Love in an Undead Age by A.M. Geever (good non fiction books to read .TXT) 📕

“How the hell did you think it would turn out? Did you really believe that we would just magically get along?” Mario snapped. He pulled his shirt over his head and threw it to the floor.

Emily glared across the bedroom at her husband. “You didn’t even try!”

“That is such bullshit. I lost my temper when she made that crack about the tomatoes. I admit it. What the hell was I supposed to do?”

“Act like a goddamn grown-up,” Emily shouted. “That’s what you were supposed to do!”

“You’re the one who insisted that I be here for your little reunion. ‘It’s been almost five years, Mario. It’s time you two got over yourselves.’ Now we know! Five years wasn’t enough.”

“What did you say to set her off? Why do you have to be like this?”

“You’re not on the receiving end of her relentless disappointment so don’t fucking lecture me,” Mario growled. He turned on his heel to leave, before he said something he would really regret.

“You’re jealous, aren’t you? You saw her with Connor, and you got jealous.”

Her words froze him in place.

It always came back to this.

His anger, and the energy that came with it, abandoned him. Mario felt hollow and exhausted and worse for all the bourbon he had knocked back after locking himself in his study. He turned around to face his wife.

The color drained from Emily’s face. “Oh my God, you are. You’re jealous.” She crumpled onto the bed and began to cry.

Great, fucking great. Way to go, asshole.

Mario walked over and sat next to his wife. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders. She didn’t pull away.

“I don’t know what to tell you,” he said, remembering his first glimpse of Miranda earlier in the day. She had been holding the back door of the Rover open for Delilah, who barreled straight to him. He knew right then he was in trouble because he was so happy to see that damn dog. The memory of surprising Miranda with the half-starved, flea-infested puppy he had found hiding behind a dumpster outside the GeneSys lab had overwhelmed him. Until that moment he had not understood just how much he nursed the futile hope that it might work out for them in the end.

He blew out a deep breath. “I was jealous.”

“I thought our family was important to you. Important enough—” The rest of whatever Emily had been going to say was lost in a frustrated growl.

“You know you and the kids are my first priority.”

It was true. He absolutely meant it. And it had taken every gram of self-control he possessed to not drag Miranda away and tell her everything, consequences be damned.

“I stood by you, Mario,” Emily said, a note of reproach in her voice. “I paid a price too.”

His anger blazed bright once more. Emily had gotten what she wanted in the end, yet thought she was the one who had suffered?

“You haven’t spent the last five years punishing yourself because you loved me and can’t accept what I did.”

Emily’s breath caught in her throat. Her body went rigid before she pulled away. He was never this honest when it came to Miranda. The carefully constructed truce that was their marriage did not allow for it. But this time he couldn’t help it; it just came out.

“I guess I thought after all this time—” Emily started. She stopped and sighed. “I know our marriage doesn’t have everything you want.”

Like love? Mario thought bitterly, but he knew that was unfair. Emily wasn’t the one who had confused the impulse to protect with love. She had been so beautiful and terrified, had needed someone to make her feel safe so badly. No one had twisted his arm to be that person. When Emily realized she was pregnant, there was never a question in his mind about what to do because now she really needed him. The baby would need its father in this dangerous new world. Of course they got married. It had been a no-brainer.

He never saw it coming. He had liked Miranda immediately and God knew she was attractive, but fall in love with her? She wasn’t his type. She was too…much. Too much everything: passionate, open, willing to risk. She overwhelmed him, swamped him, left him floundering for purchase over a high slick abyss. Mario had never bought into that soul mate crap until the day he realized she filled all the hollow spaces in his own. That the vestigial organs of his soul weren’t vestigial at all; they just had not encountered the person they belonged to yet. That was when he finally figured out that Emily needed him, but she didn’t love him, and he didn’t love her, either.

“We’re a good team, Mario.” Emily leaned in and kissed his neck just below his jaw. “And we have the children to think of.”

“I know we do.”

He put his hands on her shoulders to disengage himself. Emily was not who he wanted, today of all days, but she recognized the tactic. She slid off the bed to her knees and began to kiss him just above the waistband of his boxer shorts.

“Emily, don’t—”

But she was already rubbing him through the thin fabric, her warm hand encircling his stiffening cock.

“Stop it,” he said as he started to stand.

She let go then, but only so she could pull his boxers down far enough to take him in her mouth.

He gasped, unable to push her away now and hating himself for it, but his longing, jealousy, and anger ignited. He thrust against the motion of her mouth, keeping hold of her head to control the pace. He knew he pushed too hard and far, but he couldn’t stop, couldn’t slow down. He came with a gasp, buried deep in Emily’s throat.

Mario slumped back on the bed, filled with self-loathing. What the hell was he doing? Emily crawled on top of him. She pulled her nightgown over her head. Even after three children, her figure was svelte, her breasts small and firm. He reached for them with his hands and mouth, kneading their softness and sucking the pebble-hard nipples.

Emily pushed him back, her blond hair encircling them in a golden web. “It was such a long time ago. I can make you happy if you let me.”

She leaned in to kiss him, her lips hungrily pressing against his. Mario ran his hand through his wife’s soft hair. He shut his eyes and tried to pretend, if only for a moment, that she was Miranda.