It's wrong to cheat, were the words that rang through her mind. But the cause of these thoughts was just the paranoia. Betrayal insisted that there was somebody on the bad end that she once loved and trusted. Sarah wasn't betraying anybody. She was chasing a man who actually cared for her, held her close, kissed her and wanted to keep her close.
She sat at the end of his bed, the sheets draped over at the interaction they had the night before. An interaction that was fresh in her mind. It was a slow process, eventually building up a heat so hot it burned her flesh, creating an blinding desire that haunted her bones. It only pleasured her more when he took her down with him onto the bed, chest to chest, soft touches and quiet coos into each other's ears.
It was an exciting experience. A life she thought she would've had.
It was the fall of 2032, thoughts of her schooling, Henrik, and her children on her mind. Sarah was constantly juggling everything she ever said. It was only there did she have time to think.
Henrik's mattress sunk with her weight, the sounds of his nightly routine echoing out of the bathroom in his apartment. There was the sound of bottles and small objects jingling around on the sink counter, the water running once before turning off. Sometimes, he'd stay in there longer, the water running longer after it turned off and on once.
There was so much she had learned in the few months they were together. Like how Henrik liked to put her first in everything they did together. She'd walk in front, she'd order first, sit down in his car first. Henrik was the gentleman she dreamed of in the middle of her marriage, which she decided was the least of her worries.
He was a neat man, always making sure things were kept in containers, something she learned he picked up from his mother, who sounded like the cleanest woman in the household. She had to be to survive in a household with 8 guys.
Sarah remembered the time she noticed how deeply Henrik still cared, even after just reconnecting with her months before. Maybe it was the way he was raised, primarily by his mother, that made him care. She recalled the heaviness of binders and papers in her arms, the memory of the fuzzy words in her mind. Sarah was walking, a straight shot down the hallway, blind to whoever was walking in front of her. A corner came, and Henrik collided with her instantly.
Sarah fell, dropping the things in her arms, her loose clothing on her shoulders dropping to reveal her flesh. A deep ache radiated from her core, a groan escaping her as she rubbed her back. Henrik was still standing, though he had stumbled back, fixing his reading glasses before he quickly began helping her gather her things. He was apologizing, repeating his words quickly as he shook his head, his English broken up with small curses in German. Henrik swept Sarah's papers up before glancing at her. Perhaps it was the way she was slow to get up that sparked his initial interest, but she knew it was the discoloration of her skin that finally raised alarm in him.
Shit-! Did I do that? Sarah was quick to shake her head, stuttering over her words as she tried to think of an excuse. The large black bruise was right on her collarbone, creeping up to the base of her neck.
N-no. I'm clumsy and bruise like a peach. Sarah reassured him, but she could tell Henrik didn't believe her. Instead of a look of skepticism, it was worry. His eyes glanced back down to her skin, watching as she quickly covered it up. Henrik was slow, watching her keenly, inspecting how she acted as she quickly walked away.
It would only be a couple months when Henrik would propose an idea to her that spiraled into this relationship she was considering inhabiting forever. The only thing restricting her were her kids back at home with her husband.
Now, as she sat on the bed, her eyes began to wander. His apartment was clean and full with pictures of his family. To her confusion, none of his brothers evenly remotely resembled any similarity to him. At first, she thought it was his mother doing deeds behind his father's back, but Henrik only chuckled gently and told her the truth; he was adopted.
YOU ARE READING
The Grean Household
Storie d'amore"It was a mistake..." She told her mother, folding her hands into each other. "Marrying him..." Her mother said nothing, she simply sat there as her only daughter stood across from her, on the verge of collapsing from bruised ribs and cracked shins...
