He drives for what seems like ages, finally pulling over to the side of the road. He cuts the engine and looks at me. I smile and hold his hand. "This where you want to be?" he asks quietly. I look out of the window and see nothing, nobody, just desert. I look back at him and nod. "Walk with me?" I ask. He nods and slides out of the seat, pulling me with him. We walk for ages, his arm loosely around my waist, neither of us talking.
"What happens now?" he asks quietly as we walk back to the truck. "With us, I mean?" "I don't know" I admit. "I'm scared to even set foot in an arena Jon, wrestling isn't an option for me. But being alone scares me too. I love you, I really do, but wrestling is your life, and with you gone so much..." "No" he says harshly. "You, Lora. You are my life. Wrestling takes a back seat to you." I shake my head. "No Jon" I say. "If we are truly going to work at this, at us, you need to promise me you won't stop wrestling." He pauses for a second before nodding. "I promise" he whispers. "Good" I say quietly. "Let's go home, Jon." He nods and holds my hand tightly as we walk.
Its dark by the time he pulls up outside the apartment. We've been gone all day, seeing nobody, and I've loved it. He cuts the engine and looks at me expectantly. I shake my head. "I don't want to go inside yet" I whisper. He nods, holding my hand. "Whenever you're ready, I'm here" he says, making me look at him. "What do you want to do, Lora?" I smirk, sliding across the seat until our thighs are touching. "I want to be with my husband" I say quietly. "I want to hide out out here like dating teenagers who don't want to say goodnight." "Ok" he says slowly. "And what exactly do dating teenagers do when they don't want to say goodnight?" "They make out, silly" I whisper, straddling his lap and kissing him softly. "Damn I missed out as a teenager" he smirks, kissing me back. "Well then Ambrose" I whisper. "I'll just have to show you what you missed out on, won't I?" "Indeed you will" he whispers back, hesitating before kissing me softly. I moan and bunch my hands in his hair, holding on to him for dear life.
We stay in the truck for what seems like hours, our breath steaming the windows up. "Wanna go inside?" he asks quietly. I kiss him again and nod. It's getting kinda cold now. Plus I think my husband is hungry. His stomach growls again to prove my point. He shrugs and opens the door, turning and carrying me out, holding on to me tightly as he locks the truck and carries me up to the apartment. As soon as we're inside he carries me from room to room, switching on all the lights. I smile. "I don't need them all on Jon" I whisper. "I've got you, right?" "Right" he says, kissing me slowly. "Guess I'm over my hunger pains doll, you wanna go make out some more? In comfort this time?" I smile and nod, laughing as he retraces his steps and turns all the lights off again.
When we get into the bedroom he lies me on the bed softly before turning the bedside light on and the main light off. "This ok?" he asks quietly, lifting his shirt. I nod, biting my lip as he slowly takes his shirt off. He strips down to his boxers and gets on the bed with me. "You staying in your clothes doll?" he asks quietly. I shake my head, pulling my top off and sliding my skirt down, throwing both of them on the floor. He smiles at me as I lie next to him. "Better?" I ask. He nods, his eyes dark. "Much" he groans, kissing me softly. "I've missed this" I admit quietly. He nods, kissing me again. "I've missed it too" he says. "Just being with you, lying here, we missed out on a lot Lora." I nod, biting my lip. "I'm sorry Jon" I whisper. He shakes his head. "Not your fault Lora" he says. "It is" I say, holding up my hand to stop him protesting. "It's my fault, because I blamed you, and I pushed you away." He nods slowly. "You did" he agrees. "But I expected it. The liaison officer warned me about, what's it called? Stockholm syndrome? Where kidnapped people empathise with their captors? They warned me that if they found you alive, that it could happen, because you'd spent so much time with them and nobody knew what they were saying to you." I nod. "I don't empathise with the sick fuckers now" I say. He looks at me, shocked. "Oh come on Jon" I say, sitting up. "I'm in bed with my husband, stuck at first base because I can't sleep with him in case those fuckers gave me something by using a dirty needle! Three months Jon. Three months of first base." "Did I tell you I like first base?" he says quietly, pulling me back down to him. "Remember, deprived teenager here. I'll gladly go through it all again with you Lor. We can do this." I nod. He's right. With him, I can do anything.