Reassignment

Roy stood there for a long second, unable to move.

Tabitha was still on her knees, looking up at him with a soft, satisfied smile that made his chest feel tight. Her face, her beautiful face, was painted with his sperm. Roy could not believe what he'd just done. What they'd just done. His pulse thundered in his ears as sensation ebbed, leaving him shaky and exposed in a way he had never experienced before.

"Thank you," he said finally, the words coming out rough, breathless. It wasn't eloquent, nor was it verbose, but he was unsure what the proper response to the experience he'd just had would be.

She smiled wider, as if the gratitude itself pleased her.

"Thank you right back," she said, warm and easy. "If this is a preview of how much fun you want to have at the cabin, I think we're in for a good weekend."

He looked down at her and tried to smile, but the expression felt fragile on his face. Something in her gaze sparked, a hunger mixed with affection, and it unsettled him how much he wanted to stay right there in it.

Then practicality broke through.

"Now someone's eventually going to start asking questions about us being in here," she said, matter-of-fact again. "Why don't you head out and grab a snack and a drink while I clean up." She paused, then smirked. "Unless you want me to walk out like this."

His stomach did a summersault at the thought.

"No," he said quickly. "No, I'll go."

He fumbled with his clothes, hands clumsy, heart still racing, then thanked her again before slipping out into the hallway like a man escaping a crime scene.

The air outside the washroom felt cooler, thinner. Roy leaned briefly against the wall, eyes closed, forcing himself to breathe. His reflection stared back at him from the glass of a freezer door across the aisle, flushed and wide-eyed. He looked guilty. He looked... changed.

A cough made him open his eyes.

The clerk stood behind the counter, a pimply teenage boy with too much hair gel and a knowing look and a 'thumbs-up' that made Roy's stomach sink. The boy wasn't confused. He wasn't suspicious. He was impressed.

Roy straightened, heat creeping up his neck.

He wandered toward the coolers, pretending to browse. His hand reached automatically for a blue Gatorade, fingers cold against the plastic. He grabbed a chocolate bar too, without thinking. A guilty pleasure. He had always had a sweet tooth. You didn't get a body like his by pretending celery was enough.

As he stood there, staring at shelves of snacks he didn't need, the reality of what he'd done began to settle in.

It was wrong. He knew that. Deep down, past the thrill and the disbelief and the warmth that still lingered in his chest, he knew it was wrong.

And yet...

He couldn't honestly say he wouldn't do it again.

Tabitha had been in control. She had started it. She had guided everything, confident and certain, as if this were the most natural thing in the world. He had followed. Reacted. Let himself be carried along.

Finished it, a quieter voice in his head supplied, and he flinched at the thought.

He brought the items to the counter and paid quickly, avoiding the clerk's eyes. The boy glanced past him, then grinned.

Roy turned just in time to see Tabitha come out of the back.

Her face was clean now. Hair slightly damp at the temples. No makeup, no artifice. Somehow, she looked even more beautiful like this. Relaxed. Real.

She didn't say a word as she passed him. Just reached out and gave his backside a light, playful smack on her way through the door.

The clerk's grin widened.

Roy swallowed and followed her outside.

The sun was brighter than he expected. The air smelled of trees and fuel and summer heat. A minivan was parked at the far pump, a woman filling it up. She wore sweatpants and a hoodie despite the warmth, brown hair threaded with grey pulled back in a loose ponytail. She looked tired. Kind. Beautiful in a quiet, unassuming way.

As Roy stepped off the curb, the hairs on his arms stood up.

Just for a second.

The world seemed to tilt, like a skipped frame in a film.

He turned toward Tabitha.

She was at the car, pulling his bag from the back seat. She walked past him without looking at him, crossed the short distance to the minivan, and handed the bag to the woman at the pump. The woman smiled at her, said something Roy couldn't hear.

Then Tabitha climbed into her Subaru.

The engine started. The car rolled forward.

"Tabitha?" Roy called, panic flooding his voice.

She didn't turn her head.

The Subaru drove down the road, around the bend, and out of sight, as if she had never been there at all.

Roy stood frozen, heart hammering, the space beside him suddenly hollow.

Behind him, the woman with the minivan closed her gas cap and turned toward him.

"Honey," she said, smiling warmly, "are you ready to go?"