Birthday Girl

I want a life I never want to take a vacation from. That’s my goal.

“Now I’m simply terrified for every woman I see you with,” I continue, “but also secretly smiling, because I know after they fake how much they love your cock in bed, they’re in the bathroom, fingering themselves to a mental image of any guy in town who’s not you.”

Happy wife, happy…

I watch him pull out a box and carry it away, the pulse in my neck suddenly throbbing.

He thinks she’s my wife?

A smile pulls at the corner of my mouth, and I’m not exactly sure which emotion is filling my chest right now, but it feels good and there’s a lot of it

“It’s the little things that add personality to a house,” she tells me. “An artsy chandelier, the right rug, and backsplash.” She turns the sheet around, facing me and showing me. “This is you. It would look great with what you’ve done in the kitchen.”

“You were still everywhere. The container of cookies in the fridge, the backsplash you picked out, the way you put all my pictures back in the wrong spot after you dusted my bookshelves.” He smiles to himself. “But I couldn’t rearrange them, because you were the last to touch them, and I wanted everything the way you had it.”

We need lies to survive sometimes, because the truth hurts too much.

I don’t care about the wedding. I just want the life.

She wants a home. She wants people to love

Doing what you could to make me happy, no matter the sacrifice, never seemed like a tough decision for you.”

We don’t need food to survive this life as much as we need our hearts broken at least once. But the best part is, the first break is always the worst. It’ll never feel this bad again.”

Don’t think about the other women,” he tells me. “I don’t.”