Back On Track

The next few weeks aren’t perfect, but they’re better.

It starts small, him brushing past you in the kitchen and actually resting a hand on your hip again. You are leaning into his side on the sofa, not flinching away. Little things you’d stopped noticing you missed.

The arguments don’t vanish overnight, but they don’t flare up as quickly either. You’re both catching yourselves before words turn sharp.

And then one Saturday morning, you wake to find his arm heavy around your waist, his breath warm against your neck, his hips already pressing into you. It’s tentative, almost shy at first, but when you turn towards him, it feels like slipping back into something familiar — something you’d thought might be gone.

After that, the sex starts to creep back in. At first, it’s comfort sex, soft, slow, more about closeness than heat. But the more you touch, the more you feel that edge returning, the one you’d been avoiding since that morning at the kitchen table.

Then one night, after the kids are asleep and the house is quiet, you lie together in bed, half-watching some programme neither of you is really following. His hand is on your thigh, idly tracing the shape of it under your pyjama bottoms.

You turn your head to look at him, heart tapping faster.

“Can I… test something?” you ask softly.

He glances at you, a little smile tugging at his mouth. “Test what?”

You roll onto your side to face him fully. “What you said before. About… if it’s in my head, you’d rather experience it with me.”

His eyes sharpen slightly, but he doesn’t pull back. “Alright.”

You take a breath. “What if I told you… I’ve been picturing it again? Just to see how it feels when I tell you now.”

He studies your face for a long moment, then his fingers tighten slightly on your thigh. “And?”

You let your gaze drop to his mouth. “It’s different. It doesn’t feel… sneaky. Feels like you’re part of it.”

He shifts closer, the air between you warmer now. “Good. Because if you’re going to think about it, I want to be right here. I want to hear it while you do.”

Your stomach flips, part nerves, part excitement. You rest your hand on his chest, feeling the steady thud of his heart under your palm. “So… you want me to tell you?”

His voice is low now. “Yeah, Em. Tell me.”