Chapter 6

A couple of weeks after the wedding, I had some more free time coming up during the weekend. Stephen suggested getting away, just the two of us.

I felt like I should refuse, just on principle. It was too much like being a couple, which made it feel like we were actually in a relationship. But, if we weren't in one already, then I was lying to myself. I couldn't call the past two weeks a series of one-night stands.

The biggest appeal for the trip, though, was that we got to go somewhere far away. Someplace where no one knew who we were. I would still know, but I would feel a little less guilty.

So, I agreed to it, and we went to the coast for the weekend. Stephen had a car, so he drove us down. It was a bit of a drive, so we set out early. He booked us into a hotel by the beach, but we barely got to enjoy it. Well, we did enjoy the room at least; we spent almost every moment in bed.

Waking up on Sunday in Stephen's arms was a happy moment, and I sighed as I admitted it to myself. I didn't want to fight what was going on between us. The last of my resistance, on the inside at least, was slowly crumbling away.

Stephen was slowly waking up as well, letting out small sounds as his body shifted beneath me. I didn't have to worry about my weight crushing him; he'd already told me it didn't bother him. His arm around my waist moved, and he rubbed his hand up and down my side. His chest expanded as he took in a deep breath, and my body moved with it. I had my head pillowed on his shoulder with my hand on his chest, and his other hand pressed down on mine, twining my fingers with his.

"Good morning," he murmured, voice still thick from sleep, but happy.

I sighed, giving a long blink before closing my eyes. "'Morning."

"Are you up for breakfast?" He asked.

I thought for a moment, then shook my head. "Let's just stay here for a minute."

This time, I wasn't by myself, but when I didn't have work, I was always lazy during mornings. Especially after the work-out that yesterday was. I had aches all over my body, but it wasn't uncomfortable as long as I didn't move much. A warm shower, or a bath if I could manage it, would ease me right up. But while it sounded tempting, I didn't want to leave Stephen's warm hold, either. Like he knew where to touch, his hand moved to my lower back and started rubbing there. My body relaxed even more against him at the soothing touch.

"Sorry. Was I too rough yesterday?" He asked, sounding a little guilty.

I chuckled. "It's not so much that you were too rough, Stephen. You were too greedy." I wasn't about to say it, but I'd never had sex in so many different places and positions all in one day. "If we could take it easy today, I won't complain."

"Don't worry; we can relax for today. We'll be going back home in the afternoon because there's still work tomorrow."

"Yeah," I breathed out. "I wish we had more time, though."

"We can come back some other time. Or go somewhere else. Or, if you'd like... it would take some planning, but if we had a week free, we could go somewhere really nice? Even outside the country?"

My eyes opened. I'd never been outside of the country, though I had thought it would be nice to travel a little. With my income, I could save up enough to go somewhere in another year or so if I didn't want to end up destitute at the end of the vacation.

I didn't say anything, and Stephen took it as my approval of the idea, lapsing into silence. We were making plans for the future. Instead of feeling apprehension, I was happy. I couldn't wait.

Stephen rolled to his side, tucking my head under his chin, hugging me to his chest. I squirmed a little before settling.

"Hey," he whispered. "What got you into nursing?"

I frowned. This was another thing Stephen did that was new to me. The cuddling, I liked. But when we had moments like this, instead of silence, he liked to talk. I knew he wanted to get to know me so that we could get closer.

"If you don't want to tell me, you don't have to," he said after a few minutes of me not saying anything.

"It wasn't for any big reason," I murmured. "I wanted to be able to hold a stable job anywhere I chose to go, and good nurses are needed anywhere. I don't mind helping people, and I had good grades, so I was able to get a scholarship. It was hard enough getting through high school; I wasn't going to waste my chance."

"You aren't originally from here?"

I shook my head, nuzzling against his chest. "No. Mom and I were originally from North Carolina. I was raised there. I moved down here, found a job, and Mom followed me after she got divorced."

"Do you still talk to your dad?"

"I don't talk to any of Mom's former husbands," I murmured. "I don't remember ever meeting my dad if he even knew about me. Mom married someone else, and I didn't know until years after that he wasn't my birth father. He didn't try to reach out to me after they separated, and I was always closer to Mom anyway, so I didn't bother talking to him, either."

Besides, he might have been there throughout most of my life, but I wouldn't say he raised me. He had always been distant, and he didn't like being around me when he and Mom had arguments, so we were bound to grow distant. It had been years since I even saw him.

When Mom confirmed he wasn't my dad, I wasn't at all surprised.

Stephen hummed. "That's a lot different from my parents. They got married and had me, and separated when I was in college by agreement, but I still talk to Mom now and then. She was a little younger than Dad, and when she remarried, she started another family. I have siblings younger than half my age, and I see them sometimes, but I don't know how to relate to them... her new husband is tolerable, but I wouldn't say we get along."

"Why did you become a doctor?" I asked.

He chuckled. "Of course, because Dad was a doctor. I didn't pay attention to the specifics of his job, but I grew up wanting to be a doctor."

We chatted lightly, not just talking about our families and lives, but about what we wanted. Because I was still feeling drowsy, I blurted out how I didn't want a family, and Stephen was surprised.

"Really?"

I squirmed. "Is it... weird?"

In my mind, I wondered why I felt a little guilty.

He paused for a moment, before answering.

"I was an only child growing up," he said. "My parents weren't neglectful or anything, but I had trouble getting along with people when I was a kid, and I always wanted a big family so I could play with my younger siblings." He sighed. "I mean, I have them now, but I'm a grown up, and they're children. I don't see them that many times a year, I don't even know if they know I'm their brother. It's not too late for me to start now..."

"Why don't we talk about that later?" I blurted out.

Not that I wasn't sympathetic, but I knew where that tone went. If I let him continue, I was sure he would say something along the lines of, it's not too late for you too. I also grew up an only child that had trouble getting along with others, but that just meant more alone time for me, I didn't hate it.

Pushing out of his arms, I shoved lightly on his shoulder until he lay on his back, then climbed on top of him. His cock was half hard, and I trembled a little as I ground my hips against his. Stephen groaned, growing harder beneath me, clasping his hands onto my hips as he rocked up to meet me.

We could both do with one more round to wake us up.

Later that afternoon, we went home. I insisted on him dropping me at my apartment. He let me go so easily because we'd spent the whole weekend together. When I arrived at my apartment building, I checked my mail first, then went up to my apartment. In the pile that was mostly bills for the month, I had a postcard from Mom.

I smiled as I looked at the picture on the front. They were in France, so of course, there was a picture of the Eiffel tower on the front. I turned it around and read the message on the back.

Even though I'd shut down the talk with Stephen, I couldn't help thinking back to it. Though we were close now, I couldn't say I was close with Mom growing up, either. It wasn't until after the divorce when she needed me that we started spending time together, and we grew close. Still, she had her own life to live, her way of living it, and I wasn't one to have many friends.

I knew Mom and Paul were busy doing all sorts of things with their free time. I'd had the emails, the phone calls, and the occasional visits, but this little acknowledgment that I still existed to her while she was busy was special to me.

Since I wasn't close with anyone else, I was closest with Mom. I wanted the kind of relationship with her where we stayed in close contact but while I knew she thought of me, when she was busy doing something, or meeting someone, starting her next relationship, she didn't contact me for a while.

That was how I had the suspicion she'd met someone before she even told me about Paul. Within that period of them getting together, she only sent me a few emails and texts.

Since then, though, we'd had more communication, which wasn't her usual pattern. Like with husband number two, when she was quiet for long periods. She's just always had the tendency to be preoccupied with one thing, but she was changing. Because of my stepfather.

Also, even though I'd only known him for the shortest time, I had to say, he'd been the nicest to me out of all of Mom's husbands, besides making Mom happy, being sure to include me. Beneath Mom's message on the postcard, he'd written something for me, too.

Something told me that wouldn't change once they were back from their honeymoon.

Out of nowhere, I felt such overwhelming guilt that tears started flowing from my eyes as I cried. I couldn't even remember the last time I cried. It was because I knew, if our parents ever found out about this affair, my mom and stepfather would be the most impacted.

It would destroy their relationship, Mom's happiness, them.

Could I still go on with this, knowing the consequences for the people around me? I might be okay with being content, but Mom deserved to be happy, as I was sure did Paul. Stephen needed a woman that would want to make his wishes come true, not someone that was against the picture he was striving toward.

The idea of a big family just wasn't me, so wouldn't everyone be happier if I just removed myself from the equation so they could get on with their lives?