𝐊𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐀 · "𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐞."
After losing her job and being left at the altar, Dr. Fiona Page is left to pick up the pieces of a "picture perfect" lif...
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CW: Discussions of grief, public sex, beach smut, praise kink, degradation kink, spitting, oral sex, exhibitionism, discussions of fantasies.
This book is already 114k+ words and we're not even halfway through it. Strap in for another long fic, y'all.
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And I love Vermont, but it's the season of the sticks and I Saw your mom she forgot that I existed and It's half my fault, but I just like to play the victim I'll drink alcohol 'til my friends come home for Christmas And I'll dream each night of some version of you That I might not have, but I did not lose Now you're tire tracks and one pair of shoes And I'm split in half, but that'll have to do - Noah Kahan, "Stick Season"
JAMES
January 18, 2023
What was he thinking?
He paced around the kitchen as Fiona got ready in the other room.
This was a date, just like last night was a date.
Two dates in a row. He wasn't even sure how she felt about him, not really anyway. She was hard to read, her expression just as steely as his. He was starting to panic, butterflies swirling in his guts. James stared at his camera as it sat on the kitchen island counter. He wanted to run, just call this date off, drop her off at home, and run. He could move, to another city, sell the house to that John fuckhead and cut ties with everything.
Hypothetically speaking, of course. In reality, he would have to deal with Sam, Steve, Fiona, Kate, and everyone else hounding him and calling him a pussy while simultaneously begging him to come back home.
His throat tightened and he wrung his hands, pacing back and forth as he ran his fingers through his hair and drew in a breath.
There was only one person he could call right now who might be able to talk him through this. James dug his phone out of his pocket and pulled up Natasha's contact information.
I'm going on a date. I think?
James winced, not feeling quite right about texting his ex-wife that he might be going on a date, but she was so supportive the last time they talked. Even if he was being an asshole. He closed his eyes and hit send, and then threw his phone onto the counter and recoiled from it like it was a bomb about to explode.
All he could do was stare at it and wait for it to buzz.
"James?" Fiona asked.
He jumped, his heart thumping against his ribs. There she was, her blonde hair settled into the most beautiful waves that framed her face. She laughed and put her hands up.
