Ladies and Gentlemen, I have my husband back.
Sexier than ever.
See, I told you: death brings people together. Saturday night, he got home late from his shift to find a steaming hot dinner, a loving and patient wife, a foot of rope, some rubber gloves, and a few knives.
What more could a man want?
We ate, we got caught up on our everyday lives; it was all very amicable. He’s been taking a lot of shifts and working closely with a few more prominent colleagues in addition to taking his usual calls (domestic disturbances, damaged property claims, all that good stuff). Apparently, he’s thinking about taking his detective’s exam. It’s going to take a lot of work and it’s obviously not a guarantee but it’s something. It’s a step forward.
Later on in the evening, James confessed that he’d done some thinking while we were separated. He wants to be more consistently present for Jason and he wants to move forward with his life. I support him 100%. Having more connections, having more consistency – having more money – it’d be really convenient. Not to mention it would make him happy. And I want him happy. Almost more than I want myself safe.
So, after dinner, we packed up the supplies and jumped in the car. We drove around for about half an hour before he parked the car in front of some random elementary school and took a leisurely stroll. It was mercifully cool – not fucking freezing cold like it usually is this time of year – so we ended up walking for two hours.
We continued to talk and laugh. It felt good. Really good. Holding hands, stealing kisses, watching the snow fall. I felt like a kid again – or at least a kid in a really sweet romance novel.
You know those moments that just feel unreal – almost magical? You want to freeze that feeling, keep it bubbling in your chest for as long as possible, being able to look back on it and just smile.
Walking arm in arm down the snowy sidewalk. Seeing a woman trying desperately to start her car and offering to help. Sneaking behind her while my husband distracted her. Stabbing her in the neck and ducking behind the blood splatter. Watching her stumble down the street grasping at the air, unable to cry out. Letting her fall in the road while blood flows onto the clean white snow. Kissing my husband while our victim takes her last breath.
Maybe it’s the Christmas spirit seeping into my subconscious, I don’t know. But whatever got into me, it has made me sappy as fuck.
But you know what?
I had a great night.
I had a really good kill, I reconnected with my husband, and we had fantastic sex against the washing machine while our outer clothes were cleansed of evidence.
It was like when we first started dating.
It was really nice and I have just been floating on a cloud ever since this weekend.
I’m in a good place right now and…I’m satisfied.
As always, dear readers,