Forgot To Tell You Ch. 05

This is going to be a slow burn.

FIL begins his campaign while husband faces his past.

Tags: NTR, slow burn, voyeur husband, trauma, therapist, father in law, jealous, seduction, manipulation, guilt

Disclaimer:

For readers 18+. All characters are 18+. This is a work of fiction; any resemblance to real individuals is purely coincidental unless stated otherwise.

Content Warning:

Series explores: Cheating/Cuckolding | Reluctance & Body Betrayal | Pain-Pleasure Dynamics | Power Imbalance & Control

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Chapter 5

Hurriedly, Reinhard retreated to his room, closing the door behind himself and sitting on the bed. His mind had locked on to the moment when she had tried to close her thighs the same way Madeline would when she and Reinhard had first started being intimate. That had triggered him.

Again, his hands shook. He had almost gotten caught, but he wasn't sure if it was that or because of his worsening mental and physical state. He dug his fingers sharply into his palms and focused on the discomforting pain to center himself. Exhaling, he listened.

They spoke after a few seconds--their voices carried easily through the gap underneath the door.

"What the fuck was that?" Reinhard heard the heavy footfalls of his rival and held his breath.

But he wasn't frightened or even nervous, he was excited--he hadn't felt alive in years.

"Amor, what is it?" Ailin spoke, she sounded worried.

"Nothing baby. It must have been the heater coming on or something." Noah closed the door.

"We have got to remember to close the door." Noah's muffled voice receded into the room.

That was the last thing Reinhard heard clearly.

Reinhard smiled at that--his teeth too big for his mouth. His tongue flicked out between his old, thin lips to lick his teeth--imagining the bite marks he would leave all over her body. Then he licked his thin lips, trying to imagine a hint of the taste that would linger there for him later.

Just like his memory at times, he couldn't control his hunger. He had seen the way Noah made her writhe and grip the sheets, he was sure he could do it better. And he wouldn't stop like a concerned pussy to check on her.

It had been a long time since he had practiced his restraint, and seeing her like that--so vulnerable and exposed--stirred his memories again. He hadn't been able to resist and unbuckled his belt, the noise grabbing Noah's attention.

Fucking cops. They were always alert.

But his mind shifted to Ailin.

Seeing someone who resembled his late wife so much while naked--God, he hadn't felt hunger like that in over three years. That was an image he wasn't going to waste. He was going to replay it over and over again until he could see it in person again. Until Ailin was Madeline.

He closed his eyes and let his memories take over. The newest one of that blonde angel he would corrupt, overlapping with Madeline--spread on the bed, waiting for him.

The image and sound of her throwing her head back--laughter dripping with desire--invaded his mind.

She even laughs the same, he remembered.

Leather dragged against his slacks as he pulled his belt out of the loops. He held it in his hands, testing it, pulling it--making sure the leather was still strong. It would be his tool with Madeline--Ailin--Madailin.

Reinhard had to see her body again. It was a physiological need. He would suffer until he had that.

Besides, she had been his wife, hadn't she? That body was owed to him. Her soul was meant to be his.

With that thought, he laid back and reached into his briefs to grab his barely hard cock--grunting--approval. He imagined those milk white thighs wrapped around his ears and a rumble emanated from his chest.

He was hungry.

*

Noah

"I hope he didn't eat my leftovers." Noah was pre-annoyed.

Reinhard had a bad habit of eating any food Noah had clearly marked for himself. He was going home early, between classes to hopefully avoid it happening again. He turned onto their street.

Again, Navi's car was there. It had been there several times in the last couple of weeks since she had gotten upset with him and he found her hanging out with his father. She would always give him the excuse that she was going to swim or to wait on him, but he would rush home expecting something bad to be happening--trying to catch them.

Guilt would overwhelm him every time he would find her there doing exactly what she said she was there to do. That didn't stop his suspicions though.

And she wasn't supposed to be there today. Last he had heard from her the night before, she was going to be busy studying the entire day and he wouldn't hear from her until late in the evening.

This new sensation in his stomach as he thought about the situation was making him super uncomfortable. It was like he could feel something moving in there, taking hold of his stomach, his lungs, his spine--he didn't know how to describe it.

Finding the door open again, he walked in. He expected silence, or even for Navi and his father to be in the middle of a rapt conversation. But there was rock music playing. For the most part, that was what his dad preferred. He was probably working out in the garage gym he had built.

Noah went to the fridge and opened it. Religion wasn't his thing, but he managed to throw up a little prayer to the universe for whatever god was listening as the door swung open.

"Thank God!" He sighed--relieved that his food was still there.

He pulled out the white styrofoam tray of noodles and teriyaki chicken--without the sauce--and tossed it into the microwave. Walking to the living room, he noticed Navi's tank top, pants, and flip-flops on the guest bathroom floor. She had probably changed into her bathing suit and was in the pool right at that moment.

The music went silent for a moment and then Noah heard hammering and Reinhard's voice--he sounded pissed--before the next song started to play. Was he working on something? Noah wondered as he walked to the sliding glass door that led to the backyard and opened it.

"Hey Na--vi?" The pool was empty.

Noah's mind shuttered--it was blank for a moment as he tried to process the information and failed to. He closed the sliding door and walked towards the rooms. As he drew closer, he could hear the music getting louder--not in the garage like he originally thought. It was the metal--borderline screamo type of shit that Reinhard seemed to like from his time in the military. The singer's screams were so bad though. It's almost like she had improvised her part without music.

How can he listen to this? It's not even the good kind of screaming.

All the doors were closed except his. He walked up to it--stopping abruptly. Through the gap in the door, he heard the hammering louder--only the sound was different up close. There was a distinct sharp slapping sound followed immediately by what he had thought was the hammering. As realization hit him with each slap and thud, his vision started to darken at the edges--his hearing muffled.

That feeling under his stomach intensified. It was like snakes or tentacles slithering inside of him. Some reached his lungs while others coiled around his spine.

His hand shook as he pressed his palm against it, wanting to push it completely open--but he couldn't. He couldn't even look up, to see what the gap offered him. What the door promised lay behind it.

The thought, though--the mere thought of what that could be made him feel something more just beneath those... tendrils. A rumbling deep underneath them, in his loins. Betrayal that was closer--worse than the betrayal he felt from those around him--it was his own.

Noah felt his arousal shift inside him, his head losing the slightest bit of pressure as his blood went elsewhere.

Eyes blinking in confusion, he felt his empty stomach somersault. The smell of noodles, chicken, and sweaty bodies permeated the air. He breathed in--

And dry heaved.

But the music was too loud for anyone but him to hear. After a few moments, he collected himself.

Finally, he pushed the door open.

Reinhard was on his feet. His legs--like tree trunks rooted to the ground--stable as he drove his pelvis against the lithe, caramel-toned body he held up. That body was familiar to Noah although her nudity was new.

Sweaty, supple flesh rippled every time their bodies crashed together.

Reinhard held Navi by her ass--his fingers digging into her cheeks while her back rested against the wall and her legs rested against his biceps. Her small feet trembled in the air above his shoulders and her hands were locked together around his neck, clinging for dear life.

Every time Reinhard thrust into her, Navi would cry out and whimper, but her moans were drowned out by the music. Her face was sweaty with exertion, her beautiful dark brown hair was plastered to her forehead, half falling out of her messy bun while her messy bun wobbled--threatening to come undone completely.

The music ended at that moment--but another song never came on, signaling the end of the playlist. Noah couldn't move. He couldn't breathe.

"Fuck! That exotic pussy always feels so tight no matter how many times I fuck it. Doesn't that cuck fuck you?" Reinhard growled into her calves, biting them.

'How many times'? Noah felt like he was hit by a semi.

How many times had they done this?

"Oh--oh--ohhh." Was all Navi could manage each time her boyfriend's dad drove into her.

Of course she liked it. Reinhard was bigger, better than Noah--stronger, more experienced.

Reinhard pushed her harder against the wall and lifted his left hand to her breasts, pinching her nipples hard until she screamed.

"Don't ignore me, you little cock sleeve."

"I'm--fuck! Sorry--sir! Heee--wants to--oh pleeeassse, sir!"

"He. Wants. What?" Reinhard slammed into her on every word.

"To--wAIIIT!" Navi threw her head back--her scream was pleasure and pain intersecting--as Reinhard grabbed her by the nipple and shook her tit.

Her tiny feet violently shook, her toes straining, trying to find purchase somewhere--anywhere, but she couldn't. Reinhard laughed, feeling her leg muscles and tendons shift--twitching on his arms.

Noah shattered at that moment. He wanted to scream at them, he wanted to hurt them--but his mouth opened voiceless and he couldn't move, his spine caught in the vice of his pained lust.

He needed to stop it.

But all he could do was watch.

So he did.

He stood there, watching his own father--the monster who had tormented him as a child, the man who had rejected him--take the love of his life. A young woman so sweet and pretty who couldn't see herself beyond the lens of her trauma.

And she loved it.

He clutched his chest and clenched his eyes, his body tilting back.

"What a dumb fucking cuck--that pussy can't be--fuck yeah--my son. If I was him," Reinhard grunted, taking Navi's full weight in his hands again, "I would never stop fucking your pretty holes."

As Reinhard turned around with his cock still buried in his son's girlfriend's pussy, Noah noticed Reinhard's hands--his right hand specifically--they held her ass spread open. His right middle finger firmly hooked inside her anus pinned her to himself as he placed her onto Noah's bed.

Noah took a step back--slowly--until the gap no longer showed him what lay behind the door.

Then he took another--and another--and turned, nearly falling. Tears stung his eyes.

But his cock was hard--painfully hard.

And he hated himself for it.

*

"Noah. Remember--you need to be here, right now." She clicked her pen twice.

Wagner was brought out of his thoughts by Dr. Samson. Concern had furrowed her brows as she took notes.

All of the sudden, he felt extremely self-conscious and he brought his knees closer together--he was still slightly aroused by his recollection of that day.

Repressed memories had been infiltrating Wagner's mind--memories he didn't want to remember. Secrets he had kept from everyone but those who needed to know at the department.

"You've been working for the department for how long?"

"Eight years, coming up on nine."

"So, why is it that you took this long to see me?"

"I don't think I had anything to come see you for--before today..."

"Noah. Let's not start out this way."

"I don't understand, Dr. Sa--"

"C'mon now, Noah. We both know what happened--what was it--seven or eight years ago?"

*

Brooke stared at him, but he couldn't look at her. He could only look at his bruised knuckles.

"Why did you ask me to come if you weren't going to say anything?" She had been crying--a lot--Noah felt like shit.

It wasn't the first time he had done something to make her cry--but never like this. It was the first time she had seen him be violent.

"Brooke! I'm sorry! Okay? I don't know what else to say... I just needed to see you."

"I don't want to hear that, Noah. You already said sorry and I don't forgive you. I had told you before, he's my coworker! You can't just beat up every guy in my life because of your fucking trauma!" She ran her hands through her dirty blonde hair, "his wife is worried right now. Did you know that? He's married, happily! For fifteen fucking years. They just renewed their vows for fucks sake, Noah!"

She had been the only person Noah had ever told about what Reinhard had done to him in college and he felt sick now that she called him out on it.

But he was at least now beginning to see what he had done.

"I--Brooke, listen... I thought he was coming on to you, I thought you were--"

Brooke stood up at that moment--she didn't want to hear another word out of his mouth.

"Cheating? Of course you did--well I wasn't. I get it, you have shit you went through--but I'm not a part of that. I'm tired of always rehashing and rehashing the same fucking issue with you." Tears welled up in her eyes, "we're done. For real this time--don't call me and don't come to my house." She walked out the door and towards her car, "my brothers will get my stuff."

Noah's chest felt like it was under a thousand pounds and he was struggling to breathe. He ran after her, grabbing her wrist in a panic before she could reach her car.

"Brooke! Listen--"

"Noah! What the fuck?! Let go of me! That hurts!"

Noah recoiled--letting go of her wrist instantly. He imagined his badge being stripped from his chest and his uniform being ripped from his arms.

But worse than that--he imagined his mother in front of him--only... he was now his father.

He took a step back--pushed back by that realization.

Not for the first time, he had lost control of his reactions. This was the second relationship his aggressively physical impulses had cost him--and he couldn't afford to be in any more trouble with the department than he already was now.

"I'm--fuck--Brooke! I'm sorry!"

But the car door slammed shut and she drove away.

That had been the last time Noah had seen or heard from Brooke.

*

And that wasn't what Wagner had gone to see Dr. Samson for--he didn't want to talk about the past--just how to fix his present. And now this was going about the way he thought it would. He shouldn't have come.

His legs tensed to stand-up and leave.

"I didn't come here for--"

Dr. Samson lowered her glasses and fixed Wagner to the couch with a stare.

"Noah. Your email said--and I quote," she flipped her notebook back a couple of pages, "'I am having issues in my marriage that my wife is unaware of. I don't know who else to talk to.' If you didn't want to talk, then why did you send that message, Noah?"

Wagner had shoved himself into a corner.

"We have to start at the scene of the crime in order to figure it out, right? So, why not start with Brooke--that was the woman whose name was on the report--what do you think about that?"

Telling anyone what he was worried about his father doing--again, despite his current condition--was absolutely off the table. What had happened with Kacey--his ex immediately after Navi--was something he had never even mentioned to his closest friends. He wasn't about to talk about that now. Talking about Brooke was really his only option at the moment--he had fucked himself.

He was not looking forward to this. His temples flexed as he clenched his teeth.

Sigh, "fine." Noah slumped into the couch and crossed his arms.

"Okay. Let's start then. Tell me about Brooke."

"What exactly? Like, about what I did? Or what she did--sorry--what I thought she did?" Noah's left leg started to shake and his right palm started to ache--he was already annoyed.

"We're not there, yet. Tell me about her. How did you meet? What did she look like?" Dr. Samson started to take notes.

He didn't like that.

"Well, I had just gotten out of a relationship and went partying with some friends from college."

"Wait--there was someone right before Brooke?" The sound of pen against paper filled the room, "what was her name?"

"Uh--Kacey." Noah seemed to shrink further into the couch.

"Hmm. That seemed to trigger something in you. Let's table Kacey for now, we'll get to her later. Tell me more about meeting Brooke."

"Okay. Yeah, where was I--college friends, out--oh yeah. She was sitting at the bar--she was with her friends. Uh--" Noah cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable, "she was--uh, is--blonde. Tall, only a couple of inches shorter than me."

"Is she pretty?"

Noah gulped reflexively.

Is she pretty? That was an understatement.

"Yes."

"Prettier than your wife?"

Noah tensed up for a second, then his body relaxed. Ailin wasn't here, he could be candid.

"I mean--she--I guess--well... you can't really compare the two. For example, Joe Montana and Terry Bradshaw. They both won four Super Bowls in two very distinct eras. Terry was great back then and Joe was great in the 90's."

Dr. Samson scribbled more notes, then looked up--her pen slowing down just a little.

"Yeah, sure. They are both great. But Tom Brady exists, Noah. Who's your Tom Brady?"

Fuck, he had thought that would be a good answer.

To be fair to Dr. Samson, he had been trying to avoid answering the question. He knew what he thought, but that didn't mean he wanted anyone else to know.

"Look. They are both beautiful. They are both ten out of ten. If you want me to quantify and qualify them, they are both two of the most beautiful women I have ever seen--"

"You're not answering the question, Noah. I'm not going to judge you based on your answer. The fact that you don't want to answer it is what has now convinced me the answer matters."

Well shit.

"So, who is prettier, Noah?"

Noah's leg was shaking furiously now and the ache in his palm expanded to his whole hand. Guilt grew inside his chest like a physical mass and his stomach tensed. The tendrils were dormant, but their added pressure was making him squirm internally.

Instinctively, his right hand covered his wedding ring as if Ailin would be able to hear him through it.

"Brooke." More notes.

"Why do you say that?" Dr. Samson's pen suddenly stopped.

"Don't misunderstand me, Ailin is gorgeous. Her face is angelic, her body is--God--it's magnificent..."

"But?"

"Brooke is--was--is?--A supermodel. Her body isn't like Ailin's, she was slender. The way we matched up the few times we danced--because of our height... and in bed--she was always happy with my way of... loving."

Noah felt himself rattling like a door being pounded on. His leg shaking intensified.

"Is Ailin not happy with your way of having sex?"

But like a key, that question unlocked him--forcing him open.

"I thought she was... for the longest time--we've had this--perfect, really fucking perfect relationship. And now, recently--well. I guess it didn't happen like that--we weren't planning on having a family just yet. And well--fuck. Am I saying too much?"

"No, Noah. You are saying what you need to say. Keep going." She put her pen and notebook on the table next to her chair and folded her arms.

Noah looked at her warily, then he uncrossed his own arms and sat up straight.

Eyes resting on his hands, he took a deep--deep breath.

"I'm not ready for kids. I want to be, for her--but I'm not. And I'm trying to be. Her family--her fucking family, I swear to God. Her mom is always pressuring her--and she knows how to push her buttons. Her brother doesn't help--well, he doesn't help Ailin--they kind of corner her--dogpile her. But she feels obligated. I don't even know if having a baby is something she wants or something she feels she needs to do."

Noah looked up at Dr. Samson, he felt so lost in that moment--so vulnerable--just looking for an answer.

"Well, I don't think either of us is ready to speculate what Ailin wants or doesn't want. But with that context, I think I understand a little more about what YOU want and don't want. And that's what we need to address before we start trying to address how to give those around us what they want."

Noah nodded--but his fists clenched.

"Is there more you want to say about that? About Ailin and home life right now before we get further into your relationship with Brooke?"

Images of Reinhard flashed in Noah's mind. Then Navi's smiling, pretty face continuously being twisted by her face of pure, debauched bliss. Kacey's terrified face as she hurriedly got dressed and left him alone in her dorm. Brooke's face as he beat her coworker while in uniform--then again as she drove away.

And Ailin.

So unaware--through no fault of her own--of any of it.

"No. Let's talk about Brooke."

Dr. Samson's brows furrowed, but she nodded--retrieving her notebook and pen.

"Okay. So, you've told me that she is very pretty--supermodel pretty--and you talked about your compatibility. Now tell me about her. What was it about her that drew you to her?"

Noah's right hand reflexively came up to his face and he wiped it--flustered--massaging his jaw.

"I mean--obviously, her beauty is the first thing I noticed. But... it was the way she carried herself. She was all class. If she walked into a room, men looked at her in reverence and women wanted to be her friend."

"And Ailin?"

Noah felt the wind knocked out of him, but now that the door had been opened, his truths came out.

"She's beautiful, too. And the way she carries herself is amazing. She's the life of the party, the most confident person in the room."

"What do you think others think about her? Tell me in the same frame that you did about Brooke."

"Well," the image of Ailin dancing with that stranger flashed in his mind and his jealous arousal rose, but the tone of his voice was angry, "men want to fuck her and women are jealous of her."

"And that makes you jealous?" Dr. Samson looked up from her notes again when Noah didn't immediately answer, "you need to be here, right now. Don't get lost in your thoughts. Stay with me." Her pen clicked again--twice.

Noah shook his head and rubbed his eyes--focusing.

"Sorry. Yeah. Of course that makes me jealous." He half-truthed--jealousy was only half the equation.

"Do you blame her for that?"

He blinked.

As if Dr. Samson could see the gears behind his eyes shifting to find an excuse, she moved on.

"We'll come back to that. Tell me more about you and Brooke, were you jealous with her, the same way you are now with Ailin?"

His mouth went dry and his stomach started to churn.

"It--it was different--with Brooke. I--uh. With Ailin, I guess I get jealous up here." He pointed at his head, "but--she hasn't--almost never--done anything to actually make me jealous. With Brooke, I... I was too young. Uh--some stuff from when I was younger, it--uh. Fuck--sorry... I was just always on edge. I was always jealous. I guess I was always just looking for the evidence I expected to be there."

"Explain that to me. Why did you expect there to be evidence? Evidence that stemmed from what, exactly?" Dr. Samson's pen was a blur as she took notes.

Noah stared at the pen, his stomach slowly rolling over as he took a sip from his water bottle.

"Well, she--she had a coworker--"

"The victim, James, right?"

Noah felt like Dr. Samson had slapped him, but he continued.

"Y--yeah... victim... James. He--well, not a coworker... I guess--he was her supervisor--they worked in sales or marketing--I honestly don't remember. She started to come home late, missed calls, unanswered texts. I--I'm not proud of this, but--"

"Noah, let me stop you for a moment. Before we go any further, I have to be honest with you because there's been a couple of times you hesitate to tell me because you think I will think a certain way about you. I am not here to judge what you did, I am not some moral arbiter that is going to determine whether what you did was wrong or not." She took off her glasses to wipe them clean, "if you are looking for someone to validate you, I am the wrong person for that. Conversely, if you are looking for someone to punish you, I am the wrong person for that, too. I am just here to help you take what you have done, your traumas, and your experiences, and let you speak them aloud. When I ask you questions, it is to help you reflect. That is what you are doing now, reflecting. Giving voice to the things you have refused to give voice to. Understand?"

Noah, despite what everyone around him seemed to think, understood.

She was implying that he would be voicing things he didn't want to, coming to 'realizations' he already knew but denied himself.

He nodded his head.

"I understand."

"Good, continue."

Noah exhaled.

"I went to Brooke's job. I started to sit there, in my friends' cars--different cars so she wouldn't notice--just waiting for her. Or--I guess--to see if she was even there... or who she was there with. She was there. She always was. But every time, he was there, too."

"Who was there? James?"

Noah nodded.

"Yeah--James was there. I started to--I started to think she was cheating. It just got worse from there. I started to disconnect from her--or I guess, I started to push her away while I was trying desperately to stay connected."

"I bet that was confusing for her. What did you hope to achieve with that?"

Noah thought about it for a moment.

"I think... I guess--I wanted her to reassure me and fight for me. I wanted her to... tell me that I had nothing to worry about. To tell me she loved me..."

"Did she not tell you those things?"

Noah was getting frustrated--but with himself.

"She did." He sighed hard and sank back into the chair--looking up at the ceiling.

"And that didn't make a difference?"

"I guess not."

"Why do you think that is?" She stared at Noah, her pen ready to write a flurry.

Noah's vision traced back down until he stared at his hands--his knuckles. He imagined them the same way they had been that night he confronted Brooke and James, how in that moment, he felt powerful. He had reclaimed his manhood--for just a moment.

He looked up at Dr. Samson, an irritated realization on his face.

"I wanted to be right. I wanted to have an excuse."

"An excuse to what?"

"An excuse to leave... she was always too pretty, too good for me. I feel like I was playing above my league, and it would just be a matter of time before she left me for someone else."

"Why did you think that was going to happen? Don't take this the wrong way, Noah, but you are a handsome man. You have physical qualities society has deemed to be standards of beauty for men, why do you think she was going to leave you for someone else?"

Noah raised his eyebrows at that.

Many people would act surprised, or feign modesty when being told how beautiful they are, but Noah was neither surprised nor feigning modesty.

It was instead because he was being hit by yet more and more realizations.

"I wanted her to cheat. Then I would have an excuse to reclaim my--something I had lost... a few years before then."

"And what was that?"

Noah's eyes moved up--above Dr. Samson--staring at the wall behind her.

In the corner of the room, Reinhard held Navi against the wall--pounding her into it as he raised her up in his powerful arms. But the old bastard neither had the physicality nor the energy to be that man anymore. It was a version of Reinhard that no longer existed--except only in Noah's mind.

He sighed.

"I don't want to talk about that." He grabbed the door knob of the door they had opened during the session and closed it.

The image of Reinhard and Navi stayed behind it, and Noah looked down at his knuckles.

Dr. Samson took that moment to look behind herself.

"There's nothing behind me but walls and bookshelves, Noah."

"I know." But he buried his face in his hands.

"Then what did you see?"

"I--" Noah grabbed the key and locked the door--leaving the key on the table of Dr. Samson's office, "I don't want to talk about that right now."

Dr. Samson stared at Noah for a moment, then she looked at the clock. It had been barely half an hour. Back to Noah, she nodded.

She would allow him to end their session there.

For today.

"Okay. I see our leads have run dry--for now. We will end today's session here. I want to see you again within a week or a few days if possible, Noah."

"Ma'am?" Noah thought they had made sufficient progress, he didn't need therapy anymore.

He didn't want therapy anymore.

"Noah, you didn't think this was one and done, right? Things like this--for someone who has never talked about their experiences with a professional--yes, I know you didn't--we have a lot to go through. I am going to get you in here, no matter what. You have a lot of things you need to take care of--for someone in leadership, we can't have these unknowns. Noah, these repressed thoughts and emotions? They're blind spots, triggers--think--really think about how that could manifest. Especially while on the job where you are going to run into similar situations to your own. It's already affecting your marriage, and it will soon be affecting your job--your hard earned career. We can't have that, Noah. If you drop out now, I won't have any other choice but to rescind my recommendation for promotion."

Noah's face twisted with fear and indignation--and a flash of his old anger.

"Ma'am--"

"Doctor, Noah. Dr. Samson."

Noah scoffed, but he relented.

"Dr. Samson, that's unfair."

"Noah, let me tell you what's unfair. You have a history and trauma that you have never talked about with anyone, not even your wife. And now it's affecting your marriage. You know this is happening, but your wife has no clue. Isn't that unfair?"

"I guess--"

"Are you going to tell her?"

"I didn't think--"

"You didn't think you would have to tell her if you took care of the problem on your own. Always the same with all of you in law enforcement. Let me be blunt with you, Noah. Can I be?"

"I don't see how that would be any different than you have been--" Noah muttered.

"Thanks. You haven't solved anything. The problem is still there. Let me paint a clear picture for you. You have a festering, rotting wound that you chose to ignore for years--decades for all I know. All you have done today is acknowledge the wound. You haven't even uncovered it, to see how ugly and rotten it has gotten. We need to heal the wound, Noah. Do you understand?"

In truth, he hadn't ever thought about it like that, like a festering wound he had ignored.

Noah tried to picture the wound. Instead, the same rotation of faces carouselled in his mind. Reinhard, Navi, Kacey, Brooke, James--which was new--and Ailin. Ailin's beautiful face was the one that would take the longest to rotate out.

"Yeah... I guess I get it, Dr. Samson. I understand."

"Good, see you in a few days."

*

Ailin

Reaching out to the other side of the bed, Ailin was disappointed to find it empty already. This was the second day Noah had left earlier than he usually did and she was starting to get worried. She knew having Reinhard at home made him uncomfortable--but him finding reasons not to be in the house because of his father was directly affecting her now, too.

She looked at her phone, just in case he had texted her--but he hadn't.

Sighing, she got up. Today was the first day she would be covering Jennifer's shift--one of the other LPN's had quit unexpectedly and Mr. Victor had been left scrambling to find replacements.

It had ultimately fallen onto Ailin and Natasha. Ailin because she had no kids and Natasha because she was an empty nester.

Just another reason for Ailin to be upset that they didn't have kids, yet.

After a quick shower, she got dressed. Her scrubs were feeling a little tight today at her hips. Annoyed, she grabbed her things and went to the kitchen to drink Noah's processed drinks.

As she turned off the ceiling fan and opened the door fully, the smell of bacon, eggs, and--sniff--french toast? Hit her nose.

Maybe Noah was trying to cook for her? That wistful hope and the scent of food drew her to the kitchen. She put her sweater on and zipped it up, coming to a stop at the end of the hall with a confused smile on her face.

She felt a tinge of disappointment not seeing Noah in the kitchen cooking for her. But the promise of a delicious breakfast to fill that emotional hole was more than enough for now. Besides if Noah was the one actually cooking, the food would have probably been undercooked or burned anyway.

To her surprise, it was Reinhard making breakfast.

"It smells amazing, sir." She tried not to surprise him as his back was to her.

Reinhard turned to face her--he smiled when his eyes focused on hers.

"Oh, I didn't know when you'd wake, but I wanted you to have something to eat." He paused as disappointment briefly flashed across his face. "I must have missed Noah. He was already gone by the time I got up." Then his smile returned. "But that's okay. He never much liked my homemade food. Have a seat, darling."

Ailin frowned at that, Noah loved her cooking. And if Reinhard was even half as good, why wouldn't Noah love his food? Did he hate his father that much?

"Oh no, sir. I can serve myself," she insisted.

"Nonsense! When I cook, no beautiful woman will ever serve herself." He smiled at her while his sharp blue eyes held her.

Ailin put her hands up in surrender, she couldn't help but blush at his compliments. Sitting at the table, she began to feel like she could get used to this--at least for the next few months.

"I really appreciate this--I am sorry I haven't been able to cook for you yet like I promised."

"I'm still holding you to that." Reinhard grabbed a plate and started to fill it with the delicious-smelling food. "But I understand you're busy. All in due time, darling." He winked at her, then continued, "It can't be easy maintaining the house, going to school, and working so much... I hope Noah shows you how grateful he is."

He placed the plate in front of her--silverware neatly pre-prepared on a napkin.

"Yeah..." The lament under her words was palpable.

Glancing briefly at her notification-less screen, she began to eat.

*

Reinhard

Reinhard paused at that, but chose not to respond. Instead he squeezed her shoulder. He preferred her bare shoulders--the beauty marks that painted her canvas were perfectly placed. But he settled for this.

All in due time.

Grabbing another plate and serving himself, he sat across from her.

"Mmm! This is delicious! Did you fry the egg with butter? What seasoning is this? Wow!"

Reinhard smirked before he caught himself, and allowed a genuine smile.

"I'll show you next time, darling." He loved the way her eyes rolled with each bite.

"I look forward to it! Sir, this is so good."

When they finished eating, she stood to take their plates to the sink, but he held up his hand.

"You go to work, darling. I'll handle the dishes."

Ailin walked to him and hugged him. He could feel her bust on his shoulder.

"Thank you so much, sir! I really do appreciate that!"

Reinhard just held his smile and watched her leave.

*

Ailin

Working at a job where people were constantly dying--during a twelve hour shift no less--had a way of making people exhausted.

Exhausted and hungry.

Ailin walked through the house and noticed how eerily quiet it was.

At the end of the hallway, both bedroom doors were closed. Trying not to wake anyone up, she opened their door and peered inside. She could hear Noah's soft snores before she saw his large body sprawled out on his side of the bed.

Looking at his barrel chest--the manly, coarse hair--it made her shiver. Despite herself, she could feel the heat humming low in her tummy. She--as quietly as she could with as much urgency as she felt--tossed her scrubs into her scrub hamper and shimmied out of her underwear. She let her hair down and shook it around her head, helping it cascade down to her lower back.

Food wasn't the only thing she was hungry for at the moment.

She climbed up on the bed and whispered into Noah's ear.

"Amorrr, despierta papi chulo. ¿Beibi?" But he wouldn't wake, his snores persisted.

Running her hands through his chest, she gently shook him.

"Hu--hmm--be--tir--" He rolled over.

Ailin pouted. Realizing no one would see it, she sighed and crawled off the bed. Well, she was still hungry-hungry.

She put on some old shorts--that were slightly too big and hung off her hips--and a sports bra. Tiptoeing out of the room, she tried to be as quiet as she could. She wasn't sure if Reinhard was asleep, too, but the last thing she wanted was to be caught dressed like this by her husband's father.

In the kitchen, she opened the fridge.

"Que de comer... que de comer... Oh! What's this?" She reached in for the containers in the back of the fridge.

Between the two containers, one had a piece of paper on it that read 'For the wonderful wife of the house.' She smiled as she opened it, there was chicken alfredo pasta inside--and it looked super creamy. Smelling it, her mouth watered.

Maybe Noah had ordered her some pasta from somewhere?

She threw it into the microwave after adding a splash of milk to make sure the alfredo didn't dry out while she nuked it.

Beep--beep--beep.

"So loud!" she whispered--worried it would wake someone up.

Beep--beep.

The hum of the microwave started.

"Que quiero tomar... milk? Na. Lemonade... maybe. Agua--I should pero... na. Hmm... a coca? Too late, quiero dormir... Ach! Agua then--fine." She grabbed a glass and poured herself tap water.

Imagining the timer going off and waking everyone up, she watched it like a hawk as she grabbed a fork from the drawer. At five seconds, she hit the off button and pulled her plate out.

It smelled absolutely delicious.

"Where did he buy it? Olive Garden no creo..." she whispered to herself.

It must have been some fancy place.

Noah hadn't even bothered to reply to her texts all day, so this was a good apology start.

She stuck her fork into creamy pasta, the sauce and the tiniest bit of oil being pushed out the ends of the penne. As she lifted it, the trail of alfredo exposed the gooey cheese hidden within until the strand broke and fell.

The moment she bit into the penne, her mouth had to take a moment before continuing.

"Wow." Was all she could say for the moment.

The chicken was juicy despite the microwave, slightly sweet. The whole wheat penne had perfectly trapped all the sauce while adding a nutty hint. The cheese was a blend of provolone and mozzarella--the mozz helping to keep it milky and gooey while the provolone added a sharp, salty taste that had to be bitten into to release.

But the sauce. The sauce had to have been made from scratch. She could smell and taste the zesty layer of lemon before the creamy, buttery, garlic parmesan took over her senses. It was the right amount of tangy and sweet. It washed every crevice of her mouth, replacing her saliva with itself.

Each bite curled her toes--the taste buds in the corner of her mouth tingled almost painfully. There was something so intoxicating about the taste--so deeply satisfying--the way she was swallowing it down almost felt obscene.

"This. Is. Amazing."

"You like the pasta, then?"

Reinhard's voice surprised her. Suddenly self conscious, she didn't turn her body towards his voice, instead looking over her shoulder.

"Wait! Did you make this?" Again, she felt disappointed that it was someone else--not Noah--that was making an effort to take care of her.

Not just someone else, but Reinhard.

So much for what she thought was Noah's apology.

"I am glad you like it." His gaze shifted down for only a moment before their eyes met.

His eyes never lingered on her body like a creep, it was more like she was being scrutinized. Was she good enough? Was she dressed too inappropriately? She was never sure of what the older Wagner was thinking. She just knew that being under his gaze made her feel nervous.

She had already felt her shorts had fallen a little below her waist, but she was sure they weren't showing anything scandalous. Still, she shimmied uncomfortably on the seat, hoping the movement would help the shorts rise even a little.

"You make the sauce yourself?" She took another bite and focused on the food instead of the strong urge she felt to rub her hands.

"Old family recipe. I wanted to pass some recipes down to Noah and Amber--Amber already knows most of them, but..." He stepped closer, standing next to Ailin and put his hand on her shoulder.

Would it be rude to turn slightly away from him? Just enough to maintain her remaining modesty? She found herself between that and not wanting to seem like she wasn't interested in what Reinhard had to say--she really was.

He continued.

"It would be wasted on him, I feel. I was thinking I could teach it to you instead."

For a moment, she was twelve and looking up at her mom again--Maria's proud face as her daughter recreated her menudo recipe to perfection.

Tears began to form in her eyes and she could feel a lump in her throat.

"I would love that." She stood up and hugged him. "I really appreciate that you have been so nice. We haven't really had time to do anything, or even make you feel welcome--I'm sorry."

Wiping her tears with her hands, she tried to maintain her smile but her frown kept pulling the corners of her mouth down.

"Aw darling, don't worry about that. You have been more than welcoming so far. I know you're working hard. You deserve to be able to relax and unwind. But all in due time. Why don't you finish your dinner--I know you have to get up early again tomorrow--that's why I prepared some more pasta for you to take to work tomorrow."

Ailin realized that's what that other container must have held.

"Thank you so much!" She gave him another hug before she sat down to finish her food.

*

The next morning, Noah was already gone again. Ailin tried not to let the rush of emotions out as she sat up in bed--alone again. At this point she couldn't help but think he was actually avoiding her.

She reached for her phone again and her heart lifted for a moment as she saw Noah's text.

Noah: Hey baby doll... sorry I haven't really been around. They are starting to scaffold the responsibilities for me at work before Davis leaves--don't forget about the party next weekend by the way. I just have a lot on my mind and I need to take care of that. I should be able to make it home before you get there tonight, want to go out to eat together, just the two of us? Super late dinner like we used to? I love you too much.

Ailin frowned.

She had thought as much about work--growing responsibilities, but what could be on his mind?

Why did he always try to do everything on his own? Why didn't he talk to her? Why didn't he trust her? She could help him take care of whatever it was. Or at least she could help him by being there for him.

Groaning in frustration, she tossed her phone onto the bed and got up to get dressed.

Today she would have to go to clinicals, then a double shift again.

At least she had delicious pasta to take for lunch--and possibly dinner if she could control herself.

But control herself when the pasta was that amazing? No way.

*

It was 8:50 PM. Ailin had gotten a text about an hour before that she hadn't been able to check, yet. But as she got into her car, she looked at her phone finally.

Noah: Rainceck on that dinner tonight. Helping ma move stuff Joe hurt hisback. Dont wait up, love yoi

"¿Que chingados? Uugh he can't be serious." Ailin tossed her phone onto the passenger seat, hitting her purse with a thud. "Ni siquiera le importo corregirse." The typos made it seem like he didn't really care.

Like, what could she even say to that?

Nothing, she decided. She would say nothing.

Frustrated, she leaned her head against the headrest, closing her eyes for a few seconds.

Tap tap.

Ailin jumped at the knocks on her window.

With wide eyes she looked up--only to see Mr. Victor's smiling face. She put the key into the ignition to lower the window.

"Howdy sweetheart!" His cheery voice made her flinch. "Glad I caught ya. I just wanted to say that you have been an absolute lifesaver the last few days."

"Oh Mr. Victor, you scared me!" Ailin put her hand to her chest, trying to control her breathing.

"Apologies, sweetheart. I just wanted to let you know before you left. I got you a gift card to Rudy's--I don't know if you like barbecue but you live in the barbecue capital... anyway. I just wanted to show you I appreciate you."

"Oh Mr. Victor, that's not necessary. It's my jo--"

"Nonsense. You didn't have to take the shifts. It shows me you are committed and I can rely on you. So I want to show you I appreciate you. What kind of coffee do you like, sweetheart." He leaned in, his tall frame practically halving as his arms rested against the roof of Ailin's Prius.

"Oh Mr. Victor, that's really okay, I--"

"Now Ailin, I won't take no for an answer. I'm going to brin' you coffee, might as well be coffee you like, sweetheart."

Ailin started to rub her hands together, she didn't like feeling like she owed something to someone, and this felt like she was getting more than what she had worked for.

"Really, it's okay. I love working here and--"

"Don't make me fire you sweetie." Mr. Victor tried to scrunch up his eyebrows as if he was serious, but his jolly face and smile belied it.

"Um--vanilla latte?" Ailin relented.

"There we go. As you wish, sweetheart." He reached in and squeezed her shoulder. "Was that so hard?"

Yes.

"Thank you, Mr. Victor." Her stomach felt queasy as he continued to almost massage her shoulder now. "I have to get going, I have to get up really early tomorrow for school."

"Alright, sweetheart. Let me know if there's anything you need." His face grew serious. "Absolutely anything, okay?"

"Yes, Mr. Victor. I will. Thank you for the gift card and for the coffee."

"My pleasure. Anything for you. See you in a couple of days."

Numbly, Ailin turned the ignition over, her car seamlessly starting up--her phone immediately connecting through bluetooth.

Mr. Victor walked back to the facility, Ailin could have sworn he adjusted himself as he turned away and towards the door, but she didn't want to believe that. Mr. Victor had always been so respectful and kind to her.

But that gross feeling on her shoulder told her differently. She couldn't shake the feeling she had just gotten from the older manager.

Thank God she was going to be able to go straight home tomorrow after school.

*

Ailin pulled into the empty driveway--she had already expected it. Noah had obviously sent her that text to let her know, but she was still disappointed. Deep down she had wanted him to just be there--to just show up because she needed him.

But he wasn't. That didn't surprise her.

His absence was becoming more normal recently.

Exhausted, she opened the door. The distinct smell of pizza wafted into her nostrils, greeting her. She could smell the Hawaiian ingredients before she opened the fridge.

A note--written on Noah's duty notepad paper--was taped onto the box.

'Sorry, baby. Got your favorite pizza. Hope this helps.' She smiled at that. He couldn't cook, but he still did something nice for her.

Placing the box on the table, she grabbed a plate and a cup. She filled the cup with about a shot of wine, then sighed as she sat down.

Pizza had always been a comfort food for her. When her father had brought her and her siblings across the border and they didn't have food at home for her to cook, he would take advantage of the old Five Five Five deal. They would eat pizza for days.

She opened the box and frowned. Instead of ham and pineapple, the pizza had pepperoni, sausage, and pineapple.

Ham and pineapple--that's what she liked.

Not pepperoni. Not sausage. She hated those toppings.

They had been through this so many times already. He couldn't buy something for himself and try to pass it off as if it was for her.

The emotions were almost too strong for her as she stifled a sob.

Ailin loved Noah. He was a protector, a provider. She knew that as long as he was around, he would never let anything bad happen to her. But sometimes he was so inconsiderate when it came to the mundane, small, everyday things--or what usually felt small until he did something careless--like not knowing her favorite pizza after so many years.

This and his increasing absence made her feel like she wasn't a priority.

She closed the box and put it back into the fridge, turning the note over. Grabbing the first pen she could find, she wrote him a note back-- 'I don't like this kind of pizza, you can have it.'

Petty, sure. But she was hurt right now.

Breathing in slowly, then out, she grabbed the wine and filled up her cup--taking it to their bedroom.

A third of the cup's contents were gone by the time she walked into the room, she placed it onto her nightstand while she undressed. She easily removed her scrub top and tossed it into the scrub hamper--it was already half filled. That meant she only had two more sets for the week.

A frustrated groan escaped her lips again followed by a satisfied sigh as she unhooked her bra. The straps had especially dug into her skin that day--she could see the color slowly returning to where they had been through the dresser mirror. She grabbed a sanitary wipe and lifted her breasts to wipe the sweat away--she would shower later.

Right now, she just needed to rest.

Finally she peeled her scrub bottoms off. Annoyed that she couldn't understand how they would be so tight on her while the rest of her clothes felt the same they always had. She had to shimmy out of them, her butt and breasts trembling with every movement.

"Oh that feels better." She kicked them into the hamper--only her thong remained.

To remove her thong or not to remove her thong? That was the most important question on her mind at the moment as she took another gulp of wine.

Deciding the less clothes she had to wear, the better, she took them off.

Finally getting into her comfortable clothes, she called her mom. She hadn't been speaking to her every day like normal ever since they had had the conversation about grandchildren.

Ailin didn't want to keep rehashing that conversation, so she had avoided the calls at first. but the last few days? She had just been way too busy.

"Milagro que me estás llamando, Ali."

Instantly called out for not calling--Ailin rolled her eyes.

"Mom. No empiece. He estado trabajando doble turno y yendo a la escuela." Why couldn't her mom just understand she was busy?

"¿Y no puedes hacer tiempo para tu madre? ¿La persona que te trajo al mundo?"

Always with the melodrama--it wasn't about making time, it was about not having the mental energy to do it no matter who that time was for.

"Ay mom. Ya--por favor. Le estoy hablando porque tengo una pregunta--no para que me regañe." Precisely why she had avoided calling her mother the last few days--being scolded.

"Si. Ya sabia, nomas me hablan cuando necesitan algo."

Ailin was debating whether or not she should hang up. Instead she just cut to the chase.

"Mom!" Ailin interrupted the beginning of her mother's rant. "Le quería preguntar, ¿cómo usted y mi papá han podido seguir juntos si no se han visto en diez años? ¿Cómo lo hacen?"

Ailin had been anticipating anger or indignation from her--asking how her parents were still together despite a decade of separation could be considered rude--but instead there was only silence. For a moment, she thought her mother had hung up until Maria finally spoke.

"¿Por qué me estás preguntando eso Ailin? No me faltes el respeto."

There it was.

Ailin ignored the insinuation that she was being disrespectful. She needed to know--she kept wondering if her and Noah were headed in that direction. Not that extreme, but in the same ballpark.

"Es que... nomas. Estaba pensando..." Ailin searched her mind for a plausible reason why she was asking how her parents still kept their relationship despite the obvious barrier and distance between them without actually spilling the truth.

Finally, she landed on a one. "Pensando en lo que está ocurriendo acá... en qué hacer si nos separan a mi y a Noah."

"Pero Ali, Noah tiene papeles. Él puede ir y venir cuando quiera."

Her mom always had an answer for everything except what Ailin asked her for.

"MOM. Por favor. Sea realista. Una vez a la semana no es suficiente como para mantener un matrimonio."

Seeing someone once a week wasn't enough for a healthy marriage, let alone a decade without so much as a second together.

Silence again. Then Maria sighed. It was a long, pained sigh that made Ailin feel guilty for asking.

Her mom's voice was quiet, there was a deep shame resonating underneath.

"No quiero que nos mires diferente, Ali. Pero si realmente tienes esa preocupación... tu papá y yo... llegamos a un acuerdo hace algunos años. Los dos tenemos necesidades que el otro no puede cumplir... la única forma es--" Maria couldn't finish.

Her side of the call went completely silent again.

Ailin swallowed--she could fill in that blank.

The implication of what her mom was insinuating was almost too much for her. Ailin wasn't sure what to even think, let alone respond.

To think that her parents had an arrangement to sleep with other people... it was too much. It went against everything they had taught her. Did their church--their faith--not matter? Did their marriage mean nothing?

Ailin started to get upset--angry?

"¿Cómo pueden hacer eso? ¿Y Dios? ¿Dios que?"

"¡AILIN!" Ailin's heart dropped like when she was in trouble. "¡Tú no sabes lo que es estar aparte de la persona que más amas en todo el mundo!" Ailin could hear the bile rising in her mother's voice. "¡Tú no sabes lo que es querer estar con esa persona--y no poder hacerlo!" Her mother convulsively sobbed on the other side of the line. "¡Tú no sabes lo que es tener--esas necesidades--y no poder hacer nada sobre ellas... por años!" It was like Maria burst apart. "¡AÑOS, Ailin!"

Ailin flinched, her open mouth lost its retort and snapped shut. Her mother was right.

Ailin didn't know. She didn't know what it was like being apart from Noah for more than a couple of days--she was already feeling lonely. She couldn't imagine how lonely her parents had been those first few years. She didn't know what it was like to be forced to abstain like that from something she felt was a necessity.

But here she was, judging her parents for it.

Shame smacked her on the cheek as if her mother stood in front of her now and slapped her. Ailin judged them, but she didn't know. She couldn't possibly understand that desperation--or rather--she could, but just barely. The beginnings of it, really.

"Mom--lo siento. Me tengo que ir." Ailin couldn't bear the shame--the guilt--she felt, but she also couldn't talk to her mother right now.

"Ailin! No me cuelg--" Her mother couldn't get her plea out fast enough.

Either way, it was in vain--Ailin hung up on her.

She chugged the rest of the cup of wine and slipped beneath the covers, trying not to think about everything she thought she had known now crumbling.

When the first call from her mother came a few seconds later, she rejected it and turned off her phone.

She had almost fallen asleep when she heard noises in the kitchen.

"Noah?" She called out, but there was no response.

It was 9:35 PM and Noah seemingly still wasn't home. Reinhard must have been in the kitchen.

At least someone could keep her company.

Getting up and not bothering to put something over her small shorts and her sports bra--the older Wagner had already seen her that way and was seemingly comfortable with it--she walked down the hall and towards the kitchen.

"Hello, sir." She called from the end of the hall.

"Darling! Hello, come in. I thought I heard someone come in earlier--did you bring that atrocious excuse for a pizza?" He asked, his tone incredulous.

Ailin winced--the hurt from Noah's inconsideration still fresh--but Reinhard was right. It was atrocious.

"No, sir. That was Noah."

"Of course it was." He shook his head. "You wouldn't do something so--sacrilegious--to pizza. Ham or bacon goes with pineapple. Not pepperoni and--God! Is that Italian sausage? You couldn't possibly be responsible for this." He shoved the box back into the fridge.

Ailin let herself smirk at that--she knew she was right, of course.

"I have no idea why he would get that. I like Hawaiian pizza."

"I don't think that boy would know what Hawaiian pizza was if it started singing Somewhere Over the Rainbow in his face."

Ailin covered her mouth, stifling a laugh.

"C'mon, be a dear and give me a hand making some real food."

Ailin smiled--she would be lying to herself if she didn't admit she was excited for this. The breakfast and the pasta hadn't been special dishes--but the execution, the quality--they had been the best of those specific dishes she had ever eaten.

And that wasn't an exaggeration.

"I'll make something light. You like eating healthy, right girl?" He waited for her answer.

"Uh--yeah. I don't usually--I should though." She admitted.

"Alright then, I still have some chicken left. How about lettuce wraps? I'll fire up the oven--it's basically a grill if you know what you're doing. How does that sound?"

Ailin didn't anticipate being asked what she wanted, but she liked it.

"Yeah that sounds great--Oh! I can make a spicy salsa to dip the wraps--that will be so good."

"Perfect, I haven't had a good salsa since--" the sudden silence from Reinhard brought Ailin realization.

"If it's too painful--"

"No." Reinhard's tone was a little firmer than he had meant. He cleared his throat. "No, it's okay. Please make it, I am sure anything that comes from you will be amazing."

Ailin could see the smile he gave her trembled, but before she could think of what to say, he turned away.

"Okay, the chicken. I need to cut that up. You get started on that authentic salsa. What is your preferred base--jalapeño? Poblano? Habanero?"

Ailin decided the best thing to do was not to dwell.

"Chile de árbol."

"Oh! Red salsa. Perfect. You do know what you are doing then." He smiled, this time genuinely, as he touched her bare shoulder.

Almost as soon as he did it, his hand was gone. Ailin had briefly felt the warmth of it before it had been taken away. It was strange, it wasn't what she expected now--every time it felt more welcome. It was reassuring, she was doing something right--and was being appreciated for it.

Blinking, she turned to the fridge and started to get the ingredients.

From there, she grabbed the tomatillos, yellow onion, garlic, lime, and a poblano for taste.

Maria always told her these--with variational substitutions--and salt were the pillars of every good salsa. That was something that Ailin was never going to go against.

Next was the worcestershire sauce and the brand new chile de arbol package from the cabinet. The two main ingredients of the sauce.

Lastly, the salt and two avocados that had been sitting on the counter for a couple of days--ripening.

She washed the vegetables, then filled a pan with hot water, placing it on the stove. All the vegetables went in after she peeled the tomatillos and onion, and deseeded the poblano. In another boiling pot, she boiled the chile de arbol.

Then she watched Reinhard prepping the chicken breasts using a seasoning blend he had already prepared. She wondered if that's what he had been using on the delicious meats he had made so far--breakfast and the chicken in the pasta.

When he noticed her interested gaze, he held it up.

"Salt, black pepper, and garlic and onion powder, of course. Paprika and cumin for the earth flavor. Thyme for the aroma. And oregano and cayenne to unlock that bitter spice in each meat." Next he held a mason jar of what looked like marinade. "Red wine base. Coriander powder--nutty citrus, kind of sweet--mixed with some minced garlic and grated onion. And finally, canola oil to showcase the seasoning. You don't want to use olive oil. Makes it taste like feet and overpowers the flavor."

Ailin was locked into the lesson, she nodded along.

"¡O okai! So--" realizing her accent slipped again, she overcorrected, trying not to sound dumb--she expected to be perceived that way, especially by men like Reinhard. "Okay. I understand."

Reinhard seemed to look at her with a serious stare and he shook his head. She was beginning to feel shame when he surprised her with his words.

"Tu no tenes que esconder. Esconder-te? Is that the correct way? This bird app Amber downloaded a while ago for me has been teaching me."

The Spanish was a little rough and the American accent was heavy, but Ailin smiled wide. Fresh tears at the corners of her eyes.

This was more than Noah had ever tried.

She hugged Reinhard tight, burying her face into his collared shirt.

"Thank you so much, sir. That means a lot that you are learning."

Reinhard hugged her back, putting his hand on the back of her head and stroking her hair.

"I'm in your house, darling. I need to learn how to speak all your languages. I noticed over the last week how you keep getting self-conscious whenever you think you have slipped up. But you don't have to." He disengaged and held her at arms length--one hand on her waist and the other stroking her cheek. Thumb wiping the tears off her cheeks. "I appreciate you for you, not for who you think you're supposed to be in front of me. You can be yourself around me, okay darling?"

*

Reinhard

Madailin's pouty lips as she tried to keep from letting herself cry quivered. Reinhard wanted nothing more than to steady them with his.

But all in due time.

He moved his hand from her cheek to the back of her neck--without losing contact with her skin--and pulled her towards him.

Planting a heartfelt kiss on her forehead, he released her.

*

Ailin

Flustered and overwhelmed with how emotional she had been lately, Ailin wiped her tears and apologized.

"Lo siento--jaja..." She didn't know why she laughed--maybe nerves, embarrassment--or maybe relief? "I just--I have been super emotional--I don't know why--"

Reinhard finished seasoning the chicken and placed it into the oven preheated at 325.

"You don't have to explain yourself to me, girl--if you don't want to. Just being around you, it reminds me of my Madeline--so I'll take you any way you let me have you." He smiled at her.

In her emotional--self-hyper-aware state--she only smiled at his words. Right now, they meant she didn't have to be lonely with her own thoughts and emotions about why Noah didn't want to be home even if it was just for her.

As the minutes passed, speaking with Reinhard, she began to realize how much she really didn't know about Noah's past. At least before his college days. Doubt pulled at the edges of her consciousness though--how much of after his college days did she even know? He was always vague about his past relationships--it was like nothing existed outside of being a police officer and having met her. At least, it didn't exist between her and Noah because he never told her about anything.

Finally, the timer next to the oven dinged.

Ailin looked at the clock on her phone--11:00 PM and still no Noah. No text either.

Just a couple of weeks ago he would have double texted her after a few hours if she hadn't been able to respond. But now?

"Alright, darling. It's time to finally eat."

Ailin prepared a few leaves of lettuce, spreading them out for Reinhard as he placed the chicken breasts between her fingers. With a butter knife, he scraped the golden red crust on the meat.

"Locks in the juice for every bite."

The salsa was blended and ready to be dipped into. The creamy avocado and the low volume of water made it more of a soft paste as they dipped their wraps directly into the bowl.

Excitedly, Ailin spoke.

"Moment of truth." She looked at Reinhard and he reciprocated--she could feel her spine tingling with anticipation.

"We're about to find out how well we work together, darling. At the count of three. One... two... three." They both bit into their wrap--chewing slowly.

At that moment, Ailin was six years old again, biting into the very first salsa laden tacos she had helped Maria make. The salsa had needed a bit more salt and the vegetables had needed more time boiling, but the impact was the same.

The collaboration had been amazing.

They let each flavor fill their senses before Ailin finally broke the silence.

She rolled her eyes and couldn't hold back the groan in the back of her throat.

"Mmm."

Reinhard grunted--approval. Normally, Reinhard was eloquent. Words came easily to him, but this flavor was too intoxicating.

"That's--wow. Ailin, your salsa?" He made the 'okay' sign. "It's perfection. You complimented my marinade and the meat just--" He ended his statement by kissing the tips of his fingers.

Reaching his arm around her, he pulled her to a tight side hug--slightly digging his fingers into her shoulder--sending electricity down her arm.

"Es la mejor--like the best wrap I have ever tasted." She took another bite.

"I have a feeling this is the beginning of a delicious partnership."

Ailin didn't disagree.

*

Noah

Noah knocked on Dr. Samson's door. It had been a few days since that first appointment, but he wasn't any less nervous. Everything they had spoken about... and everything he had kept to himself kept him in his head every single moment. Even at work, he wasn't able to separate himself anymore--his world's were merging in his head and he didn't know how to stop it.

"Come in." Dr. Samson's gentle voice came through.

Noah's tree trunk legs suddenly became shaky as he placed his hand on the handle.

He thought about turning around right there and then and leaving. He didn't have to think about any of this--he could just leave and never come back. They didn't need the promotion. He didn't need to address all this painful shit. So far that had worked for him...

Until recently.

Sighing, he turned the handle and opened the door.

"Noah. You're early."

"I just... I haven't been able to sleep well." He walked over to the couch and sat in the same exact spot.

"Why do you think that is?"

"Just--a lot on my mind." Massaging his temples hadn't worked all week, but he still tried now--the headache from lack of sleep was persistent, though.

"What has been on your mind?"

Noah looked behind Dr. Samson. The door stood there ominously--closed. But the sounds... the sounds he could hear coming from the other side made him cringe.

Noah shivered.

"Are you ready to tell me what you keep looking at behind me?" Dr. Samson was at the ready with her pen--ink staining the paper, spreading.

His eyes hardened.

"No."

"Alright, how about the relationship with the person before Brooke, Kacey?"

Noah looked off to the other door, the real one. What had happened with Kacey was something that he had no excuse for.

He wasn't ready to talk about Kacey.

What the fuck is wrong with you? Why would you do that? Her voice echoed in his mind stronger than ever since his last visit with Dr. Samson.

At the time, he hadn't had a response for Kacey as to why he did what he did. But he knew. He always knew. It was what Reinhard had done with Navi and he needed to emulate that to feel like a man.

It was what Ailin had asked him for.

What Kacey never did.

"Noah. Be right here, right now." Click, click. Noah looked back at her, nodding his head. "I understand you are uncomfortable talking about your past. But in order for us to make progress, you need to. Pick something--Brooke and James, your relationship before Brooke, or what you keep seeing behind me.

Noah blinked. Those were three horrible choices. It was either that or talking about his current situation...

"Brooke and James--I guess." He crossed his arms, holding his right hand under his left armpit as it began to ache.

"Okay. So... take me back to right before that night. We know how it ends, obviously, your relationship with Brooke ended--" Pain shot through Noah's stomach and he squirmed. "And you have told me a little about the beginning of the relationship. So, how do we get to that night? You mentioned she did tell you nothing was happening, tell me about that. What were those conversations like?"

Noah sighed.

"I had asked her if everything was okay between us and she was confused. At the time, I had taken that as if she was hiding something--it's so stupid because now--" He frustratedly ran his fingers through his hair. "I know that she was genuinely confused. It was a fantasy I made up in my head while she was just--just fucking existing. I don't know."

Dr. Samson frowned for only a moment, then her mask came back up--but she stayed quiet, waiting for him to continue.

"But it got worse... I kept asking--because I saw them talking after work. She didn't know I was there--and nothing ever happened. I didn't see anything happen. And every time I asked her, she got more and more frustrated. One day--"

He stopped--swallowed--breathed in... out and then sat up. But when his voice came out it was shaky.

"She broke up with me. She said I was being too controlling and I was starting to remind her more and more of her ex--her toxic ex."

He closed his eyes and put his face in his hands, but he kept talking--the sound coming out muffled.

"I begged her. I told her that I would change and that I was just being insecure because of--" He let his hands fall onto his lap--his eyes had gone wide for a second as he realized what he was about to disclose. "Because of some stuff I went through before."

Dr. Samson took a note, making Noah want to get swallowed up by the couch.

"With your previous relationship, Kacey?"

"No, from another relationship."

"Okay, so there's a fourth girl, that's where this happened--the thing that impacted you?"

Noah's stomach started to churn.

"Yes."

"And you don't want to talk about this one either?"

His leg started to shake.

"No ma--Dr. Samson. I do not."

"You know eventually you will need to, right?"

"I--I'm not ready."

"Okay. We'll table that one for now, too. But pretty soon that table is going to run out of room, Noah."

Noah imagined that table. Everything falling off of it. Thumping. Skidding. The sounds behind the door intensified--irresistible, louder than he could bear.

*

As Noah came up to the unlocked front door and opened it, he realized that had been a mistake.

He had told Reinhard he was going to be moving out and that he would be picking up his stuff that day. He could hear Reinhard and Navi inside. Their sounds made his stomach turn over and his legs weak. Grabbing onto the doorway, he stood there for a moment.

He could just turn around and leave. Sprint back to his beat up old car--drive away and never look back. But he didn't.

The tendrils in his stomach had taken hold of him completely as jealousy and arousal coursed through his every cell. They forced him forward.

It was a few painful steps forward before the kitchen came into view. But he heard the table and what was happening on it before he witnessed it.

The thuds, the table legs skidding along the floor when Reinhard drove especially hard, drawing Navi's high-pitched yelps.

Her flawless and soft mocha skin contrasted from Reinhard's tanned white, tattooed leathery hide as they came together at the hips. Navi was on her back, beautiful brown nipples crowning her cresting arch. Her back never touching the table, her thin arms flexed as she tried to claw for something to grab onto--only to have her fingers slip on the glossy wooden surface.

Her legs, long and lean rested against Reinhard's chest where his arms were wrapped around her thighs, greedily holding her to himself so each pump wouldn't push her away. Noah could see the imprints of his fingers sporadically along those thighs and hips--Reinhard's marks.

"Please, sir. I want to--oooh--please let me cum!" Navi whined, begging--her words cut Noah deeper than the images did.

Roughly, she began squeezing her small breasts together--offering them to Reinhard. The old man took the bait, his rough hands releasing her legs as he bent over her smaller body. Her legs widened obscenely to accommodate him.

"You're a hot little bitch. I still can't believe that limp dick cuck hadn't fucked you yet."

Reinhard comfortably sunk in another inch, causing her to moan again. Her legs wrapped around him, needing him to bottom out. But he didn't give in, instead he grabbed her nipples in between his fingers and twisted them.

"Impatient little whore."

Noah would never forget that toothy, wolffish smile. Every time He thought of Reinhard since then, it was that face.

"Ow! Fuuuck! Yes! Like that--sir. I like it--it rough, don't st--aah!" She gasped.

The slap happened so fast, so hard that Noah flinched.

Navi looked up at Reinhard, a stunned mixture of fear and--was that arousal? Noah was sure it was--lit up Navi's visage.

Her pretty, dark chocolate eyes watered, and she clenched them as Reinhard grabbed her shoulders and started to pound into her--holding her in place like a cock sleeve. Her face became a grimace, her moans compulsory and guttural.

They matched Reinhard's own animalistic groans and growls.

Then he looked up, seeing Noah's bewildered stare--a deer caught in the headlights--and he smiled.

At that moment, Noah's tendrils strengthened and slithered around his stomach and spine, then down to his legs. They held him in place, forcing him to watch--frozen.

His head hurt and heart pounded together--equal parts pain and excitement.

"What do you think Noah would say if he saw you right now? Hm? His perfect little brown girlfriend being used like an exotic whore?"

"I do--don't want--oh fuck!--to talk abo--ohhh shit! Noah!" She pulled Reinhard into herself with her legs--her building climax taking over.

"I think he wants to see you get fucked. By--fuck you're tight--by a real man. To see you for who you are--what you were meant fooOOR!" Reinhard growled, needing to slow down before he came.

"Please! I need it--"

Reinhard grabbed Navi by the neck, both of his hands pinning her against the table. Noah's senses dulled except for his sight and hearing--he couldn't look away and all he could hear was how Navi's mouth tried to gulp in air.

But she couldn't.

Noah's mouth pulled open painfully--he hadn't noticed his jaw was clenched before. His own hand pulled at the new of his shirt, he felt like he couldn't breathe either.

Instead of her hands clawing at Reinhard--trying to wrench his grip on her neck away or her nails digging into him to fight him by inflicting pain--her hands went straight to her tits. She pinched and pulled her nipples harshly.

Her face was red and strained, the vein in her forehead visible while Reinhard slammed into her pussy, his balls grotesquely slapping her ass.

But all she could manage were choked gasps.

"This is all you are meant for--fuck!" He growled through gritted teeth. "If only you could see yourself--God--how I see you. You look amazing on my cock--ugh--right now--so fucking pretty!" He screamed above her and threw his head back--relentless thrusts causing the table to skid and screech.

Noah watched as Reinhard tensed up--his mouth opened wide without a sound--mirroring Navi.

Her eyes were rolling to the back of her head--all of her extremities trembling.

Reinhard's body pulsed for a few seconds before he went slack, his grip loosening on Navi's neck and he fell over her, bellowing into her chest.

"AAAHHHHH!" The shriek from Navi's throat as soon as she drew in air made Noah flinch--

Click click.