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Thanks to Hadley for edits (mistakes are mine!) and to Paige for reading over this a second time! :3

25
- every little kiss -

I'm still awake when Jared gets home from his dad's retirement dinner.

It's almost eleven. I've been trying to sleep, but I can't. My mind won't stop playing out every possible scenario.

I think about leaving Jared and tearing apart our family. Staying with him and being unhappy. Ending things with Edward and being unhappy. Continuing this, giving Edward parts of myself, letting him spark life into me for however long he's willing.

All of it makes me sad and sick.

When Jared finally makes it into the room, I pretend I'm asleep.

The scent of whiskey fills the space, and I listen to him get ready for bed. The bathroom light turns on, shining on my closed eyes. He's not even trying to be quiet, slamming cabinets, letting the water run full blast while he brushes his teeth.

It's like he wants to wake me.

Maybe he wants to fight.

Or fuck.

But I keep my eyes clenched shut and pretend I'm sleeping peacefully.

Inside, I'm dying.

I purposefully keep my breath steady, soft, and deep. Eventually, I do fall asleep. I don't wake until morning when Mikey is climbing into bed, and I'm alone, Jared nowhere in sight.

"Momma, morning," Mikey says sweetly.

I pull him against me and snuggle him tight. He lets me cuddle him for exactly two seconds before he's sliding off the mattress and running down the hall.

I groggily laugh and grab my phone. It's just after seven, and I have a text from Jared.

Jared: Went in early since I left work early yesterday. Sorry for being a dick last night… don't be mad.

Despite the argument I started in the car, I am still upset with him because he told his parents we're trying for a baby when we're not.

Part of me doesn't even want to tell him I know, though. I just want to let it be. To let it go. I don't want another fight—another evening spent spewing words—only to call a truce because neither of us wants to deal with it.

Following Mikey down the stairs takes a full minute, but I love how careful he's being, taking one step at a time and holding onto the railing.

When we make it to the bottom step, I see movement out the front window. I move closer and pull back the sheer curtain to see Edward wheeling his garbage can down to the curb. I watch him for a minute and see Gianna's car backing out of the driveway. She stops where Edward is, her window rolling down. They talk for a second. He looks annoyed. She does, too, shaking her head, her mouth turned down. He starts to walk away. She says something else, and he turns back. He laughs.

I should look away, but I don't. I watch as he ducks his head inside the car to kiss her goodbye.

It's brief.

Just a small peck.

I can't tell if he kissed her cheek or her mouth, but does it matter?

It was affectionate. They thought no one was looking.

I let the curtain fall back into place and walk away.

XXX

I stop by my client's house on the way to take Mikey to preschool. It takes longer to get him in and out of his carseat than it does to shove the comforter back into the fucking duvet, but it's done, my bases covered.

I see Edward at school drop-off. We're both helping our boys put their belongings into their cubbies. Edward smiles at me and offers a soft "hi." To anyone else, he's just being polite. But I know. From the sound of his voice and the look in his eyes, I know he's saying so much more.

I know what every inch of your body tastes like. I know how you feel beneath me. I know the sounds that you make when I put my mouth on you.

Maybe that's not the message that he's trying to convey. But that's all I can think of.

I say hi, too, but focus on Mikey again, reminding him to wash his hands and to go check what his job of the day is.

Line leader.

He's excited, and it's easy to smile at him.

I can see the moment he starts to get sad I'm about to leave him. I hug him and kiss him, and when I notice Edward lingering by the door for me, I do it all again. One more kiss. One more hug. For courage. For both of us.

Edward and I wordlessly walk side by side until we're standing outside my SUV.

"How are you?" he asks, staring too intently at my face.

"I don't know. I don't… know."

I play with my keys.

"Are you—"

He abruptly stops talking as a mom walks by. She watches us, smiling politely when Edward waves.

I neither smile nor wave, assaulted by a pang of possessiveness when it looks like she's discreetly checking him out.

I entertain a sick idea—Edward eventually being single and available for the divorced moms in the class. But he wouldn't, would he? If I stay with Jared, why wouldn't he?

We're quiet. He watches me. Too hard, too intently. Like he's trying to read my mind. Like he wants to know everything, even the bad stuff.

Should I end this? Tell him we can't? Should I take him back to that house and have a repeat? We could spend all day in that bed. All fucking day. Touching and kissing and learning each other, committing every sound and gasp and expression to memory. I think I would love it. I think I would confess things to him that I shouldn't be allowed to feel as a married woman. And that's scary to me. It's terrifying. It's ugly, no matter how true it is.

But no, we won't go back to that house. We can't. Our time there yesterday was impulsive. Unplanned. Desire clouded our minds. Going back would be a choice. It would be intentional. I don't think I can do that.

"Bella."

His voice grounds me.

"I think I lied to you," I say, my voice cracking.

"Okay."

"Okay? Do you even want to know what I lied about?"

"I have a good idea," he murmurs, sounding dejected. "You regret it—me. Us."

"No." I move closer, then instantly stop myself because we're still in the school parking lot, and any looks or touches have to be platonic. "No, I don't. I could never. But I do feel guilty. When I'm not with you, I feel guilty. When I'm with you, I feel like… things are right. They make sense. It's confusing."

He doesn't look upset or worried. But maybe that's because my words were truthful and he appreciates honesty.

"I'm in over my head," I admit. "I've never… I don't…"

"Me too. Trust me," he mumbles. "I mean, you do, right? You trust me?"

He looks so sincere. Round eyes. Mouth turned down in a sad smile.

"Of course, I do."

"And you know I'd never do anything to hurt you," he adds. "Ever."

I stare at my sneakers. "I don't know. Seeing you kiss Gianna goodbye this morning kind of hurt," I say without thinking. But I don't really care that he knows I saw.

"Expectations," he says, and I wonder just how much of his life with Gianna is just that—routine and familiarity and expected.

Am I so different with Jared, though?

"It's okay. I'm not one to talk," I say, like I'm trying to reassure him that I get it because I do. "I have a partner, too. Someone who expects goodbye kisses." My words do the opposite of reassuring him because his gaze darkens.

Another parent drives by us and waves.

"Can we get out of here?" Edward suddenly asks. "Go to our cafe?" I love that he calls it ours. "We can get coffee and just… be, for a little while? Before we have to work?"

Giving in feels easy. "Okay."

I follow him there. At one point, the car in the next lane turns on their blinker and tries to get over, not seeing I'm in their blind spot. Panic rises, and I jerk my wheel and blare my horn before they can collide with me. Thankfully, my horn warns them, and they drive straight ahead and wave an apology. My heart pounds from the close call.

Edward and I get separated after that when he makes it through a stoplight, and I don't. We're still twenty minutes from the bookstore, but I know where I'm going. When the light is finally green, and I drive ahead, I see Edward pulled over on the side of the road to wait for me, his hazards flashing. After I pass him, he veers back onto the street and follows behind me. It's sweet. Like he wants to make sure I get there safely. Maybe I'm starved for attention and affection, but no one's ever done that for me before. Sure, it's unnecessary, but it's protective of him, and I realize I crave that comfort.

After we park on the street, Edward comes over and opens my door. I immediately get out and kiss him.

Fully on the mouth.

Right here, in the middle of the road.

I like that he lets me. That he doesn't act surprised that I just had to kiss him. His eyes immediately close. One hand on my waist, the other tangled in my hair, leaning me back a little, like he's starved for this, too. My eyes flutter shut after that, and I smooth my hands up his chest, fisting his shirt.

The sun is shining, and anyone could see, but not anyone who knows us or matters. I don't want this to be that. Hiding in dark corners. Secretive spaces.

We kiss, and the world blurs. We kiss, and my inner turmoil melts and melts and melts away.

There is nothing else but us.

I feel like a crazed person who is only about him, him, him. But I feel in his kiss and his touch that he is only about me, me, me too.

"I'm not like this," I tell him when we finally break apart. "This isn't me. I don't just do what I want, whenever I want. I don't usually feel this way."

"What way?" he whispers.

I look up at him, my gaze and heart tender with affection. "Like you're everything to me."

His smile is just… the fucking best. He tucks some hair behind my ear.

"If it's too much, we can stop, Bella," he reassures me. "Any time. Just say the word."

I press my face against his chest and breathe him in. "Do you mean it?"

"No. I don't want to mean it. But if you need that, I would try. For you, I could try, but I'd hate every second of being away from you."

I don't know if that is the best or worst thing to say.

All I know is that right now, at this moment, I don't want us to stop.

We walk into the bookstore. His novels are still there, where I put them on the "Staff Picks" table. I smile, and he smirks, shaking his head.

We order coffee, and he pays. Our table in the courtyard is occupied, but it doesn't matter. We find an empty one, and he pulls out my chair, then scoots his impossibly closer to mine.

"Why did you leave the party early last night, but Jared didn't?" he asks, with a no-bullshit attitude.

"How do you know Jared didn't?"

"I saw him come home late. Like eleven or something."

"You were up?"

He smiles faintly. "Couldn't sleep for shit. I heard his car door slam shut and went to go see. Nosy neighbor, remember?"

"My favorite nosy neighbor," I tease. "I left the party early because I was panicking. I had no time after being with you." I pause. "Also, Jared and I had a fight on the way there."

"I'm sorry." He sounds and looks sincere because he is. He doesn't want me to fight with my husband. He doesn't want to cause me trouble.

"Don't be sorry. It was my fault. I started a fight with him. I was being a bitch… I am being a bitch."

How quickly I can go from feeling like this might be okay to knowing I'm the worst version of myself right now.

But I'm not, am I? When I'm with Edward I feel like myself. Unguarded. Vulnerable. Honest.

He anxiously spins his mug on the saucer. "Please don't say that about yourself. You're not a bitch. You could never be a bitch."

"Well?" I stare down into my coffee, unsure where this conversation should go now. "Is your marriage really ending?" Surely that wasn't the right route to take, but we're going there anyway, nothing off-limits.

He's too quiet. I look at him. I see sadness there and also uncertainty. But I'm glad. If he outright said yes, I might worry that he has no loyalty or conscience. I don't want him to be that man. Despite the choices we've made, I want him to be good. To have a heart. He can still be good, I hope. We both can.

"Yeah, it's really ending," he finally answers. "I mean, it's basically already over. She feels it, too. I know she does. I just don't understand what's keeping her here, you know? I don't know what she's getting out of this."

"If I were her, I wouldn't want to let you go," I say honestly.

His gaze goes soft. "But you're you, and you're different."

"When are you going to tell her?"

"Our first therapy session got pushed to next week because she has to go to San Francisco at the last minute. So, I guess I'll start the conversation then."

"Are you sad?" I ask.

"I don't know what I am anymore, Bella. Resigned, maybe? But happy with you. It's a weird place to be in." He links our fingers together. "If I could go back…" he whispers.

"But you wouldn't have Seth." I'm whispering too.

"I know. Trust me, it's the only thing keeping me from beating myself up entirely."

I move closer. Touch his face. "Don't beat yourself up. Your face is too handsome for that."

He pulls my hand away to kiss my palm. "It's not my face I should be worried about. It's my fucking heart."

I swallow thickly. "Worried about it with Gianna or me?"

"You. Always you," he says softly. "You have the ability to break me. Ruin me."

I want to reassure him that his heart will be safe with me, but I'm not sure I have the right to promise him that just yet.

And I'm not just ruining him, but myself, too.

We both are.

In this mess, that's a given.

"I feel the same way about you," I softly admit, my heart working overtime. "That you could ruin me. Hurt me."

"But I wouldn't. I won't. I'm ready to leave Gianna. And you're… I don't know what you're thinking. But I'm not going to push. I told you, regardless of what happens with you and Jared, Gianna and I need to split, anyway."

My fingers brush his jaw. "I just need a little time, I think." Maybe it's a cop-out, but it's true. I just need more time.

Edward stays stoic. "Okay. I can give you time."

We let the subject of future plans fade away, focusing on the present. We drink our coffee. He distracts himself by playing with a piece of my hair and letting it fall through his fingers. He does this over and over again, and it's comforting.

"I don't want to go to work," I sigh, our time running out.

"Trust me, there are so many other things I'd rather do."

He doesn't say it, but I think I know what he's thinking.

I can see it in his gaze. Feel it in his touch.

"Another time," I say, making a promise I want to fulfill more than anything.

He smiles. "That will be my second favorite day."

"What's your first?" I ask, and he just grins while my cheeks heat.

He cups my face, thumbs brushing over my blush, and he kisses me.

Fully on the mouth.

Right here, in the middle of the courtyard.

With lips against lips he whispers, "My favorite day will be the day you're mine."

XXX

Over the next few days, I go back and forth feeling guilty about what Edward and I are doing.

The day after we meet at the cafe, I convince myself we can't do this anymore. No more kissing, no touching. No longing for us to have another day in bed together even though it's all I can think about. I tell myself I'm a bad wife. A shitty person. Jared and Gianna don't deserve this. Neither do our kids.

Then the next day I'm meeting up with Edward for lunch, and we're making out in my car before we have to say goodbye.

They're soft, sensual kisses. Kisses that you give someone when you have only one thing in mind. Kisses you give someone you care for. They're kisses he wants me to remember. Kisses I never want to forget. They make my heart bloom and burst, and then I'm back to feeling like I don't deserve them. How can I? Why would I?

All of it is fucked. I know it is. If Jared or Gianna ever found out about this, it would kill them.

I don't know what's wrong with us, though. How can it feel so right but be so, so wrong?

When I toss and turn at night, I ask myself a lot of questions in a similar vein. Do I want this to continue? Yeah, I do. But then what? I know Edward's on the verge of leaving Gianna. When will I leave Jared? I don't think I can do it before he makes partner—I can't do that to him. I'm not always happy but is anyone? Our marriage isn't perfect, but he's not a bad man. Not intentionally. He loves me, and I love him, in some way. In other ways, Edward gives me what I need. Fully. And again, it's fucked because how can someone who isn't my husband able to give me everything I never knew I needed?

Edward hears me. Sees me. Listens. Asks questions. He wants to know things. Learn things. He's eager and attentive. Present and protective. He puts in the time and effort, not only with me but with my son, too.

Was Jared ever that way? Even in the beginning? I don't know. I can't remember that far back, but I don't think he was.

I know the grass isn't always greener. I know this newfound excitement and honeymoon phase with Edward won't last forever. But I don't just want different grass. I want a different climate. The grass can be dead, and the sun doesn't have to shine. Nothing has to be perfect. As far as Edward is concerned, he is the sun. And I'm blinded by him.