“Not an ounce,” she damn near whispered convincingly.
Zoey sat there contented. Unassuming. She was still feeling that euphoria that she may never live again as she put it at the racing lot. And what the fuck was I doing? Was I regretting extending my euphoria past this week-long vacation? She was unbelievably beautiful and sexy sitting there, enjoying the view. Zoey was young, but strong and secure in her skin. She was bold, fierce, and unpredictable at times, but stable.
I moved quickly and quietly to get my phone. I had to capture that moment. I didn’t know what shit storm was ahead, I needed memorabilia of this stretch in time. I returned to the doorway and snapped a few pix, being sure to get a good one. I wanted to always remember her this peaceful, this happy. With me.
“You have any regrets?” she asked with the back of her head to me.
I shook my head right away and eventually answered, “The best fucking birthday I’ve ever had.”
~Zoey~
The best birth—
I leaped backwards in my seat to ask why he would keep a birthdate from me. However, Stenton was gone. I wondered why he wouldn’t have shared that with me before today. I could have baked him a cake, sang happy birthday or something. That aside, it was clear to me that he if wanted me to make a big to-do over it, he would have shared it in advance. So, I instantly decided to drop it and simply be grateful that it was a great day after all.
That day, Stenton was strange…distant. I don’t know how long he stood behind me before announcing his presence. I came out there to meditate. I’d been having such a great time being crazy that I needed a moment of quiet to collect myself, pray, and reconnect. It balanced me, made me feel safe.
When I felt I had enough and was perhaps being rude, I stood to go back inside. Stenton wasn’t there. He wasn’t in bed either. I was hungry and guessed he was, too. We’d had a bit to drink last night and when we returned from the tattoo parlor, we spent hours making love before showering then crashing into the mattress to sleep. I figured he was probably exhausted from all of that activity. He was in rare form the night before, more vocal with his pleasure, clasping my hips tighter, lying inside me longer, well after our climaxes, withholding nothing. I shook it off as us growing closer in our intimate relationship.
After dressing, I walked out into the living room where I saw him on his laptop with the television going in front of him.
“I’m hungry. I know you must be, too,” I called over to him. “You wanna start breakfast?”
He never looked up at me. Stenton shook his head. “Nah. I’m returning emails, this may take a while.”
“Okay,” I spoke slowly. His response was a bit detached. “Then don’t be mad at my selection,” I teased as I walked away.
Once breakfast was done, I set it up at the dining room table where we’d been eating since we arrived. When I called him in, Stenton said he was still busy with emails and would eat in in the living room. He didn’t even ask me to bring his plate. He came and got it without any eye contact. As I ate at the table alone, I couldn’t shake the cold vibes I’d been picking up. Did I do something wrong last night while drunk? I mean, I was pretty intoxicated, but not past the point of sense. Heck, I woke up hoping the tattoo parlor trip wasn’t just a vivid dream. I was relieved when I saw his initials on the inside of my ring finger. I hadn’t quite worked out what would be my response when people took notice of it, but was ecstatic about my decision and would do it again. My parents killing me be damned.