Loving Wife

So, I remember the first time I read a story from the Loving Wife category, and I learned quickly that it was more of a euphemism than a direct descriptive, like Lesbian or Anal.

I've enjoyed exploring the category as a reader and an author. There are so many nuances to experience and enjoy. While I have a few more in process, I began working on this one a long time ago. The concept was simple... what if a loving wife was exactly that? Most male characters in these stories have encountered weak, deceitful, manipulative, or just plain horrible women, only to find a real, TRUE, loving wife the second time around. What if she was the right one from the beginning? What if the man was the issue? I don't mean the cheating kind, but the broken kind.

That's what LOVING WIFE is about. There's no BTB, big cocks, horrible rich lawyers, or retired military. If that's what you are looking for, you may wish to give this one a pass. The category police may question the placement, as the bulk of the story happens before they get married, but it ties into their entire life together.

Be aware! Grammar and spelling errors to follow. Limited sex, so don't blink if that's what you're looking for.

Sometimes, it's just a happy ending...

Cheers, C_T

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Loving wife

"Do I need to be worried?" My husband's voice whispered directly into my ear.

"Don't be ridiculous, Anthony. He's my second cousin for Pete's sake." I smiled at his gruff, possessive tone. "There's only one man for me... remember?"

I felt his bravado deflate, hugging me tighter as we slowly danced across the floor. I ran my hand through his salt and pepper hair, cradling the back of his head with care. I could feel his mood shift. It didn't happen as much anymore, but he still had his lapses from time to time.

"Sweetheart? Don't you dare." I whispered to him. I could hear his breathing growing deeper and more rhythmic as he tried to reel it back in. "You are here with your loving wife, enjoying the wedding of our amazing daughter. We did this, honey."

"Thanks to you." He whispered back. "If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't have any of this." He was teetering, I could feel it. Twenty-seven years together give you these subtle insights.

I pulled my face back and looked into his troubled eyes. Pressing my forehead to his, I spoke from my heart. "That's where you keep getting it wrong, baby. We did this. It took both of us." I waited for him to meet my eyes. "When the night is finished and our beautiful daughter is off for her honeymoon, I'm going to make you remember, until the sun comes up." I felt his posture straighten up. I smiled, knowing he was able to avoid the rabbit hole.

"Were you really going to start a fight with my second cousin at your daughter's wedding?" I coyly muttered to his face.

"Well, he is handsy, especially for a relative." He smirked at me, causing me to giggle.

"He is, isn't he? No wonder none of the women in our family can stand him." It was his turn to chuckle.

I love my husband, heart and soul. Our journey wasn't easy, but it was worthwhile. Do I like that my husband is jealous so easily? Yes, actually. It's how I know he's invested and focused on us. Oh, he would never start anything unless it was to protect me or his family. He has an infinite amount of love that he could draw from and was gracious to all those in his life, except himself. If I had a crystal ball that warned me about the tribulations we would encounter, would I have dated him all those years ago?

Dam straight!

**

I met Anthony at a university mixer. We didn't lock eyes across the room or bump into each other while carrying drinks like the start of most romantic beginnings. It was on the dance floor where he was failing terribly, trying to catch on to the latest line dance craze, a combination of country steps to a bass-filled, hip-hop beat. I hate to admit it, but I did laugh at the poor guy. But inside my head, I had to give him props for putting himself out there.

The group he was with was no help at all. A couple of girls tried to help him, but gave up quickly so they could get back into it. He shuffled behind them, trying to shadow the moves... it was painful. To this day, I don't know why, but I dropped from my line, moved in beside him, and grabbed his arm.

"Don't try so hard. Just feel the beat. The steps will make more sense." He gave me a wide smile; I could see he was a bit tipsy. I want to say he got better, but I can't lie. I even moved behind him and tried to guide his hips to the beat... it was a lost cause. Either way, I had fun trying to help this poor guy, and he was gracious to accept it without making it flirty.

When the song was over, he faced me with his hand out. "Thank you for trying to help these two left feet." His smile was sweet, and it wasn't lost on me how cute he was. He gave me a small wave and turned to leave the dance floor.

"Wait! That's it? You're just going to give up?" I teased.

He laughed. "I think I've held you up enough. Besides, I have to go see a man about a horse." I giggled at his answer. What a stupid saying, for I have to pee.

I watched him work his way off the floor, and my attention was soon back to my circle of friends. I got a few smiles and even a thumbs-up from Gloria, my bestie. I returned the smiles, whipped my hair off my shoulders, and got back into the groove.

Like many random meetings, I chalked it up as a hit-and-run. Maybe there was some potential there, but I hadn't seen him since the dance floor. I vaguely looked for him, hoping he'd make a move, but alas, he never did. Gloria announced we were rounding up the group for some late-night pizza, so I downed the last of my gin and tonic and helped Gloria gather the troops. It was a fairly quick process for the majority, but Sasha was still MIA.

One of the girls said she saw her by the shooter bar earlier, so the 5 of us made our way to the drink station. Out of all of us, Sasha was the designated party girl. She could drink with the best of them, but it also got her into unnecessary situations too. Gloria was able to pick her out of the crowd, and we followed her lead. Sure enough, Sasha was in the middle of three guys, flirting away.

"Hey, Sash! We're heading out. Let's go!" Gloria called out over the music. Sasha smiled and started to say her goodbyes to the guys.

"We can take her home. I think she wants to hang out with us." The guy was handsome and polite enough, but you never leave your homegirl alone with three strangers, especially if she's been drinking.

I piped up. "Thanks, guys, but it's just a girl's night and we're heading out." Guy number two was a little less diplomatic than the handsome one.

"Well, we just spent a shit load of money on shots for her, so it's only fair she hangs out with us and party." I'm sure I wasn't the only one to feel the hair on their neck go up.

"C'mon, Sash. Let's go, hun!" I took a step towards the trio and glared at Sasha. She knew this was going to go bad if she stuck around, so she carefully tried to elbow her way out from between the guys. Unfortunately, the loud one grabbed her arm.

"Oh no. You can't just drink our booze, and then walk out, cock tease!"

"Get your fuckin hands off her you creep!" Gloria pushed the guy closest to her. The guy barely moved and shoved her back hard.

I immediately thought that Sasha had done it again. She always attracted the assholes. We created a big scene, as only 5 women could do, hoping security would come to intervene. Suddenly, a guy came from behind me and tackled the pushy one to the ground. Just as the other two tried to step in, two more came, and the second one was massive. He, alone, pretty much ended the whole fiasco, just as security got there. We told them what happened, and they escorted the three guys out and asked us nicely to leave as well. Which was fine for us.

I thanked the big guy and his friend for their help, and he just laughed. "I'd follow Antonio into hell." I laughed with him, not knowing who Antonio was until he tapped the big guy on his shoulder.

"Thanks, Jumbo. Let's go, I think I broke a tooth."

"Antonio?" I realized right away who he was. "Holy shit! You're Antonio?" It was the cute, bad dancer from earlier in the night.

"Uh, yeah. But only Jumbo can call me Antonio. It's Anthony." He smiled softly.

"Thanks, Anthony. What you did was..."

"Stupid?" He interrupted me.

I laughed. "I was going to say brave, but I can live with stupid." We both chuckled. We looked at each other over in silence when Gloria's voice snapped me back to the living.

"Sophie? You coming?"

I looked back at Anthony. "Say, would you and your friends like to grab some pizza? Our treat. It's the least we could do." If I read his face right, he was going to politely decline.

"We'd love to!" The third guy, whom I later found out was Peter, accepted on their behalf and pushed Anthony and the big guy to follow us out.

I made a point of getting to know Anthony over pizza and beer. He was shier than I thought, but sweet. He was a nice break from the typical alpha assholes you meet in university.

**

It took a long time before we advanced to the physical stage. We had effectively been dating for 8 months before we got passed the kissing. I suppose it was refreshing not to be dragged to bed 3 days in, but if I was starting to suffer from horniness, how the hell was he holding out? When I asked him if he was seeing someone else, he almost broke down, swearing he would never cheat. When I asked him if he was having second thoughts, he assured me he wasn't. In his own words, he said he was nervous.

"Nervous is okay." I offered. "Have you... I mean, are you a virgin?" I was trying to be delicate. It wasn't being judgmental, I just needed to know what I was dealing with.

"What? NO!" Apparently, I wasn't delicate enough. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Don't get mad. I'm just trying to see where we're at. I'm all for taking our time and respecting each other, but this isn't 1950, Anthony. Most couples, by now, are engaging in some kind of sexual contact. Do I not excite you?"

"Of course you do." His voice was much calmer. "I just don't want to screw this up."

I sat on his lap and hugged him tightly. "You know I'm falling for you, and I'm pretty sure you're doing the same with me. Unless you're a complete asshole under the sheets who doesn't give a shit about his partner... how can you screw this up?" He sat in silence. I could see he was looking for the right words, but I couldn't wait. "If it's experience, Anthony, we can communicate and be open with each other. I want you to know what truly gets me excited, and I want to know what your buttons are. Let's take the guessing out of it and help each other. I promise not to do anything that makes you uncomfortable if you promise me the same thing. Deal?" I could see his look softening.

"Okay." He finally answered. It was lost on me how he could be so selfless and brave without a second thought, yet so timid with me.

Later that evening, we progressed past first base. Even after our chat, I had to be the semi-aggressor. As we were kissing, I took his hand and led it to my breast. He was hesitant, so I kept my hand on top of his and gently pushed his palm into me. I have very sensitive nipples, and breast play is a huge turn-on for me. He finally caught on and began kneading me on his own. He may have been shy, but he was quite intuitive, hitting my nipples with just the right amount of frequency and pressure.

As the kissing and fondling got heavier, I slowly worked my hand down his side to his leg. I gently rubbed, slowly easing my hand towards the middle. I could tell he was hard, just by the strain on the material of his jeans. When I slid my hand over the top of his bulge, he pulled back from the kiss and released my boob.

"Anthony? Are you okay?" His cheeks were flushed. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." His words didn't match his face.

"Talk to me, Anthony. Is it something I've done, or have I moved too fast?" He wouldn't look me in the eyes. I was at a loss. He was always the pillar of confidence in any other setting. I always felt safe around him, and his collection of good friends was awesome too. We partied, laughed, and even worked out together. He was strong, but never went out of his way to impress me. He was always so supportive, but the minute things turned intimate, he turned into a shy teenager.

Anthony was a mystery. He was nothing like the guys I'd dated before, which was good for the most part. The one place I felt vulnerable with Anthony was my desirability. If I'm being honest, guys couldn't wait to get in my pants, down my top, or inside my body. When that's a part of a healthy relationship, it makes a woman feel like she's on top of the world. However, despite my strong attraction to Anthony, I was starting to feel like I had lost my mojo or something. I straightened my shirt and sat back further on my couch. I resigned myself to the idea that we were going to get to the bottom of this tonight.

"Is it me, Anthony? Is there something about me that doesn't make you excited? I'm just looking for honesty here. Even if I don't like the answers. We're going on 9 months, and I'd like to think there are many more to come... but."

"No!" He was quick to interrupt me. Initially, he was quite animated, but he slowly withdrew. "It's not you, Sophie. You're amazing and beautiful. You're perfect."

I chuckled at his description of me. "Anthony, I'm nowhere near perfect. No one's perfect. It's the little deficiencies that make us unique."

"I suppose that's true," He took a deep breath. "I'm... I'm a little concerned that I'm swinging outside my weight class. You could have anybody. I don't want you to settle, is all."

Wow. I've met some men with low self-esteem, but Anthony was on a whole other level. History taught me to stay clear of these types of guys because the maintenance schedule to keep them going could be exhausting. Having said that, I had no alarm bells going off. Anthony was different. As I said, he never gave any signs he was suffering from low self-esteem. He wasn't a larger-than-life kind of guy, but he was present, funny, respectful, and down-to-earth. Plus... I had developed some true feelings for him.

"You'll understand if I call bullshit, right? What's this outside my class shit? We've been rolling along just great... better than great." I took his cheek in my hand. "Talk to me, Anthony. Please..." He tried to pull away, but I wouldn't let him. Finally, he started talking.

"Look, I know this is going to come off as childish, or immature, but I've been through the wringer a few times and I'm a little gun-shy," he looked around me, "about... my gun."

It took me a moment to get what he was implying. Why, you might ask? I never saw it coming! "Anthony," I sighed heavily. "I could give you all the old clichés about size not mattering or it's what you do with it, but I won't." I paused. "That's not to say that they aren't true, by the way." I snuggled closer. "The whole time we've been together, not once did I wonder what size of dick you had in your pants. All I know is I'd like to experience everything with you. You make me happy. You make me feel safe and most of all, I can't imagine being with anyone else." I kissed his nose. "I meant what I said about forging ahead together and finding what each other likes. If you're as open as I want to be, how can we go wrong? Sex is a simple act, but making love to someone is complex. It's about being vulnerable and trusting. Whatever our future holds for us, together or apart, I'd never do or say anything to disrespect you or hurt you. It's not the way I'm wired."

He was looking deeply into my eyes. I could tell he was weighing my words. "I'm sorry. I don't want to seem wimpy. I know how I feel about you, and the last thing I want is to go all in, only to find out you couldn't be happy... long term.

I kissed him deeply. "Will you explore with me, Anthony? Do you trust me?" He no sooner nodded his head than I pushed him back and lay on top of him. I straddled his hips and put my hands on his chest. "I know neither of us is a virgin, but I want to go forward like I'm your first and you are mine." I leaned down and kissed him again. "What do you say?" Not only did he kiss me back, but I felt him hardening under my pussy. It was a great sign.

We did some gentle petting that night. It was a week later that we finally moved into the real, physical stuff. I could tell that Anthony was nervous, but I reassured him with my actions the whole time. Words can be hollow, but actions speak volumes, and I turned up the volume. His cock was maybe a little shorter than average, but he was fatter than typical, with a nice big head. I thought he was going to have a cardiac arrest when I took him in my mouth and to answer my question about how he was dealing with being horny... he wasn't. I no sooner had him deep in my mouth than he blew off.

I had barely swallowed his cum before the frantic apologies came flying. "I'm sorry, Sophie. I wanted to last longer than that..." I watched his posture deflate.

I slid up his body and kissed his cheek. "You know, if you don't relieve the pressure once and a while, things can go off without warning." I wiggled my eyebrows. "Anthony... It's okay. We got the first one out of the way. Now I want you to relax and work with me. Can you do that?" Once he nodded, I started removing my clothes until all I had on was my pink thong.

"While you recuperate, how about you return the favor?" I smirked. "It's been a long time since anything, but my fingers got me off." His face got a little red at my admission of masturbation. I straddled his chest and stroked his hair back while I studied his face. "Do you have any idea how hot it is knowing that in less than 10 seconds, I'll be pressing my pussy on that mouth of yours?"

It wasn't really a question, so I didn't wait for an answer. He was so stunned that he unknowingly let me pin his arms down with my legs, as I pulled my thong to the side and lowered myself onto his sexy mouth. At first, he did nothing, except inhale my scent. So, I encouraged him by grinding it down on his mouth. Seconds later, I felt his hot tongue trail the entire inner border of my labia. It was unexpected and amazing. I groaned in approval, and before I knew it, he was tongue-lashing me in all the right places, bringing me to a solid orgasm in record time. I grabbed his hair and pushed myself harder into his face.

With a final shutter, I lifted my ass, realizing I was likely depriving him of oxygen. "Holy fuck, Anthony! That was amazing!" For the record, I wasn't trying to build him up... it was that good!

I lifted my legs off his arms and moved like I was going to get off his chest, but his strong hands grabbed my hips and pulled me back over his mouth. Before I could utter a word, he began worshipping every nook and cranny of my cooch. There was no way this was his first time... he was a fucking savant at eating pussy!

One after another, it seemed like I was cumming every 30 seconds. Not likely, but I had no concept of time. I was losing my ability to stay upright, and when I started falling, Anthony guided me to my back and planted his face between my legs. I had never experienced so much pleasure in my life. If I let him, I believed he would've eaten me until I passed out!

"Anthony... Anthony! Enough... please!" He pulled his face away and looked at me like he was worried. A look that made me laugh. Was he really that clueless? I flexed my index finger, coaxing him to slide up my body until he was right beside me.

"Was it good... for you?" He asked with a straight face.

I gave him a throaty chuckle. "You're joking, right?" His look didn't change. "Anthony, that was the most intense, mind-blowing oral sex of my life!

"So, it was good then?"

I leaned over and kissed him hard, using the momentum to push him onto his back. My sloppy kitty brushed against his renewed boner, making us both moan. "You... are... a... pussy... eating... GOD!" I sat up and aligned his cock up to my over-sensitive sex. "And now, I'm going to fuck you into the mattress!"

His fat cock stretched the right places as I rode him. I was so lubricated that there was no easing into it. I jammed my hips up and down like I was crushing rocks. My head swung in circles as I pole-danced my way to a building orgasm. I looked at his face, and he looked lost, so I grabbed his hands and put them on my body.

"Touch me, Anthony. I want to feel your hands all over me." I moaned. His hands began exploring my tits and ass. I was getting close, but I didn't want to finish this way. I lifted off and rolled onto my back, lifting my legs, inviting him to take his rightful place.

Thankfully, he didn't need further instruction, and within seconds, he was back inside. His thrusts were tentative, but he provided more than adequate friction to the right spots, and my orgasm was building once again.

"Fuck me, Anthony! Fuck my pussy!" I grabbed his ass and pulled him harder, making him thrust harder. It wasn't long before my back arched, and my head tilted back. My mouth was wide open, but no sound had escaped... until his first rope of cum splashed inside. That broke the dam...

We lay in silence, trying to catch our breath. I began an introspective evaluation of our session. His cock was neither the smallest nor largest I'd encountered. His love-making skills were stiff and unsure, but we would only get better with practice. I smiled at the thought of being at the receiving end of his oral obsession. It was clear, at least to me, that this man was worth all of my love and attention. It was at that moment that my heart made it clear to me.

"I love you," I said quietly. He looked surprised at first but smiled.

"No one's ever said that to me before."

"Funny..." I looked upwards. "I don't think I've ever said it to a man before."

"Really?" His eyes were as big as saucers.

"Really."

He pulled me into a warm hug. "I knew the day we met." He whispered. "I'm so in love with you, Sophie!"

As you would expect, things got better from there. We were intimate frequently, and I finally felt like our future together was inevitable. We still had some hiccups, and despite the growth of our sexual chemistry, it always felt like Anthony had one foot out of the bedroom. I pushed him to open up, but he always declared that he was happy as long as I was happy. While a woman loves a man who will dote and dedicate all he does to the happiness of his woman, I couldn't shake the feeling that there was a shoe to drop. The worst thing about it was, I didn't know what that was or when it might happen.

After three years together, our ten-month engagement was almost over, with the wedding date less than six weeks away. Both of us were carving our way into our chosen careers. I was finishing my internship as a financial advisor with a local investment house, and Anthony was working with Jumbo at the largest scrap yard in our area. That may sound like a dead-end type of job, but the reality of the money found in recycled parts, metals, and electronics was astounding. Anthony loved the work and was doing well financially. Peter's father owned the company, and he relied heavily on my man and Jumbo. Okay, I have to stop with the Jumbo thing. It's what all the guys call him, but to his fiancé and us women, he was Quinn. It seemed underwhelming for a man of his physical stature, but if you knew the man inside, it was perfect. Not unlike my Anthony, Quinn was tough and fearless (in a much larger frame) but the kindest person you'd ever meet... unless you gave him a reason not to be. As similar as Anthny and Quinn were, Peter seemed like the odd guy out. He was tall, thin, and was better with his words than his hands, but like the other two, he'd walk through fire for you.

Peter was fresh out of law school and was working for the same firm that looked after his dad's business. So, indirectly, he, too, was helping his dad. The fact that the firm's owner, Gregory Priest, and Peter's dad have been best friends since they were six makes this little incestuous group even tighter.

I have a special bond with Quinn... no, not that way. He was like a brother to me... a very big one, at that. Men never talk about their feelings regarding one another, but I know Quinn loves Anthony like the brother he never had, and it's obviously reciprocal. It was Nancy (Quinn's fiancé) who told me how they became so tight. In all our years together, Anthony never told me the story.

While Quinn was always the biggest and strongest kid in his grades, he was born with a speech impediment and took longer to process his words. As you can guess, he was ridiculed relentlessly through grade school. When he took exception to being treated like that, he was punished by the school and parents for being so vicious to the smaller boys. That's when Anthony stepped in.

It was Anthony's first week at his new school when a boy from an older grade made fun of Quinn. Little Anthony gave him a shiner before he got his ass kicked. The thing was, he'd do it over and over, no matter who the insulting boy was. One day, Quinn asked him why he was fighting these other guys for him, and he said... "Because if you do, they'll be dead." And that was how their friendship started.

Last night, after work, I was sitting on our couch while Anthony had a shower. We lived in a small one-bedroom apartment, but we were in the market to buy a home after the wedding. I was laughing at an old MASH episode I'd seen many times when Anthony walked out with his wet hair all disheveled and a towel wrapped around his waist. Fuck, he was sexy!

"What ya hiding under the towel?" I gave him a sexy look, using a deeper, sexy voice.

"Not much. But you already knew that." I hated it when he talked like that. The man was like sex on a stick to me, yet he put himself down all the time. "Knock it off, Anthony!" He gave me a bashful smile and headed for the kitchen. "Wait! Can you come and sit with me for a minute?"

He gave me a curious look but eventually acquiesced and came to the couch, sitting beside me. I pulled my leg up and faced him directly. "You're not going to give me the 'we have to talk speech', are you?"

Now, it was my turn, and I returned the curious look. "What's that supposed to mean? Yes, I'd like to talk to my soon-to-be husband. Is that okay?"

He blushed. "Yeah, of course. Sorry."

I suppose we all wish our significant others were perfect, but no one is. Anthony is as close as one could be, but his self-loathing and low self-esteem about our physical relationship has been the one dark spot. No matter how many times I've tried to get him to talk about it, he retreats and then rebounds like nothing is wrong. Well, tonight, we were dealing with this. I didn't want this to be a black cloud in our marriage.

"Okay, sweetie. Give it up." I got straight to the point. So straight, he had no idea what I was talking about. "How can my man be so confident in the real world but lack so much in our private life?" I saw the fear in his eyes instantly.

He grabbed at my hands, "I'm sorry. Tell me what to fix, and I'll fix it."

Before I could further explain myself, he went completely sideways...

"I knew this day was coming. Please, Sophie, don't give up on me. Whatever you want... whoever you want, I'll make it work. Please, don't give up on me."

I had no idea where that came from. He sounded so desperate. He already gave me what I wanted, but what was this, whoever thing? "What do you mean, whoever?"

"I know who I am, Sophie, and I know my limitations. You could easily be with someone better, but you'd never find someone who will love you like I do!"

This wasn't the conversation I was expecting. Where did all this come from? "Anthony! You're not making any sense. I don't want someone better. There is no one better. I love you!" That seemed to settle him down a little, enough that I could gather my thoughts and try to bring this back to where I originally wanted. But that was once again derailed...

"Sophie, I want you to be the happiest wife. I want you to always feel loved and fulfilled, and if it takes another man to give you what I can't, just know I'll find a way to support you."

What the actual fuck! I got up from the couch and stared down at him. "What are you talking about, Anthony? You're scaring the shit out of me right now!" He reached for my hands and led me to sit back down.

"I knew from the first day I saw you, Sophie, that you were out of my league. I never wanted to let myself get close to you because I knew at some point I'd disappoint you, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't help but fall in love with you." I tried to pull my hands away, but his gentle yet strong grip refused to let go. "But I'm so far gone now that I will do anything to keep you happy. Even if that means it takes other men to sexually satisfy you. I'll hate every minute of it, but I'd do it for you if it made you happy."

That was it! My anger boiled over, and I ripped my hands from his grip. He winced as my fury brought me back on my feet. "Anthony Fisher! What the fuck are you talking about? I don't need other men to sexually satisfy me! That's what you're for, you idiot!!" I stormed into the kitchen for no other reason than to make a scene. Where did this come from? Moments later, I heard Anthony shuffle into the kitchen.

"Sophie. It's not something I want! I hate the idea, but I'd hate losing you more! Look... I'm a realist. I know women have certain expectations in the bedroom, and I'm painfully aware that I don't measure up in that department. I..."

"Are you saying that all women want to get fucked by a big cock? Is that what you're trying to say?"

"I know women like it... Yes." His response was almost a whisper.

"And you know this because? Were you secretly a woman, Anthony? Is this how you know what all women want?" I stormed past him and went straight to the closet to grab my coat.

"Where are you going?" His voice sounded jittery.

"Out! Away from all your toxic bullshit!" I pushed out the door, slamming it for emphasis. I knew it would piss off the other tenants, but I'd apologize later.

Once in my car, I drove off with no destination in mind, but after twenty minutes of mindless driving, I pulled into a pool hall on the other side of town. I wasn't a dive, but it wasn't classy either. Fortunately, it had some booths off to the side, and I was able to score one for some privacy. It took quite some time before someone came to grab my order.

"First time?" The old guy asked.

"Pardon?" I didn't understand his question.

"I normally don't do table service, but it's slow today, and you look like your head's a million miles away."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I can come up to the bar."

"I'm already here. What can I get you?"

"Any domestic draft would be great."

"Coming up." The old guy sauntered to a few tables, doing a quick wipe before he made it back behind the bar.

That's when my phone went off. I expected to see Anthony's name, but was surprised when it was Nancy. "Hello?"

"Are you okay? Quinn's been on the phone with Anthony, and it doesn't sound good. What happened?"

"I wish I knew, Nancy. Everything just got so fucked up." I felt the weight of my own words; the emotions were coming to the surface now.

"Where are you, Sophie? You don't need to be alone right now."

"I honestly don't know. Across town..." The barkeep walked up to my table with my draft. I looked at him as he placed my beer down. "Sir? What's the name of your establishment?"

"You make it sound so swanky." He gave a deep chuckle. "Mo's. Mo's billiards. And before you ask, yes. I'm Mo." He smiled. "Come up and pay me when you're done with your phone call." He turned away and headed to one of the billiard tables to talk to the guys playing.

"Mo's Billiards? Where the hell is that?" Nancy spoke to me through the phone. "Never mind, I'll Google it. Sit tight; I'll be there as soon as I can."

I thanked her and put my phone down, grabbing the beer mug and taking a serious gulp. It was cold and bitter, but it hit the spot. I sat there reflecting on what had just transpired. I knew Anthony had self-esteem issues, and I always thought I could work through it with him. He had so many other amazing qualities that I was prepared to support and assure him when he needed it, for however long it was necessary. But this? He basically told me he would be okay if I cuckolded him. Allow me to seek sex with another man... a larger cock. I reckon some women would welcome such capitulation. Have her cake and eat it too, I suppose. Unfortunately, that woman wasn't me. I never understood the concept, and anyone I knew or who knew someone in the lifestyle never lasted. Feelings eventually changed, respect lost... it was a recipe for disaster, and here my future husband tells me he'd not only be okay but support me in the debauchery.

I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn't even register that I finished my beer. Deciding that another was needed, I pulled out from the booth and was about to walk over and settle up with Mo when I saw him at the bar. You couldn't miss Quinn if you tried. He was called Jumbo for a reason.

He walked towards me, carrying two beers that he placed on the table, and looked down at me (he looked down at everyone, technically). "Looks like you could use another." He smiled. I began to break down, and the big man enveloped me in the largest, most gentle hug. He held me as long as I needed until I finally patted his back and pulled back.

"Quinn. What are you doing here? Where's Nancy?"

"She thought it would be better for me to come." It was an honest statement. I liked Nancy a lot, but I loved this big guy. The gentle giant had this way about him that made you trust him completely.

"Quinn? What's gotten into Anthony? Did he tell you anything?"

He shook his head. "Nothing in detail. He just said he may have screwed things up with you, but he wouldn't expand on it. I was hoping you would."

I was terrified of telling Quinn about the things Anthony said. They were best friends, brothers, and I didn't want to be the wedge that divided them. I looked at Quinn and struggled with what to say.

"Sophie. It's okay. Antonio is my brother, but he ain't perfect. I promise whatever you tell me stays between us unless he needs a tune-up." His steady stare slowly morphed into a grin.

"Like you would ever harm Anthony," I smirked back.

He gave a soft chuckle. "I'm not even sure I could if I tried. He's the toughest guy I know."

The admiration these two guys had for each other was most touching. It made me wish I had a friend like that. Even Gloria and I had drifted apart over the years. I took a sip of my beer, and he sat back in the booth, waiting for me to spill the beans. It took some time to get going, as I started right from the beginning when I noticed his self-esteem issues around sex. Of course, I reiterated that there was nothing wrong with our bedroom and, in fact, he had far surpassed any of my past lovers. When I talked about what happened tonight, I could see Quinn's face get tighter like he felt sorry for us, or maybe it was for Anthony. By the time I wound down, he had his empty mug sitting in front of him. He tapped the mug a couple of times and caught Mo's attention.

I watched as the barkeeper poured another mug. "I thought he didn't do table service?" I joked and took a sip of my still-full glass.

"Mo's a friend." He said it so casually, like I should've already known that. Moments later, Mo was at our table and dropped the mug off.

"I'm not your bitch Jumbo." He joked.

"You ain't nobody's bitch Mr. Potts," Quinn smiled back. "How's Kyle?"

The old guy's eyes lit up with the mention of the name. "Kyle's great! Got himself a wife and daughter.... my first grandchild. A big house over in Dalton Heights." Mo looked happy. "He really turned his life around." I watched the exchange between these two men, feeling totally lost.

"Mo, meet Sophie. This fine lady is engaged to Antonio." If it were possible, I think Mo's face lit up even more. Mo put his hand out for a handshake, and I offered mine in return.

"It's a pleasure, Sophie. Quite a man your fiancé. My son owes his life to Anthony and Jumbo."

I was stunned. "Oh! Did they save his life or something?"

Mo let out a deep laugh. "In a manner of speaking. It was more of a tough love approach." He pulled the white rag from his shoulders, wiping a water stain on the table. "Scared him straight. Had his back, these two. I thought the Mrs. and I were going to lose him." He straightened up. "Enough of an old man's rumblings. You tell your man, Mo Potts, says hi." He gave me a smile, patted Quinn on the shoulder, and headed back to the bar.

"You want to tell me what that was all about?" I glared at Quinn.

"We knew Kyle back in high school. He was getting mixed up with a gang, and Antonio caught him before he did something stupid. In fact, he kicked his ass. When Kyle tried to remove himself from the gang, he was getting threatened, so the two of us became his best friends until they left him alone."

"You guys aren't friends anymore after something like that?"

"Yeah, but not tight. He was way too smart to hang out with guys like us. Got himself a fancy business degree and moved up in the world." Quinn shrugged his shoulders like it was no big deal. There was more to that story, but I had my own issue to deal with, and I grabbed Quinn's forearm.

"What do I do about Anthony, Quinn? I don't know how to deal with this." After some quiet deliberation, he finally spoke.

"Did he ever tell you about his family?"

"Anytime I asked about his family, he just shut down. He's not even inviting them to the wedding. I don't know if he even has a brother or sister... besides you, that is." He smiled at the reference.

"His dad left when he was very young, and he doesn't know who he is. He had an older sister, or still does." Quinn's face got serious. "He doesn't talk about them because of the pain they caused him. He's told me some things here and there when he's had a little too much, but he's never come out and told me everything."

"Like... like did they beat him or something?"

He shook his head, "Worse. They fucked with his mind. His mom was..." he looked around like he was trying to find the right word. "a feminist, but not the good kind. She was cruel. She and her daughter taunted and tortured Antonio all through puberty. His sister would make fun of his penis, and his mom would join in and tell him he'd never be able to keep a woman like his dad couldn't. They hated men, and they used Antonio as an outlet for their anger." He took a sip of his beer. "He's never recovered. It's plagued him his whole adult life. It was one of the reasons he barely dated, and when he did, it would last a week or two. Hell, I was surprised when he started bringing you around."

"Why?"

"You were everything he feared. Beautiful, smart, friendly. It was painful watching him sabotage himself repeatedly. Pete and I tried talking sense into him, but his mom and sister cut him deep... mentally. I'm no shrink, but I think that was what made him so tough. Physical pain hurt way less, so he carved out his way as best as he could."

"Didn't you ever try to get him into counseling or something?" The look on his face was clear. "I'm guessing he didn't listen." My shoulders slumped.

"He's built a huge wall around himself, Sophie. You're the only one who truly got past it. I'll be honest, I thought you were the one who finally broke his curse. I've never seen my boy so happy. He needs you, Sophie." He looked embarrassed. "I know it's not fair to dump that on you... But it's true."

I sat there and blinked at the big guy. All these years, I had no idea what he had been through. I was going to give Quinn shit for not telling me sooner, but I knew the man code is especially tight between these two, and he even admitted that it looked like Anthony had gotten over things.

"Is that why he's so protective?" If I've seen it once, I've seen it a hundred times. Anthony watched over me, his friends, and anyone who couldn't stand up for themselves.

"I don't know, maybe? I'm a few bricks light for knowing stuff like that." Quinn smirked and chugged the last of his beer. "He's the best of us all, Sophie." His look was serious but soft. I swear this guy loved Anthony more than me.

He stood up and reached into his pocket, pulling out a wrinkled piece of paper. He flattened it out with his fingers and handed it to me. I looked at the phone number printed in red ink.

"What's this?" I looked up.

"Priscilla's phone number."

"Priscilla? Who is..." It hit me, "Is this?"

"Yeah, his mom. His kryptonite. His nightmare. I've been keeping tabs on her and her daughter. I needed to be sure they stayed out of his life. I'd give you their address, but unless you have a priest, a lawyer, and a gun with you, I wouldn't recommend it."

"What do you want me to do with it?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. Maybe nothing. I just thought you should have it." He looked around the bar. "You good, Sophie? I promised Nancy I would pick up some pizza for dinner."

I stood up and hugged the big guy. "Thanks, Quinn," I whispered into his shoulder.

He gave me a small smile and turned to leave. He called out to Mo and waved on his way out. I sat back down, wondering what I was going to do with all this information. Surprisingly, it took no time at all. I finished my beer and carried the empty mugs up to the bar.

"Thanks, Mo. What do I owe you?"

The old man leaned on the bar. "Jumbo got it, honey. Next time, bring that man of yours. I haven't seen him in a few years."

"I will." My answer made him smile. It was a good look on him.

Thirty minutes later, I was walking down the hall, about to enter our apartment. I wasn't sure what to expect when I opened it, so I tried to prepare for anything. Based on how he was when I left, I half expected him to rush me at the door, but I was met with nothing. I hung up my coat and slowly walked into the living room, but he was nowhere to be seen. Did he go out?

"Anthony?" I called out. No reply.

I made my way into the kitchen, "Anthony?" Still nothing.

Never in a million years would I have ever thought Anthony would hurt himself, but his out-of-character desperate actions earlier caused me to fear it now.

"Anthony!" I called louder.

The bathroom door was open, and it was empty. The only room left was our bedroom, and the door was shut. My heart was doing its best to come right up my throat. A queasiness settled into my stomach. As I reached for the doorknob, I prayed to God that my Anthony hadn't done something stupid.

Despite my lack of courage, I pushed the door open slowly. Only when it was fully open could I see him, sitting like a statue on the edge of the bed, looking out the window.

"Anthony? Baby?" Nothing.

I approached the other side of the bed and moved until I was sitting on my knees behind him. I put my hands on his shoulders. "Anthony, please talk to me."

"I lost you, didn't I?" His voice was coarse and gravelly. "I knew I would, one day."

I pushed off my knees and wrapped my arms and legs around him from behind. "Never! It'll never happen." I spoke right into his ear. I felt his rigid posture soften and eventually slouch. Then he did something I'd never seen before... he cried.

My heart was breaking for my man. This was a level of vulnerability I had never witnessed, and it devastated me. I held him for a long time, gently rocking, kissing anything I could reach with my lips. I slowly pulled back until we fell backward and rolled to the left, with me still spooning him... well, I was more attached like a backpack than spooned as my legs and arms were still wrapped around him.

"Quinn came looking for me," I whispered. I felt his breath hitch at my comment. "He told me about your mom and sister." He flinched, but I held tighter. "He loves you, Anthony... almost as much as I do." His posture softened again. "We're going to take this on together. We're going to find a way to fix it once and for all. You and me. I promise."

**

Surprisingly, it took little persuasion to get him into therapy, as long as I went with him. I was surprised that he wanted me to be a part of something so personal. It was tough, tougher than I could've ever imagined. The stuff that came out of his mouth was frightening. I had no idea about the pain he endured as a young boy. How he became the man he is today was nothing short of a miracle.

As tough as it was to listen, it was even harder to know I couldn't do a thing to change it or lessen it. It wasn't as simple as saying something like his cock was the best I ever had. It was deeper than that. I offered to delay the wedding if either he or the therapist felt it was necessary, but when the therapist said it was Anthony's decision, he was having none of it. Every night, I worked with Anthony, using the tools and ideas our therapist had suggested. Some nights were horrible, while others were rewarding. We hadn't been having sex throughout the process, as I didn't want to put any pressure on him. I told him I was available whenever he felt he was ready, and when the week before our wedding came, he asked if we could do it on our wedding night. I understood the symbolism and was excited at the prospect.

The one thing that remained, that truly held Anthony back, was his inability to confront his tormentors. As far as he had come, he was terrified that she would somehow get inside his head again and ruin everything we had accomplished. The therapist was pushing hard on this, and I finally spoke up, telling him to back off. His push was like a trigger. I don't know how he couldn't see it, but I saw the changes in Anthony when he did.

Our last night together before our wedding was the Thursday before. We had a quiet night in, following up on the last details of our big day, and enjoyed the calm before the storm. I sipped my wine, watching Anthony fuss over the smallest of details, wanting to make sure I got the wedding I wanted. I stared and soaked in the sight of him, thanking my lucky stars we were able to move forward as well as we did. I only wish he could find the strength to confront his mom and sister. I wanted it so bad, I wished I could do it for him... suddenly, I had an idea.

"Babe?" I called out to him. He looked at me right away, and when I motioned for him to sit by me, he grabbed his beer and plunked beside me.

Out of habit, I swung my legs over his lap, and he instinctively began rubbing my foot with his empty hand. "I want to talk to you about something," He nodded casually, "Something about your mom." I clarified.

He no longer reacted so negatively when the topic was brought up, and I was hoping I could progress it a little further tonight. "Although I didn't like the way the therapist was pushing you, I have to concede that a confrontation with them would go a long way." He didn't look at me, but I could tell he was getting uncomfortable. "I want to help you." I blurted.

"Help me? You've already helped. What could you possibly do to help with that?" He was now massaging both my feet.

"What if I called her?" I took a shot, and I hoped we could discuss it rationally. Before he could throw up his defenses, I carefully pushed forward. "I want to tell her how amazing you've become despite all that she and your sister put on you. I want her to know she failed at ruining your life. I need her to know you are loved and will be an amazing father." I didn't realize my passion for the whole thing as a tear formed in the corner of my eye.

He stopped massaging my feet and leaned over, gently wiping tears from my face. "You'd really do that?" He pressed.

"In a heartbeat!" I replied with conviction.

I looked into his eyes and could see the struggle ensue. "I don't want you fighting my battles, Sophie."

"WHY NOT!" I almost yelled. "Why can't a woman fight for her man? Would you not walk through fire for me? If you did, does that make me weak?" I could see that my outburst surprised him.

"No one could ever consider you the weak one in our relationship." He was sheepish.

"No one is weak in this relationship, Anthony. No one."

He got up and wandered in a tight circle, mumbling to himself. I could see he was battling one of his mental demons, so I jumped up and ran my hand lovingly through his hair. "Forget I brought it up, baby. It's a discussion for another time."

"No. No, you're right. It needs to be done, and maybe you're the push I need."

I was shocked. "Seriously?" I searched his eyes with mine.

"I'm not sure how, but I'll track her number down, and maybe after the wedding, we can do this." He gave me a sad smile.

"What if... what if I had that number already?" He was surprised. "Quinn." Just saying his name wiped the concern from his face.

"Yeah... Jumbo." He shrugged his shoulders. "I wouldn't know what to say?"

"You don't have to say anything. Let me do the talking. I'll put it on speaker so you can hear the whole thing. What do you think?"

Ten minutes later, we huddled around our little dining set. I retrieved the paper from my jewelry box and put it on the table. With a final check on Anthony, I blocked my number and dialed, hoping I was doing the right thing. By the seventh ring, I was ready to hang up and accept that the confrontation would have to wait, but then...

"Must be important if you're going to keep ringing!"

"Hell... Hello? May I speak with Priscilla, please?"

"It's my phone. Who else did you think you were going to get?"

The woman was all charm (sarcasm, in case you missed it). "You don't know me, but my name is Sophie."

"Uh-huh."

"I wanted to talk to you about your son... Anthony." All snappy comebacks were temporarily disposed of.

"What about him? Is he dead or something?" The edge in her voice wasn't as strong, and she must've put me on speaker as well; her voice sounded different.

"Dead? Oh, gosh, no. I'm about to marry him."

"She's gonna do what?" A second voice came from somewhere in the room.

"She says she's going to marry your brother," Priscilla answered the other voice that I now knew was his sister.

"She got rocks in her head?" The sister followed up.

"So little Tony found a woman willing to do charity, I see. Well, good for him." Priscilla expressed.

"Bad for you, honey. You know he's pretty much dickless, right?" The pure venom from his sister was unbelievable.

"So, are you inviting us to the wedding or something? I'm sure little Tony would love that." Her smoker's crackle was only outdone by the daughter's snorting.

"Oh, fuck no! I just called to tell you that despite the cruelty you and your bitch of a daughter put him through, he's become the best man a woman could want. Loving, loyal, hard-working, and sexy as fuck! I just wanted to let you know you failed, you miserable cunts." I almost giggled at Anthony's reaction.

"Listen here, missy..."

"Oh, shut up, you old cow! You've been eating too much carpet. Who says, missy, anyway?" Anthony muffled his laugh. "So, how's the alpha female life treating ya? Still living with your bitch of a daughter, I see. Tell me, are you two taking care of each other's needs, 'cause I doubt any self-respecting man would risk your rotten holes."

"Who the fuck do you think you are bitch?! I'll kick your fucking ass!" The sister jumped in. "Maybe you can live with a tiny, dicked pussy like my brother, but we have standards!" She continued.

"You know, it's creepy that you are so obsessed with your bothers cock. Talk about penis envy. You should get some help... like seriously!"

"Listen Bitch..."

"I don't think so. When was the last time you saw your brother cunt face? He's all man now, in every sense of the word, and we're going to have babies and be happy while you and that bitch of a mother you have, carry on your pathetic empowered woman shit. What's it like still being single? Can't find a man stupid enough to buy your shit, can you?" I had no idea if I was right, but the stunned silence made me think I had hit it right.

"Shut up, Keri!" Priscilla admonished the fiery daughter. "Just shut up for a minute!" I heard her take a deep breath. "You've got quite the mouth on you, Silphie, or whatever your name is. Is there a true purpose for this call, or did you just want to insult us?"

"I called to see what kind of woman you were. I didn't start the name-calling, but I can be a bitch with the best of them." Sounded like Keri was going to say something, but she was shushed. With the break in insults, I asked the big question. "Why?"

"Why what?" Priscilla replied.

"Why would you torture a young boy, your own son, like you did? What did you get out of it?"

"He was weak, like his father. Always wanting affection... he was bound to be useless, just like his father. You'll figure it out, dearie. The disappointments will rack up, and soon, you'll find nothing but death in your bedroom. Give me a call then, and I'll direct you to some real men."

I couldn't help it; I started laughing. This woman was bonkers. "Yeah, I wouldn't sit by the phone waiting." It was my turn to sigh. "You have no idea what you threw away, Priscilla, and the sad part is you'll never know. You'll never know your grandchildren. It's not like your bitch of a daughter would ever let a man get her pregnant." The silence almost made me think I got through to her... almost.

"Keep your head up bitch! I'm going to find out where you and that pussy of a brother of mine are getting hitched, and I'll enjoy wiping that pompous smirk from your face!"

Before I could let my snippy retort fly, Anthony pushed his face over the phone. "I'd like to see you try, Keri."

"Ooooh, the pussy speaks! Aren't we tough?" Keri taunted back.

"Tell you what, Keri. Send me your number, and I'll text you all the details. I'd love for you and Mom to show up." I think she was more surprised than I was, but neither of us said a word.

"Do you mean that, Anthony?" It was Priscilla.

"Absolutely. It would give me the chance to call you both out in front of all our friends and Sophie's family. Everyone will know the hell you put me through. I'm done covering for you at my expense."

"Oh yeah, wait until they hear what I have to say." Keri found her voice again.

"Bring it, you bitch. All you have are derogatory words. Everyone there knows who I am, they'll see your spiteful words for what they are... bullshit. And when you lose your temper, like you usually do, I'll have dozens of witnesses vouch that you hit me first before I cave your face in." He was so calm. If he used different words, you'd think he was having a normal conversation with a friend... it was unnerving.

"A... an... Anthony." The quiet voice was Priscilla. "There's no need for all this anger. I was a shitty mom, I admit it. You have no idea what I had to deal with, and then your sister got involved with..."

"Mom?" Anthony spoke firmly but softly.

"Yes, Anthony?"

"Can you do me a favor?"

"Yes... I'd like to try."

"Fuck off and die." That said, he walked out of the kitchen.

I heard a few more words coming from the phone's speaker, but I shut it off and chased after my fiancé. He was sitting on the couch, looking as white as a ghost. I moved to the coffee table and sat facing him. I reached for his arm and lightly grabbed it.

"Anthony?"

"I'm sorry you had to hear that?" He stared at the carpet.

"Why are you sorry? I'm the one who called. I had no idea what to expect, but I sure as hell didn't expect... that." Anthony snorted softly. "Maybe that did nothing for you, baby, but it was enlightening for me. To know how you pulled yourself up and away from that to become who you are," I kissed his cheek. "And when you came to my defense, I... I couldn't be prouder of you."

He pulled me onto his lap and cradled me, wrapping his security around me. We rocked back and forth as I gently rubbed the back of his neck and kissed his head.

"Anthony?" He murmured, "Would you really punch your sister in the face?"

He eventually nodded his head to confirm it. "My fear would be that I wouldn't stop there." His words came out in a whisper.

If nothing else, I knew we had a long way to go with therapy. He was starting to see the real source of his inner pain, but the hostility he still carried was unnerving. I know the type of man he is, and he was being truthful in his quiet remark.

**

The wedding went off without a hitch. Priscilla and her bitch were nowhere to be seen. I didn't think they would have the balls to show up, but I did tell Quinn about our phone call, and he assured me that neither of them would have a chance to spoil our day. Like Anthony, I knew he meant it.

Our reception wasn't big, but the smaller group stayed the entire night, and we danced up a storm. The highlight was when Quinn, Peter, and a bunch of guys lifted us in chairs and danced us around each other. I thought my mom was going to have a heart attack, but having Quinn under me seemed to quell my father's fears.

Anthony and I dragged ourselves into our hotel honeymoon suite a little after 2am. I immediately went into the bathroom and began the process of undoing all the pageantry of the day. When I pulled my hair out, I looked in the mirror and smiled as I saw my wedding band. I was tired, but I was hoping Anthony and I could consummate our love as a married couple. Wearing nothing but my ring and a white thong, I slowly opened the bathroom door.

My eyes quickly moved to the bed, where my husband had passed out on his back. His pants were at his ankles, jacket on the floor, while he lay in his white dress shirt. I leaned against the door frame and smiled. There was always the morning, I thought.

I knelt on the floor and finished removing his pants and socks. I moved onto the bed and realized the shirt was going to be a bigger issue. I carefully straddled his hips and cautiously began undoing the buttons, one at a time. His face looked so peaceful, I couldn't help leaning down and giving him a gentle kiss. The moment I pulled my face away, his eyes opened fully.

"GOTCHA!" His arms wrapped me up and turned me onto my back while I squealed in surprise. His forehead was gently pressed against mine. "Thank you for falling for my trap, beautiful."

"Is it a trap if this is where I want to be?" I stroked the back of his neck. "Where I'm meant to be."

His kisses came hard and passionate. Not five minutes later, he was balls deep with my legs over his shoulders. He was plowing me with everything he had, dominating me, claiming me as his. It was hands down the best fucking of my life!

From there, we went for a shower, where he kneeled on the floor, playing with my pussy, while eating my ass. Oh, how I wanted his mouth on my swollen pussy, but I'd never ask him to do that with his cum in me. This was new, but fuck I loved it. His oral skills had powers over me, turning me into a wanting slut. After a series of orgasms, he stood up and mounted me from behind, slowly gyrating inside me as my tits rubbed on the expensive tile. He had one hand on my hip and the other gently wrapped around the front of my throat... I was a puddle of desire.

"Take me, Anthony," I whispered through my groans of ecstasy. "I'm yours... now and forever!"

He grunted and ground so hard I thought he was going to lift my feet off the shower floor. I wouldn't say he was different, but something in him had changed. A change for the better. He was more confident, and I loved that he was taking me the way he wanted, and he wanted me to feel pleasure... he wanted me to feel protected... he wanted me to feel loved.

He succeeded tenfold.

**

It was that evening that our daughter was conceived. It could have been the following morning or the next evening, I guess, but my gut tells me it was our wedding night shower.

With his mind refocused, I enjoyed dancing with my husband, thinking about our erotic session to follow. Oh, we had our issues like any other couple. His therapy went on for months, and with hard work and guidance, we learned how to identify his triggers and deal with them. The damage those two women did still rears its ugly head from time to time. We never did hear from them again. We heard that Priscilla died a few years ago, never reconnecting with her son or meeting her grandchildren. Scott, our youngest, was physically a combination of both of us, but he was his dad on the inside, and nothing made me happier. Charlene looked like me, but she, too, had the character traits of her father. She was tough on the boys she dated, but when she found the right one, she was loyal and loving to a fault... sound familiar?

You could argue that they also carried my inherent character. The desire to see things through and never give up on those you love. Yeah... I could see it in both of them. Anthony swears they are all me... typical Anthony.

"So, I guess we're really family now?" Quinn teased us as he and Nancy danced beside us.

Yep, you guessed it. Charlene married Patrick, the son of Nancy and Quinn. It had nothing to do with us being friends. Sure, they knew each other growing up, but he was two years younger than Charlene, and as a result, they never hung out in the same circles. They were acquaintances, for the most part, thanks to the family BBQs and parties.

That was all they were to each other, until that fateful night. By all accounts, it was a miracle that Patrick was even there. I'd tell you the story, but it's not mine to tell. Maybe one day, she'll share it.