The Five Stages of Falling in Love

His body covered mine and his mouth began to taste all of the skin he had never had access to before. The little bits of clothing we still had on disappeared and our hands began to explore places we had managed to avoid until now.

 

He asked me once more if I was ready for this and when I agreed, he pulled a condom from the bedside drawer and put it on. I marveled at his body while I waited, taking in the rippling muscle of his abs and chest, the powerful strength of his thighs, resting on his heels. I watched as he crawled back over me and tried to breathe through new fear.

 

He leaned forward and kissed my hip. I jerked, shaken by his touch, but he was not deterred. He kept kissing me, across my belly and over my breasts, up the line of my throat until he finally landed on my lips. There he took my mouth leisurely, seductively and when he pressed against my core, it felt only natural.

 

Ben pushed inside of me and I felt bursts of pleasure dance through me. We moved together, learning each other, knowing each other in a way that I had never thought to know another man.

 

He took his time, both desperate and relaxed, both lost and found. I let him carry me away. I let him erase all of my doubts and fears and grief and anything else that stood between us. I let him help me realize exactly how I felt for him, without anything else clouding my thoughts.

 

When it was over, he rolled next to me and gathered me in his arms. He held me there with a sweetness that moved me. For three minutes, I simply lay there, completely absorbed and abandoned to him.

 

His fingers rubbed a lazy path along my spine and the scruff of his chin tickled my forehead. Neither of us spoke. I couldn’t find adequate words to describe my feelings and I had no idea what Ben was thinking.

 

But then that started me thinking. And the more I thought the faster my mind spun. The haze of lust and fulfillment fell away and I was left only with the reality of what I had done.

 

I had just slept with another man.

 

I had sex with another man.

 

A man that was not Grady.

 

The sob hiccupped in my chest before I could stop it. The grief crashed around me again as I reeled from the consequences of my actions. I grasped for sanity and stable ground but I could not find any.

 

“Liz?” Ben sounded concerned and I couldn’t blame him.

 

I launched myself from the bed and raced for his en suite bathroom. I barely made it to the toilet before I heaved up all of my dinner and my regret.

 

I stayed there for endless minutes, crying hysterically as my body physically reacted to what I had just done and the commitment we had made.

 

Ben followed right after me and stayed there with me. His gentle fingers held back my hair and his soothing words helped ease the crippling pain of my betrayal.

 

After a long time, I collapsed onto the floor. He did not hesitate to pull me into his arms again and hold me against his chest.

 

I didn’t deserve his kindness or his understanding, but without it I was positive I would have broken into a thousand jagged pieces. I would have been truly broken, permanently shattered.

 

We sat there for so long that my arm fell asleep and I ran out of tears. Ben had put on his briefs before he came in after me and covered me with his robe that hung next to his shower.

 

His thoughtfulness opened up new wounds inside of me and when I finally spoke, my voice was filled with raw honesty.

 

I had come to terms with who I was now tonight. And I had also admitted the reality that Grady was gone forever. That he would never come back. And that in some ways, I had moved on.

 

But that I was not healed.

 

I had ruined something beautiful between Ben and me, something that should have been sacred and protected. I couldn’t help how I reacted or how I had behaved since then, but there was one simple thing I could do to salvage this night.

 

I could tell Ben the truth.

 

With my head against his chest and my fingers curled over his heart, I whispered, “Ben, I love you too.”

 

He held me tighter, crushing me against his warm body. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to say anything. I knew how he felt and now he knew, good or bad, how I felt.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Five

 

 

Eventually Ben and I left the bathroom floor. I grabbed my overnight bag so I could brush my teeth and wash my face. Then I pulled on some new underwear and a cami. I brought pajama pants, but they seemed a little pointless. Ben stood in the doorframe, leaning against the door, watching me.

 

“Is this interesting?” I asked around a mouthful of toothpaste.

 

“I like this, Liz. I like being domesticated with you.”

 

I dropped my gaze to his sink and focused on finishing the job I started.

 

I crawled beneath his comforter and snuggled into one of his pillows. His bed was better than mine, and not just because it was absent of Grady’s ghost.

 

Ben curled behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist, holding me impossibly tight to his warm chest. I expected my mind to race with the events of the night, of sleeping with Ben, of betraying Grady, of saying I love you to a man that was not nor would ever be my husband.

 

But Ben’s even breathing and protective touch lulled me into a cozy place that was absent of haunting husbands and sweet regrets.

 

“I would apologize for puking after sex,” I teased, “but I bet that happens to you a lot.”

 

I felt his body still, surprised by my joke. “You think you’re clever.”

 

I looked at him over my shoulder and through mussed strands of hair, “I know I’m clever.”

 

I squealed when he started tickling me. How was that a fair response! I jerked and struggled to get away from his torturing, but it was no use. I flopped to my back and he pinned me down by straddling my waist. I was laughing so hard I wasn’t making any sound.

 

“Stop!” I gasped, bucking against him. Stop!” I tried to pinch his nipple in retaliation, but he caught my hand and pinned it to the pillow beneath my head.

 

His nose ran a slow trail over mine. He stopped tickling me in favor of running his free hand over my side, across my stomach and along the curve of my breast.

 

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