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I told her I only wanted her. Nobody else.
Hannah searched my face for a long moment, and whatever she found there made her eyes go soft and a bit wet. “Okay,” she said. “Okay, love. Then you’ve got me.”
She kissed me, slow and deep, the sort of kiss that came from fourteen years together and still made my toes curl. She stripped me. I stripped her, scrubs and bra and all, and we lay skin to skin in the stripe of morning light. I kissed her long throat and down her body, her small hard nipples, her ribs, and she opened her thighs for me with a happy sigh.
I licked her slowly, patiently, the way I knew she loved, one hand on her hip, the other slipping two fingers inside. She tasted like home. She rocked against my mouth, hands in my hair, and said my name over and over until she came, gasping, thighs tight round my ears.
Then she pulled me up and onto her. I slid inside and she locked her ankles behind me and we made love, looking at each other the whole way through. No rushing. No audience. Just the bed and the quiet and the sound of her breath catching.
“Tom,” she whispered, close, “I love you.”
I came with my forehead against hers.
Afterwards, in the doze, she said, “A bit of me thinks it’s a shame.”
“I know.”
“But I’d still rather have you.”
Through the wall, Jess had put the radio on. Loud. Considerately, awkwardly, hopelessly loud.
Ending 12 of 16: Just You. Go back and try a different choice for the full happy ending.