My lips touch his again and it's a lot more rough. I know we both need this, we both crave the others touch. It's intoxicating. He pushes the straps of my dress down to my hips and he reaches out and palms my breasts in both his hands.
A small moan...
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Jacob's parents came to visit. My boyfriend stood at the door for a moment, taking them in before stepping forward and wrapping his arms around them both. His mother clung to him, whispering his name through quiet sobs.
She had visited him during his time at rehab, but I don't think she ever believed he'd get better. Not until now, at least. Jacob's father squeezed his shoulder firmly, silent but acknowledging in his presence.
We all sat together in the living room, the atmosphere thick with unspoken words. I let the three of them talk for a while- about his recovery, about everything and nothing. And then Jacob brought up what he'd been suppressing and drowning in for years.
"I've always felt guilty." He admitted, his voice strained and his face solemn. "About Aiden. About everything."
His mother tensed, already knowing that she practically blamed Jacob and I for Aiden's death already, and she contributed with the blame that Jacob held on his shoulders all by himself. "Jacob..." she sniffled.
"I know you blamed us." Jacob continued, his voice shaking slightly as he glanced up at me. I gave him a soft smile, nodding at him in assurance. "And maybe you were right. Maybe I could've done something different- being a better brother to Aiden and being more aware of the signs. But I've carried that guilt every single day."
A long silence stretched between them before Jacob's mother exhaled shakily, nodding her head. "I was wrong to blame you both." She admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I was angry and I was hurt. But you were, too. I see that now."
Jacob's eyes burned with emotion, and he nodded slowly, processing her words. His father placed a steady hand in his back, a silent offering of support.
I sat beside them, spectating quietly, my heart swelling at the sight of Jacob mending the bridge that had been burned for so long. He was healing, piece by piece, and as much as this moment belonged to him and his family, I felt the warmth of it wrap around me, too.
"He was always so full of life." Jacob's dad smiled sadly. "Even when things were hard."
Jacob let out a shaky breath. "I remember when we were kids, Aiden was terrified of thunder and lightening. He used to sneak into my bed, bury himself under my blankets, and make me tell him stories until he fell asleep." Jacob smiled, a single tear slipping down his cheek.
His mother's lips quivered. "He used to sing in the car with me. At the top of his lungs, even when he didn't know the words. He'd said it was his way of keeping me close when he thought I was going to leave."
We spent the evening sharing stories, laughing through tears, remembering Aiden in our own ways. Jacob leaned into me, his warmth steady. I pressed a soft kiss to his temple, grounding him in that moment.
