They fucked.
They came.
A live sex scene played out behind a one-way window as they did it and neither of them paid any attention.
They had both come down, he was still inside her and holding her, his hand now gentle in her hair, having allowed her to slide her forehead to his shoulder.
“I won’t fuck him,” she whispered.
He relaxed.
Completely.
And gave her a squeeze.
A goddamned squeeze.
He couldn’t stop it.
He knew why. He knew it. He knew he was fucked by it.
He shouldn’t care who she fucked.
But he did.
It wasn’t (all) about going ungloved.
It was much more than that.
Fuck.
Shit.
Fuck.
Yeah, he was drowning.
And he had to resurface.
Soon.
Chapter Eleven
A Perfect Goddamned World
Olivia
12:32 – Friday Afternoon
I sat across from Georgia at Rioja, barely having my ass to the chair and my purse set aside before I grabbed my napkin to shake it out and put it on my lap. This was my indication, regardless that she chose Rioja, a place I’d normally wish to linger, that I wanted this to go quickly.
“David’s disappeared.”
At her announcement, I casually finished laying my napkin on my lap and shared, “Not surprisingly, since he’d like to be somewhere far away to enjoy the seven million¸ six hundred twenty-three thousand, two hundred forty two dollars he stole from us.”
Her brown eyes went wired and her mouth got tight.
Georgia and I shared Dad’s straight black hair and olive skin. She got his brown eyes. Mom’s eyes were blue. I had no idea where my eyes came from. I just always liked the fact that there was something of mine that was none of theirs.