Page 45 of With This Lie

Dani

I wakeup the next morning still wrapped up in Lucas’s arms, so comfortable I would probably fall back asleep if I lie here too long.

“Good morning you,” he whispers into my ear.

I feel his hands start to move over my body. We like taking each other in the morning. It’s the best way to start the day. “Good morning to you, lover,” I reply. I pull him on top of me and feel him begin to move against me. He kisses my neck because we both understand there’s nothing sexy about morning breath. My hands rub his back. I’ve come to enjoy this morning ritual. We’ve carved out these few moments of lazy, slow morning sex each time he’s spent the night and each time my day has always been better.

I can feel him inside me now and I begin to moan against his collarbone. I kiss and bite him. The pace quickens and I spiral out of control. After he finishes, he gets up to shower and leaves me on the bed.

“Are you coming to shower?” he asks.

“I’ll be there in just a second. Still basking,” I say.

He leaves the room and I hear him start the water. I close my eyes and steady my breath for a few minutes, relaxing in the aftermath of my orgasm. A smile spreads across my lips and against my better judgment, I know these days we make love more than we fuck. We both know it and we’ve both ignored saying anything about it. But I don’t feel like this after meaningless sex. I’ve never felt like this with a guy. A married man. I can’t pretend anymore. Not that I could do anything about it. I knew the deal. Married men never leave their wives, I remind myself. I knew that. I could pretend though, couldn’t I? I could imagine the possibilities. I could close my eyes every once in a while, and dream of a different life.

Is this what love is? It’s not like I had ever let myself feel it for a man. Is this aching for another what people call love? Perhaps going to meet my mother is a bad idea. Perhaps this whole thing is a bad idea. I have to start thinking about ending it soon. For my sake. I brush the thoughts away and head for the bathroom.

“There you are,” he says.

“Here I am,” I say, smiling. I climb into the hot shower and my shoulders slump.

“Want me to help wash you?” he asks, grinning.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” I say.

He takes the loofa and lathers it in his hands. He starts rubbing it over my back and neck first, taking his time. “Turn please,” he says.

I oblige. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” he says.

“What happened between you and your brother? I know you said you had a falling out but you never said what it was about. You did say it was a later date thing, and I think it’s safe to say we are past that.”

Lucas falls silent for several minutes.

“Sorry, you don’t have to answer,” I say. “I didn’t mean to drudge up something you didn’t want to talk about.”

“No, no, it’s okay. Look, I don’t want to go into the details right now, but I’ll say this. He betrayed me. In a really big way. A way I never would have thought a brother would. I haven’t spoken to him since then until recently, while trying to mend things. After my mom died, I realized he’s the only family I have,” he says.

I brush his wet hair clinging to his face away. “I’m sorry you had to deal with that.”

“It’s okay,” he says.

“Can I ask you something else?” I ask.

“Sure.”

“What does it feel like to fall in love?” I ask.

His eyes shoot up to meet mine. He keeps washing my breasts and shoulders, but there’s surprise in his face. “You’ve never been in love?”

“Well, no not really. I designed my life so that I wouldn’t.” I say.

He lets my words sink in for a moment. “Well, um, it’s difficult to explain. When it happens the first time, it’s like everything else sort of falls away, seems less important, and you want to spend all your time with them and it doesn’t feel like too much. It always feels like not enough. And you put them before yourself. Their happiness, everything. And nothing really makes sense, there’s no why. Why doesn’t exist. You just do. You’d do anything for them. You’d die for them. There’s a warmth that radiates throughout your body even when you’re just thinking about them and you know they’re responsible for it. And you want to be a better person for them. You want to do better for them.” His words trail off. “I’m not explaining it right.”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“Falling in love feels like exactly that. You’re falling. And it’s out of your control and there’s nothing you can do to stop it and you’re scared and you’re at peace and you want to laugh and cry and you want to reach for a lifeline but you’re pretty sure falling is the lifeline. You know nothing will ever be the same. And you’re just praying the other person feels the same way. You’re praying they’re going to take your heart and tuck it safely into their chest. Because that’s where it belongs now.” He rinses the soap from me and lets me rinse my hair.