The Marriage Mistake

by Natalie Knight

  I throw my head back and my hips upwards. His hands pushes against me. And then he’s gone.

  Emptiness grabs me and threatens to choke me.

  What the…?

  I stare at the spot where seconds ago he’d been kneeling. Did I miss something?

  As my mind starts processing what has happened, he’s back.

  Realization dawns.

  With one quick movement, he’s pulled me off the floor and pushed against the wall. His cock is in me before I can come to terms with the cocktail of emotions.

  With hard, fast thrusts, he pummels into me, and I can feel my orgasm build already. His hands are on my tits and mine are on his ass.

  I push myself against him as he fucks me standing in my own kitchen.

  The world starts to spin, and my body fills with molten chocolate. Each of my pores is filled with ecstasy as he pummels his way toward another orgasm.

  When I come, I come so hard I fear I might pass out. I start seeing stars, and my fingernails dig into his fleshy but firm ass.

  He’s not far behind me and erupts in his own orgasm.

  When we’ve both finished riding our wave of pleasure, we collapse on a heap on the floor of the kitchen.

  “If we’re not careful, we’ll be thrown out with the trash.” I chuckle and return his kiss.

  Daniel

  Walking into the office isn’t something I ordinarily enjoy.

  While I’m doing it, the last thing I’m usually thinking about is what happened the night before, even if what happened the night before happened with an especially sexy woman.

  Just like in Las Vegas—what happens in the bedroom stays in the bedroom, and work, well, it’s work.

  Yet what I’m thinking about right now, arriving at the office, are Rose’s cinnamon eyes, and the way they looked—not as we were making earth-shattering love, but afterwards.

  She smiled during our conversation. I can’t remember the words, but I can remember the feeling.

  It’s the same feeling I have right now, walking into work.

  “What are you smiling at?” my secretary asks.

  “Why, I’m not smiling at anything,” I reply.

  She chortles a little bit. “Okay, why are you smiling then?” she clarifies.

  “Because it’s a beautiful day, that’s why.”

  She lets her snicker turn into a full-on laugh. “Um...okay, then.”

  One of those things that I keep hearing over and over in my life is that if you just smile all the time, people will appreciate it. Not my secretary, maybe, but you may actually find people smiling back.

  If the smile is genuine, that is; otherwise, you may end up confusing everyone—or possibly just creeping them out.

  But apart from my secretary, the few people I pass on my way to the office, even those I just see from the corner of my eye, are all smiling back. That’s nice and all, but I’m not thinking about them.

  I’m still thinking about last night.

  Great fucking sex is just that—great fucking sex. But I’m thinking about everything after that. Rose, her eyes, and that feeling...it’s still there, as strong as ever.

  And it feels nice. That’s the word. Nice.

  That word often doesn’t seem strong enough, but I feel like this is a new meaning for nice. This feeling, this nice feeling that I want to hold onto...I don’t want it to fade.

  I know it can’t stay like this—at this level of nice—forever, but I want it to be the foundation for the rest of my life.

  For a family with Rose, with the mother of my future children.

  There’s that feeling again, and it feels nice. It’s the perfect word, really, and it’s why I’m smiling right now.

  Those words Rose and I exchanged last night—although I still cannot remember them exactly— I know we were talking about the future.

  About a family.

  It was nice, and we shared that feeling.

  That’s what I’m feeling now, and I hope that Rose feels it, too.

  I can’t imagine that she’s not. Even if she isn’t, surely, she must be thinking about what a great time we had. I mean, we’ve had some good times, but that was something fucking else.

  I feel so nice that, when my phone starts buzzing the moment I’m alone in my office, I don’t even get a little bit annoyed. Usually, that’s the type of thing that makes me swear under my breath, but right now, I’m still smiling.

  I check my phone to see a reminder: Dinner with Rose tonight. Make sure to go get her. My smile gets even bigger as I think about that song.

  You have found her, now go and get her.

  I feel like I’ve got her already, but I’ll go get her again for dinner tonight.

  I start humming the old song to myself when I sit down at my desk. Old music’s the type of thing that used to scare me. I tried to stay away from it, wanting to stay young and modern.

  But if I want to keep going in this world, I can’t avoid growing old eventually.

  It’s something that doesn’t seem as terrifying as it used to be, because now it seems—well, you guessed it—nice.

  “Hey, Mr. Smiley Face Songbird,” my secretary teases me from outside the door. “Don’t forget about your nine-thirty!”

  I look at my wrist watch. Twenty minutes before I really have to start work today.

  I don’t mind—it’s what I need to do.

  For myself.

  For Rose.

  For our future.

  I lean back in my chair to enjoy the meditative moments before the daily grind begins.

  I try to picture my dinner with Rose tonight. I don’t think we decided on a place...but did we? If we did, I don’t want to disappoint her.

  I search through my memory, trying to find a restaurant name somewhere in those beautiful moments in Rose’s bed.

  I’m drawing a blank on that, but I do remember our goodbye kiss.

  It was a sweet, lingering kiss that gave us both another little spark of excitement—not that there wasn’t already enough of that last night—but it delivered just a little taste of things to come.

  Maybe after dinner tonight...but where is dinner tonight?

  “Atera!” I say the restaurant name out loud when I remember it.

  “It’s not at Atera. It’s in Conference Room A,” my secretary says through the door. She thinks I’m still talking about my nine-thirty.

  I notice that my feet are up on my desk. I pull them down and take a deep breath.

  “When you’re right, you’re right,” I call back. “I don’t know where my mind is, and I don’t know where I’d be without you.”

  “I don’t know where you’d be, either, and I don’t want to think about it.”

  I laugh at her snarky comments. She soon joins in on the laughter. We share a nice little moment in two different rooms, because why the hell not? It’s just a regular workday, and we’ve all got to get through it.

  I stand up at my desk. I may be feeling nice, but I still need to look presentable for my next meeting.

  Eons ago, we had this kind of flaky new-agey interior designer come in and, as he put it, Feng Shui-ed our offices. I didn’t even have the energy to argue at the time, and he didn’t do much in my office besides hanging a full-length mirror on the inside of my office door.

  It’s coming in handy now as I give my hair a quick comb. I pop a few breath mints and walk out the door.

  I get through all my appointments and go over my emails. I don’t even take a lunch break; I just get through it while thinking about dinner tonight.

  Or, more specifically, thinking about meeting Rose for dinner tonight.

  And now, I’m done with the day’s commitments.

  Oh, shit, where did we plan to meet, again? I’m seriously fucking distracted by her.

  I sit down, close my eyes, and prop my feet back on the desk.

  That nice feeling fills me up again as I think about our kiss and our discussion.

  In my mind’s eye, I h
ear myself say, As soon as you’re done working tomorrow, I will be there at your office. You don’t need to do a thing. Sitting back up, I remember saying one more thing: Well, you might need to tell me when you’re finished.

  As if Rose was somehow listening to my memories along with me, my phone buzzes.

  Of course, it’s a text from her: I’ll be done in twenty minutes.

  If this were any other date, I would think the message was a little business-like and perfunctory.

  But it doesn’t bother me even slightly—it’s as nice as everything else Rose does.

  I look at my wristwatch. It’s about four-forty.

  I’ve made it a point to be early for all my other engagements today, and my most important appointment of the day is coming up in twenty minutes. I’d better get a move on if I want to be there the moment she gets off work.

  I jog through the hallway, much to my secretary’s surprise. “Oh. My. God. What?” She squawks before giggling as I break into a run.

  Walking into the lobby—at least I’m not jogging anymore—I step in and stand tall, feeling proud of the date I have tonight.

  I feel excited, warm, happy, and nice as I look at my wristwatch again. It’s now about five minutes to five, fifteen minutes after Rose’s text.

  If she really was getting out of work when she texted, she would be in the lobby by now—not that I’d expect her to wait for me all this time.

  I look around the lobby, still smiling like I’ve been all day.

  People are looking back at me. Two women and a man, all of them in grey suits, have stopped their conversation just to glare at me.

  I look towards the front entrance where the security guard is also staring at me, as is the nearby older executive-looking guy in the meticulously tailored suit holding a coat over his arm.

  But I dismiss them. Where is Rose, anyway?

  I’m about to look at my wristwatch one more time, although it couldn’t have been a minute since I last checked, when I hear that lovely voice.

  “Ready?”

  It’s not like I’m not used to people staring at me pretty much everywhere I go. It’s mostly just background noise at this point.

  But I still feel a strong sense of relief wash over me from just hearing Rose’s voice, knowing that she’s here, and knowing that we can leave soon. I look up from my wristwatch to find her standing right in front of me. Her nice smile perfectly matches my own.

  “You have no idea how ready I am.”

  Rose and I kiss briefly before crossing the lobby, leaving the people to gawk in our wake.

  Rose

  It feels like we’re pulling our weight equally, both of us pulling each other closer while we walk arm in arm out onto the sidewalk.

  I spot Daniel’s car parked conspicuously, right in the middle of the loading zone in front of the building.

  “Wait, you can’t park there,” I squawk with amusement.

  “That’s what I thought, but then I tried it and found out how easy it is.”

  I lean away from Daniel to see if I can spot a ticket on his car’s windshield, or a boot on one of the wheels. Daniel snaps me out of it by unlocking the doors remotely. The headlights flash, and the horn honks, giving me enough of a start to straighten back up.

  Daniel laughs a free, easy laugh, and I get a little infectious laughter from him.

  It starts out as infectious laughter, anyway, but soon we’re both laughing hard at nothing but our own happiness—and excitement.

  Daniel’s done laughing by the time we reach the car, but he still has the goofiest, least self-conscious grin I’ve ever seen on him when he opens the passenger side door for me. I nod politely, which inspires Daniel to laugh again, just for a second.

  Sliding into the seat and hearing Daniel shut the door, I feel a little of my cheerfulness drain. I don’t know why I suddenly have the idea that we’re not on the same page, at least not at this very moment.

  And I’m surprised how upset that vague notion is making me feel. I begin breathing a little harder while I watch him walk in front of the windshield around to the driver’s side.

  “Daniel,” I begin as soon as he opens the door. “May I ask you a question, please?”

  “Sure.” Daniel keeps his eyes on me while he lowers himself into the seat and closes the door. “You sound so formal...and don’t forget your seatbelt.”

  I can’t say why I love the fact that he mentions the seatbelt so much, but I already feel better. We both fasten our belts, and Daniel’s already started the car and pulled smoothly into the traffic before I remember my question.

  “Oh, what I wanted to ask, was...”

  Daniel slows to a stop at a red light, and looks at me attentively.

  “...what’s the reason you think we’re having dinner tonight?”

  The light turns green, and the taxi behind us starts honking immediately, but Daniel keeps his attentive face right on me.

  Although―now he has that big, unapologetic grin again.

  “Because we’re celebrating.”

  “Celebrating what?”

  “Celebrating our future. Together.”

  “Together? As parents?”

  “Of course!”

  Daniel finally drives through the light, and I feel almost weightless with elation, like the seatbelt’s the only thing holding me in place.

  I do know that, but I just needed to hear it again from Daniel.

  The whole damn car feels feather-light, as if we’re not even moving, even though I can see that we’re coasting downtown along Varick Street.

  I start flushing with excitement—not necessarily that kind of excitement, not this time, but overall excitement with things to come.

  I shake my head slowly, unable to believe it.

  Daniel turns quickly and effortlessly onto Worth. He looks at me, shaking my head, and I fully expect him to laugh some more.

  “It’s hard to describe, but I feel it, too,” he says sincerely. “That’s just one reason I know we’re on the right path.”

  If the seatbelt weren’t fastened and if Daniel’s moonroof was open, I would float off into the stratosphere for sure.

  The car glides on air to the curb, where a valet is already waiting for us.

  “How are doing tonight, sir?” I hear the valet ask while I start opening the door.

  Somehow, Daniel transports himself to just outside the passenger door, and he finishes the job of opening the door as I step out onto the street.

  I hear animated but hushed talking behind me. People are spotting Daniel, wondering who he’s out with. I ignore it, letting it blend into the background.

  If Daniel’s affected by the nearby gossip hounds, he’s not showing it. His eyes stay right on me, and they stay there as we walk into Atera and sit down at our table, and even as Daniel orders the Krug Cuvee Brut.

  “We’re celebrating,” Daniel announces to the waiter as his gaze remains focused on me across the table.

  The waiter leaves silently to get our champagne. For the first time since we got to the restaurant, Daniel breaks his stare as he glances at my hand resting on the table. He touches the top of my hand lightly with just his fingertips.

  “Do you think people are still watching us?” I ask.

  “I couldn’t care less.”

  “Do you care what they’ll write on Facebook tonight? On the forums?”

  “Hey, gossipers, make sure to get this down...” Daniel isn’t yelling, but he’s being loud enough that anyone who’s listening will hear. “This is official, we’re together. Write about that on your goddamn message boards!”

  “Official, huh?” I feel myself blushing slightly.

  “I just want them to get it right, for once.” Daniel’s back to his conversational tone.

  “Since that’s the case...what next?”

  I watch Daniel, waiting for his answer. The silence is punctuated by the sound of a champagne cork popping close to my ear.

  “What’s next is
that we’ll figure it out.”

  The waiter fills both champagne flutes.

  “I’ll be back with the first course,” he declares before disappearing again.

  “You’re saying you’ll figure it out.” My mouth is getting strangely dry, and I take a sip of champagne.

  “That’s what I’m saying. There are other doctors, specialists I can talk to. Money’s no object, and there’s no shortage of specialists in this city.”

  I nod my head, staring at the bubbles rising to the surface of his champagne.

  “You haven’t already been to every specialist on Earth?”

  Daniel shrugs and takes the first sip of his drink. “I haven’t had this much motivation before.”

  I let out a laugh, I’m not sure why, and I help myself to a hearty swallow of my own drink. “It’s hasn’t even been two months, but, as you say―it’s official.”

  Daniel takes another small taste of champagne.

  “I think we both want the same things, Rose. To be parents, to be with each other...I know that’s what I want.”

  Daniel lets his eyes finish his thought as gazes at me, a gaze that says volumes. I gaze back, hoping that my own look carries the depth of what I’m feeling.

  “I’ll be there for you, and I’ll support you, and we’ll get this figured out together,” I tell him, in case my look isn’t clear enough.

  The service at Atera isn’t overbearing, but it’s fast. We get through every delicious course, and there’s still some sunlight showing through the window.

  “It’s only seven-thirty, or not even,” Daniel says, checking his wristwatch.

  “This was kind of an early dinner...”

  “That doesn’t mean it has to be an early night.”

  I flush with excitement again. This time it is that kind of excitement, partially—but I’m also excited just to spend more time with Daniel. I actually missed him at work today.

  After all those tasting courses, and all that champagne, I end up leaning on Daniel while we leave Atera.

  “Hey, how much champagne did you have?” I ask when I see the valet bring Daniel’s car up to the curb.

  “Two sips—you had the rest.”