Forgiving Love | rewrite

Bang

I eye the doorway, waiting to dash out like I was never here. I know the escape route by heart, but first, I need to gather my clothes and try to recall whether I dropped my handbag at the front door or carried it all the way to the bedroom.

There's also another issue.

I can't hear the steady breaths I've been counting on; I'm not the only one awake. For my escape plan to succeed, I'd prefer to have the possibility to escape.

Is this who I've become?

"If you want to leave, you are free to proceed."

I weigh his words for a minute, but I know my only option is to sigh in defeat and get up. I suppose sneaking out isn't an option, and that's what I tell him.

"One could argue that you don't need to sneak out anymore. We've known each other long enough, to be honest. You want to go, you go." He shrugs, making it sound so simple. I look at him while whisking my blouse from the floor.

"First, you don't know me, and I sure as hell don't know you. We might be comfortable, but we don't know each other," I press, "And second, I didn't ask for your permission."

His kind brown eyes bore into mine with a silent challenge.

"Are we on the same page?" I insist, and he looks away with an eye-roll, stealing my go-to move.

"Yes, yes. How could I disagree, Viv."

"And no nicknames, Leigh. Nothing but bodily pleasures."

"And no nicknames," he adds, a wry smile tugging on his lips at my phrasing. I nod, determined to leave the bedroom, but it all goes down the drain when Leigh throws his blanket aside and manages to catch me in his arms, pulling me into him.

"I should go." My breath turns into a quivering sigh, and the reluctance in my voice is so palpable my cheeks flush. It's nice to be in someone's arms, especially Leigh's. He makes me feel safe in many ways. There's no pressure to start anew or fear he would pine after me.

Leigh nips my shoulder and traces kisses to my crimson cheek. My willpower stops existing when he softly digs his hands into my waist, pulling me to his groin. I nearly crumple against Leigh when he turns my head just enough to kiss the corner of my mouth. Then he releases me like it's nothing and lifts his hands.

"Just bodily pleasures, Vivianne," he repeats as he returns under the covers. Okay, I deserved that.

"Good night, Leigh!" I call out. I don't expect an answer, so I follow the rest of my original plan to exit as discreetly as possible.

I don't know how I ended up in this bodily pleasures relationship with Leigh. Or I do, but I don't know how I'm still in it.

It started about two months ago when I was out with Talia, celebrating my birthday. I might have taken too many margaritas, or maybe it was the shots, but I bumped into Leigh at the pub. We chatted for what felt like the entire night, but no doubt it was just a couple of hours. I had the brilliant idea to come to his place, and one thing led to another. The following morning, we agreed that it was just a one-night stand, but it quickly turned into a two-night stand when we coincidentally met at the grocery store. From there, it escalated.

I know next to nothing about Leigh. We talk, but I avoid any significant topics. It's enough that I know his phone number and name.

We meet once a week when Kara and Aiden aren't with me. Of course, Leigh doesn't even know I have children or that I'm going through a divorce. Or, to be more exact, I'm about to finalize my divorce.