Games

24

epilogue

~One Year Later~

Oliver and I were married in early October, when the leaves had turned colors and began to litter the ground in oranges and dark reds. It was both our favorite time of year, so it was an obvious agreement that that was when it was going to happen. It was simple, nothing too extravagant; neither of us were like that so a simple backyard wedding behind his parents house with only our closest mates was enough.

We moved into a simple flat near the outskirts of London not long after that, ready to make our own lives and names for ourselves. I had finally started college and began preparing for Uni, while Oliver kept his job at the same factory company working late nights, only switching the building he worked at in order to accommodate where we lived and keeping me close to my college.

As for our relationship, it was strong as ever. We were both one year older and had gone through our ups and downs like any normal relationship would. We had dumb arguments that usually ended in laughter or sex - both I was happy with, had nights out, had nights where we stayed in, and nights where we wouldn't sleep at all and do god only knows what.

Not much had changed except maybe the abundance of sex we used to have - it went from almost daily to weekly, to maybe once every two weeks. It wasn't like either of us were bored, but within the last month or two we found it more and more difficult to find time for each other, especially since I had to study more for exams and Oliver's job had him suddenly working from 5pm to 2am. I went to college in the morning, bid him goodbye, and by the time I got home he was getting ready to leave and I had to study. I was in bed by 12am and wasn't awake when he got home.

So it was difficult during the weekdays to be close to one another, and on the weekends we were too blatantly exhausted to do anything other than laze around all day and sleep.

We found the time though, and loved each other either way. Neither of us let the change in our sex life affect our relationship - it wasn't all about sex anyways. Although, I could admit that I missed it sometimes, the ability to be able to do it whenever we could, how ever many times we wanted. I guess we both grew up that way, but it didn't mean that I couldn't at least try to get it like it was. The sex we had now was nothing like it used to be; still amazing, yes, but not as... kinky, I guess you could say.

So yeah, I missed it. And maybe that was partly the reason I stayed up for him tonight, the living room dark and the only light source coming from the television at 1:30 in the morning on a Friday night - or was it Saturday morning? It could also be because I wanted to be awake to greet him when he came home for once. Maybe.

All I knew was that the door to the apartment definitely opened, a thud of a bag falling on the hardwood floor reverberating through the room and Oliver's distinct mumbling making its way into the relatively quiet room. His footsteps came closer and closer until he was standing in the doorway, right in the center where he was staring at me blankly. Something was up.

"What're you doing up Josh?" He asked in a monotone voice, obviously irritated by something.

"I wanted to wait for you," I replied, picking up the remote and muting the television before setting the remote aside and raising an eyebrow at him. "Are you alright?"

"You should get off to bed," he said shortly, then turned to go into the kitchen. Oh. Well this wasn't what I was expecting.

Curious as to what had happened that made his mood downfall, I sat up and walked cautiously into the kitchen to see him seated at the table, a beer in hand. He was staring blankly at the table, one of his hands fisted, white knuckles. He didn't bother to look at me when I walked in, only sighed and gripped the bottle tighter.