our house?” I whisper, feeling a tremor move through me as the words leave my lips.

  “Yes,” he smiles, “and we’ll christen it while we’re there. It’s not going unnoticed that I haven’t tasted your pussy today.”

  I bite down on my bottom lip out of sheer arousal and frustration as I had definitely noticed. “So, Friday?”

  “Yes, ma’am, be prepared to have my mouth reacquainted with every inch of you,” he says in a voice so low and seductive that I almost convulse. I know I have to get out of this car now before it results in round two.

  I reach for the door handle before I turn to look at him. “What I said, Will? I meant it. Please don’t forget that. Even if I can’t take your call or see you when you need me right now, please don’t forget that I’m yours. So completely and irrevocably yours. Maybe not on paper, but mind body and soul…” I say sadly, knowing that my life inside this car is vastly different than my life outside of it, and as soon as I climb out of this silver BMW, my reality will change once again. The reality that I’m not with Will.

  I really feel for Cinderella in this moment. Who says you have to go back to reality at midnight?

  I climb out of his car and start the quick trek back to my house. I see him watching me out of the corner of my eye as he inches along the street a few yards behind me. I shoot him a quick wave before I’m in the house. When I’m safely inside, I pull out my phone and send him a text.

  Me: Drive safely. Thank you for coming to see me.

  Will: Sleep tight, call me when you can. I love you.

  Me: I love you too. I can’t wait until I can go to sleep in your arms every night.

  Will: Ditto, baby. My bed is waiting for you.

  * * *

  I’M LYING IN BED STILL reeling from my night with Will—the orgasm, the “I love yous,” and the house he bought us overwhelm my thoughts, making it impossible to shut my eyes. I stare at the ceiling, unable to turn off my brain as my thoughts begin to drift.

  How did I get here?

  I know I’m in this situation because of the decisions I’ve made, but the act of cheating on Matt was not what broke my marriage. It might just be the straw that broke the camel’s back.

  I close my eyes praying for sleep to claim me when I’m reminded of all of the things that had a hand in the demise of my marriage. The late nights, early mornings, cold looks and kisses, forgetting my birthday—ah, my birthday last year. I squeeze my eyes shut as I try to stop the tears from falling.

  September 23, 2016

  I wake with a start on my twenty-eighth birthday with a huge smile on my face. I was never someone that hated birthdays. Maybe I’m not old enough to view them as something sad or morbid—I guess that comes with age. I like the attention, the cake, the people reaching out that you haven’t talked to in a few months calling to wish you well on your day. I loved all of it. I turn my head to the side and frown when I don’t see my husband—or anything for that matter.

  When we lived together, before we got married, I was roused from sleep on September twenty-third by his mouth on me, his lips bringing me to an orgasm before my eyes were even fully open. The first year of our marriage, it was the same, and the smell of bacon tickling my nostrils. After year three, when things started to go downhill, Matt wasn’t in bed with me, but he left flowers and a note. Last year, it was just a note and the instructions that I was to have a spa day with Lauren. But this year, I frown when I don’t see anything.

  No flowers, no note, no husband.

  I sit up in bed, stretching my limbs to the ceiling. When I walk downstairs, I wonder if my husband is trying something new this year. I search the house top to bottom and don’t see any sign of him or anything celebratory. The dishes from the meal I had alone last night still lie in the sink along with the wine glass I’d filled to the brim at least three times as I brought in my birthday alone. My eyes dart to the foyer and I see that his briefcase and keys aren’t there, leading me to believe that he’s already left for work. I pull out my phone and press his contact, my hands shaking as I anticipate the disappointment.

  “Matthew Wells.”

  Jesus, Matt, did you even bother to look at the person calling? “Hi,” I say softly, “it’s me.”

  “Hey, I’m walking into a meeting, can I call you later?”

  “Oh…I…I mean…” Did he…did he forget? I wonder. No, that’s impossible. This has to be setting me up for something huge. A surprise maybe. “Yeah, totally fine,” I say, my optimism taking over.

  “Great, later,” he says without so much as a term of endearment. I hear the line go dead and I set the phone down.

  I spend the day with Lauren, who’d had the foresight to take off work, and we have mimosas at our favorite spot. The bartender even looked the other way and honored the bottomless mimosa deal only reserved for weekends even though it was Wednesday. I wasn’t drunk, but
buzzed enough to feel the tension building over my husband’s indifference to my day of birth. Lauren hadn’t been the biggest fan of Matthew, so I didn’t want to spoil the day or our buzzes talking about it.

  After all, there was still tonight.

  I got home around five, and after a day of mimosas and pedicures—two of my favorite things—I showered before putting on a black dress that I’d bought especially for the day. I assumed we’d go to dinner, and I wanted to look and feel as beautiful as September twenty-third always made me feel. I curled my hair in loose waves and did a smoky eye. The works. I poured myself a glass of wine, swinging my feet as I sat perched on the barstool, the lasting effects of brunch starting to melt away. I hear his keys in the door and smile brightly as he walks through the door.

  “Hi!” I call as he walks in still staring down at his phone.

  “Hey,” he says, not even bothering to look up. I clear my throat and when he finally does look up at me, I see a small smile cross his face, as if he wasn’t expecting me to be dressed this way. “You look really pretty.”

  I blush slightly, sad that something so minor causes my heart to skip a beat. It’s as if any attention or affection from my husband makes me unreasonably happy as it’s so rare that he gives me either. “Thank you, it’s new.” I smile. “I bought it for today.”

  “Today?” he asks. “You going out with Lauren?” He grabs a wine glass from our cabinet and pulls out the Merlot I opened last night. He looks at it before pushing it aside and opening up a new bottle. Something so simple and idiotic, but it makes my heart constrict. He even hates my wine choices.

  “Ummm. We…we aren’t going anywhere?”

  “No? I’m exhausted, and I still have a ton of work to do.”

  “But…”

  He’s already out of the room before I have a chance to say anything and I feel the nausea bubbling inside. I’ve felt the distance for months now, coming up on a year. I attributed it to work, and stress but…forgetting my birthday? I follow him to his office and stand in the doorway with my arms crossed.