Eric shifts his car to park and steps out into the garage of his house, sighing in relief with the sense of being able to relax after a long Thursday at work. He climbs up a couple of stairs and enters his house, wondering if he'll be able to smell dinner being prepared by his wife, Tara.
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Eric and Tara have been married for 6 years. They married young, still woefully inexperienced in relationships and perhaps a bit naïve about how married life would go. Tara in particular had grown into adulthood in an especially sheltered way. Her family was strict about when and how much she could date, and had made it very clear what the consequences would be if they found out she was experimenting with her sexuality before marriage. This didn't bother her much, as she was comfortable experiencing each new level of an intimate relationship slowly and thoroughly before moving on to the next. This led to her only having one serious boyfriend, and only for a few months, prior to meeting Eric during her freshman year of college. They dated for a couple of years, before ultimately getting married.
Eric was not so reserved, and was eager to experience new sensations and emotions in intimate and sensual settings. He had spent his freshman year of college attending as many parties as he could, with the primary goal of hooking up with a new girl and experiencing what she had to offer. However, when he met Tara during his second year at college, he was so smitten with her shy but undeniable beauty, her kind and thoughtful spirit, and her quiet but sincere laugh that he had no reservations about quitting that lifestyle cold-turkey and buckling in for the long haul. Sure, Tara wasn't as wild in bed (after the painfully long wait Eric endured to even Get to her bed), but Eric figured that there would be plenty of time to ease her into her sexuality and experiment with more ambitious ideas.
However, six years into their marriage, Eric had to admit that things were progressing much more slowly than he had imagined. Their sex life wasn't terrible by any means, but it was mundane and uninspired. Eric longed for the time when each encounter was new and exciting. He had brought his desire up with Tara on multiple occasions, being careful not to seem too pushy or insistent. Tara received such feedback well, and seemed eager to do better and to satisfy her husband's needs, but inevitably her attempts would fizzle out after only a night or two of pushing her boundaries to little effect.
For example, after Eric had cautiously brought up the possibility of anal play, Tara determinedly went to a sex store (though her face was beet red the entire trip), purchased a modest butt plug, and had spent half an hour working it in that same night. Eric was thrilled at the new development, and rushed in to kiss her passionately while his hands explored her body with vigor. But before he could even begin to experience the effect of the plug from his perspective, Tara excused herself to the bathroom and waddled over in a rush to expel the new toy. She sheepishly returned to bed and offered to continue the night having sex in their normal way. Eric gratefully accepted, tenderly handling her while they made love. He was proud of her attempt, but still disappointed at how little came of it. The plug has been sitting in a drawer since that night.
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Eric does not smell dinner as he enters his home. Instead, he practically smacks right into Lilly, Tara's friend, on her way towards the front door. Apologizing politely, Lilly hoists her purse and backs out the door while giving Eric an unusual look that he can't quite place. He stands in the entryway puzzling over the look. The best he can come up with is that she seemed.. mischievous.
Eric and Tara have both known Lilly since college, where she studied law. She and Tara have been close friends ever since, and Lilly visits quite regularly for dinner, small parties, and sometimes just to help Tara out with a home project. However, now that he thinks of it, Eric realizes that Lilly has been at their house every day this week while he was at work, and she has never stayed long enough to chat with Eric himself. Eric finds this to be suspicious, but is entirely clueless as to what it could mean.
Shaking out of it, Eric wanders down the hall to the kitchen, where he sees Tara emerge from the office and head straight to the refrigerator. "Sorry, babe, dinner is going to be a bit late tonight. It'll probably be ready by 7:30," Tara says with a cute, apologetic smile. Eric, helpless as usual against her charm, smiles warmly back and closes in for a quick kiss before heading off to the living room to relax until dinner. While he watches TV and lets his mind wander, it occurs to him that he and Tara have not spent much time together this week. Mostly just dinner and bedtime, really.
Dinner that night is especially quiet, with every conversation fizzling out almost immediately. Eric starts to get concerned that something really IS happening, and that it isn't just in his head. But he doesn't know how to bring it up, and thinks maybe it will be best if he sleeps on it and sees how things are tomorrow. It will be Friday, and perhaps Tara will perk up as the weekend begins.
The next morning Eric wakes up in an otherwise empty bed - another thing that strikes him as unusual but not unheard of. He can smell an especially good breakfast cooking. Simultaneously eager and hesitant, Eric dresses and descends the stairs, where he sees Tara putting on her shoes and a jacket. Eric's brows furrow in confusion - it isn't even 7:00 yet! Very unusual for her to leave the house at this time of morning, since she works from home and few stores are open yet. Her face is flush, and she gives him only a quick glance before turning back to her preparations and saying, "Morning sweetie, breakfast is on the table, I need to run an errand, love you!" Tara is out the door before he can even take a breath to respond in kind.
Eric stands dumbfounded on the bottom stair, and might have been frozen there for quite some time if not for the alluring aroma of a breakfast far too elaborate for a lonely weekday morning before work. He follows his nose into the dining room and seats himself before a magnificent plate of over-easy eggs, sausage links, and buttery toast, accompanied by a steaming cup of coffee already prepared to his liking. "What on Earth is going on?" Eric asks the void as he distractedly begins eating his meal. He takes a sip of coffee, and as he puts it back down on the table, he notices for the first time an envelope next to his plate.
It is a pristine white envelope, the large kind which can hold whole sheets of printer paper without folding them. The face of the envelope is unmarred, save for Eric's own name written in an elegant curly handwriting that he would recognize anywhere.
Eric tentatively picks up the envelope, his mind racing to conceive of what could possibly be inside. None of the most likely scenarios sound good, he worries. Mechanically, he rips the envelope open and pulls out a stack of papers. His feast forgotten, Eric reads.
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Eric. Sweetheart. Love of my life.
