The weeks after the wedding settled into something Ethan hadn't dared hope for. She'd taken two weeks off of work, a simple honeymoon consisting of a happy couple in their small apartment and a few day trips to the Nevada desert. For those fourteen days, it was just them, enclosed in their own private world.
They laughed over burnt pancakes in the kitchen as Mia wielded a spatula with surprising ineptitude, the smell of scorched batter filling their tiny kitchen. They lay across their sagging couch for hours on end, the old springs protesting beneath them, bingeing old sci-fi flicks and cheesy sitcoms. They fucked like newlyweds should, hungry and insatiable, tangled in sheets for hours, the mattress creaking rhythmically beneath them as dawn peeked through the blinds.
He'd regained some stamina, surprising even himself, his body remembering how to fuck like an animal as her gasps and moans urged him on. His confidence grew with each encounter, her responses to his touch reassuring him that he could satisfy her completely. When she clutched at his back, nails digging into his skin, whispering his name like a prayer, he felt whole again, powerful, needed.
One afternoon, she'd shoved him against the kitchen counter, dropping to her knees and taking him in her mouth with an eagerness that made his head spin. Her tongue swirled around his dick with practiced skill, her eyes looking up at him with that mischievous grin that wrecked him. The sensation of her warm, wet mouth enveloping him, combined with the visual of her on her knees, hair falling around her face, was almost too much to bear. He let out a grunt that seemed to echo in the small kitchen and shot down her throat, his knees nearly buckling from the intensity. She grinned up at him before swallowing the whole load with an exaggerated gulp that made his spent cock twitch.
Another night, she'd pinned him to the bed, thighs clamping his hips with shocking strength, the weight of her body a delicious pressure on his pelvis. Her pussy was slick and hot as she rode him hard, controlling the pace and depth completely. The bedside lamp cast shadows across her body as she moved, highlighting the curves of her breasts, the arch of her back, the taut line of her throat as she threw her head back in pleasure. She'd arched her back at a particularly deep thrust, her entire body tensing as waves of pleasure visibly rippled through her, her scream filling the apartment so loudly he was certain the neighbors must have heard.
During those two blissful weeks, he'd occasionally slip when he had moments alone. Her errands or long showers would find him watching some of his favorite recordings, like they were some private amateur porn site rather than security footage of his wife. He justified it to himself in various ways, that it was harmless now that they were married, that it was just memories of a phase they'd moved past, that it was better than seeking out other porn. By their honeymoon's end, he'd managed to delete it for what he'd thought was the last time, feeling a sense of closure as he watched the app uninstall.
They hiked Red Rock one weekend, a dusty Saturday where the sun baked the earth into cracked plates beneath their boots. She wore a faded tank top that showed off her tanned shoulders and denim shorts that hugged her curves as they climbed the winding trail. Sweat gathered at her temples and the small of her back, giving her skin a glow in the harsh sunlight.
She giggled at his clumsy footing as he navigated a particularly steep section. "Careful, city boy," she'd teased, her voice bright against the dry wind that whipped her ponytail around. At the peak, they stood side by side in comfortable silence, shoulders touching, the vast sprawl of Vegas shimmering below like a mirage. For a moment, the world was theirs.
The sex was constant and energetic, a reclamation of what he had lost during their "pact". One night she walked right from the shower to straddle him on the couch, barely having dried off yet, water droplets still clinging to her skin. Her hair dripped onto his chest as she lowered herself onto him. The cushions creaked loudly beneath them, keeping time with their movements as she rode him hard, her hands braced on his shoulders for leverage. They both came, thrusting and grinding, awash in pleasure, falling asleep in that position shortly after, her body a comforting weight on his.
For two weeks, it worked. The bubble they'd created seemed impenetrable. He could almost convince himself the wedding night, the emergency blowjobs at the chapel, the hotel gangbang, was all part of some awful fever dream, a glitch in a parallel universe, not theirs.
Her return to work hung over his head like a dark cloud. When they weren't fucking, he'd keep himself busy with design gigs he'd picked up, glued to his laptop screen late into the night until his eyes burned and his back ached. The work was a welcome distraction from the thoughts that threatened to consume him.
When it was time for her to go back, reality came crashing back into his life. He let work become his shield, a wall of focus he built to bury the dread creeping up his spine. He swore he wouldn't check the app or wouldn't ask how she spent her days, repeating the promise to himself as he buried himself in Photoshop layers and client feedback. She'd leave for work with a "Love you, see you tonight!" thrown over her shoulder, and for a brief moment, Ethan could convince himself she was starting a day at the office like any normal person.
After settling back into a routine, she came home earlier than normal one night. Her face was tight, her hands twisting together nervously in that way she had when she was anxious about something. She sat down on the coffee table across from Ethan as he watched some videos about ancient architecture.
"Sooo," she began, drawing out the word, "don't freak out, okay? There's some news... sorta, bad... news." Her voice had that forced casual tone that immediately set him on edge.
He leaned forward, the laptop forgotten beside him. "What happened?"
"Well, nothing happened, it's just..." She sighed, glancing away, unable to meet his eyes directly. "They're worried at work. Celeste pulled me aside for a talk." She fidgeted with the hem of her shirt.
"Worried about what?" he asked as anxiety consumed his whole body in an instant.
