We didn’t hang out. He didn’t call. I didn’t text. I’d say that I didn’t wait by the phone, but it's the 21st century; it stayed glued to my hand as I doomscrolled Twitter and compared myself to people on Instagram. Was I putting myself in a good place mentally? No. Was I going to do something about that? Also no.

In the spirit of making bad choices while being emotional, I decided to go to Roy’s. Not to get laid. Just to people-watch. But if I watched the right person come and sit next to me? Well, my whole life up to this point had been a series of bad choices and worse consequences. What was one more trip to the well?

Fate intervened. Or rather, Roy did. As soon as I sat down, he said, “Hey, I hate to bug you, hon, but could you go talk to the new kid? She’s having a breakdown in the back corner booth, and that ain’t good for business. I was gonna call her a cab, but you’re here now, so…”

I sighed. “Sure, Roy. Send two Jack and Cokes over.”

Jane was really not doing well. I’d seen it before; spend too much time at a bar, and you’ll see just about everything. But I knew I couldn’t just tell her what was wrong; I needed to let her walk herself there. The specifics mattered much more than the broad strokes.

Softly, just trying to be a comforting presence, I said, “Hey, Jane, what’s going on?”

She sniffled. “I don’t… What the fuck is wrong with me, Sarah? Why- why can’t I… I can’t ever just be fucking happy, and I don’t know why.”

“What happened?”

Our drinks arrived, and I gave her one. She nursed it as she spoke. “I was talking to a guy. He looked good, he was into me, and then- and then I remembered Simon, and I–” She looked away. “I couldn’t. I just…” She started to cry. 

“Jane, hey. Hey, no, it’s going to be okay.” I pulled her in close and hugged her while she sobbed quietly. We stayed like that for a few minutes before she pulled away.

“I loved Simon, you know? But we’d been together since high school. And we got married, and he wanted to have kids and… God, I’m only twenty-three. I don’t want that yet. I will someday, but he just wouldn’t listen. And then… and then I realized he’d stopped listening to me about a lot of things. And I thought, ‘Is this what I want out of the rest of my life? A husband who ignores what I want, kids before I’m twenty-five, having to quit my job to raise them?’ And I decided I didn’t. I asked him to go to counseling, but…” She shook her head.

“And then I was single. I didn’t want to be, not really. I wanted Simon, but I wanted the Simon from before he stopped listening. And I couldn’t get that back. And then…” Her cheeks puffed out as she let out one big, exasperated sigh. “And then I ended up in here, and I realized there was something else I’d been missing. That’s been great most of the time. It’s been a real eye-opener. But I just…” She looked at me. “I miss being loved, you know? Going home to someone? But I also don’t want to… Hell, I don’t know.”

She did know; she just needed to realize she did. “Even with what happened, do you regret Simon? Being with him, I mean? Not marrying and divorcing him, but is your life better because it had him in it at one point?”

Jane nodded slowly. “Yeah. Yeah, there are things I regret, but not… not actually being with him. Not falling in love with him.”

“And then it stopped working. Maybe it could have been fixed, maybe not, but that didn’t happen. But you don’t regret your divorce, right?”

“No. I mean, kind of, but not… He wasn’t going to change, and I couldn’t be who he wanted me to be. Not and be happy, too.”

“Sure, I get that. And if you’ve enjoyed this, sowing your wild oats, getting drunk, and taking a different guy home each night, there’s nothing wrong with that. I had a helluva time after my divorce. But if you’ve stopped enjoying it, then…”

She sighed, “I know, I know. Stop doing this. But then what? Look for another Simon? Or not Simon, but a better guy? That’s why I’m here, Sarah.”

I laughed, but then felt bad about it as Jane frowned. “Oh, sweetheart, you’re not going to find love here. You’re going to find sex and hangovers, and maybe a few friends. But that’s all. Look, you’re pretty, and you’re smart. You’ve got hobbies, right? Things that can get you out and social?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Then go do those. Find someone… find someone who wants to do the same things you do. Other than fucking, I mean, 'cause they’re gonna want to do that, too. Every night you spend here doing something you don’t really want to do anymore on the off chance that it makes you happy is a night you’re not spending somewhere else doing something that you know makes you happy. And maybe you’ll end up meeting someone else who likes it–whatever it is–and also likes you.”

Her expression turned contemplative. “Jane, you know that sometimes, even if you like something, even if you loved it at one point, it’s okay if you don’t love it anymore. And you know what you need to do then, even if it’s scary. You were brave enough to leave and throw yourself into something new once. You’re brave enough to do it again.”

She hugged me, a big bearhug around the neck that left me gasping for air before she relented. Then, with a kiss on the cheek and a hurried goodbye, Jane grabbed her purse and all but ran out of the bar.

I smiled. It felt good to do a good deed. To be Double D one last time.

The old barman eyed me as I approached. “Hey, Roy. I need to close my tab.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What tab?” I opened my mouth to speak, but he said, “See you around sometime, Sarah. But not too soon, okay?”

With a little nod and a melancholic smile, I left Roy’s. It had been such a big part of my life for so long. Too long; I realized that now. Whatever happened with Darius, I needed to move on to the next thing.

Darius. My thoughts kept coming back to him. I knew that I wanted him. I thought I might love him. Even if I did, though, he hadn’t called me in a week. He had things to work through; I understood that. Hell, I’d spent two years working through them, one drink at a time. But I couldn’t wait for him to figure it out. It wasn’t fair to put that pressure on him, and it wasn’t fair to leave myself in a holding pattern on the off chance that maybe I was the thing that finally got him to move on, too.

I had just resolved myself to my new “no pressure, no expectations, no waiting” mindset when he texted.

Can I come over tomorrow? Need to talk.

The next day was the last Sunday of the month. Visiting time with Carla.

Going to be in town?

I wasn’t trying to be a jerk. It was an honest surprise.

Yeah. Went early this week. So, can I come over?

Sure. I bit my lip, thinking, then sent, Free now, if you want.

A little desperate? No, a lot desperate. But there’s no time like the present. If I was going to get my heart broken, I’d rather it be sooner than later. The same if… Well, “no pressure, no expectations, no waiting,” sure. But that didn’t mean good things couldn’t still happen.

Be there in fifteen minutes.

Shit. I was still dressed for the bar, and I smelled like booze and cigarettes. Just enough time to shower and throw on a T-shirt and some shorts. I wasn’t waiting for him, after all. Why wouldn’t I be dressed for bed? I dithered for a while longer, trying to decide if maybe I was being too casual when there was a knock. Ratty sleepwear it was, then.

I opened the door, and I’d be lying if I said that my heart didn’t skip a beat. I’d missed him, and I remembered our second kiss, the one that had hinted at so much more. “Hey, D.”

That smile, my god. The brilliant white teeth, the way his nose crinkled, and the joy that spread slowly across his face. “Hey, Sar. Thanks for… Well, I’m glad you wanted to talk as soon as we could.”

I stepped out of the doorway and motioned for him to enter. “Want something to drink?” He shook his head.

We sat on the couch, and he immediately turned to me. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have just… I needed to work through some things, but I was sure what I wanted ten minutes after I dropped you off. I just needed to…” He sighed. “I went to say goodbye to Carla.”

“What?”

“I know, it’s just…” Darius sighed again. “I know it’s just her stone I’m talking to. But I needed to say goodbye to her. To let her know…” He chuckled. “When I go out there, I talk to her about the important things happening in my life. I realized, last time I went out there, that for the previous couple of months, all I talked about was you.” His gaze slid away from me. “I don’t want to… regardless of what happens between us, I need to move on. You helped me realize that, not by any one thing, but just by being you.” He turned his face back to mine. “But I do want–”

I was kissing him, deeply and passionately, a resumption of the kiss that had been interrupted on our pool not-date. He froze for a moment, then pulled me into his arms, and crushed me to him as my hands roamed his back. I broke away for a second. “Yeah, me too.” And then I was back again, devouring him. His tongue slid into my mouth as his bulge pressed up against me. I groaned as it became harder, pressed against me more insistently.

Gasping for air, I choked out, “Bed’s more comfortable.” It might have been too fast; maybe we should have gone out and had dates and made sure, but we’d already done all that. Our dates had been going on for months. We just didn’t call them that. I knew every name in his family, all his friends, his favorite and least favorite Muppets, all the things you really need to know about someone.

I didn’t even get to stand. He just picked me up in his arms and carried me to my bedroom, pushing the door aside with his hip before unceremoniously dumping me on the bed. I laughed wickedly at this and beckoned him closer, pulling at the waist of his jeans as he approached. His body tumbled onto mine, and we became a mass of frantic limbs, tugging at clothing and working at buttons and zippers, all while trying to stay locked at the lips.

He sat up–when it finally became impossible to progress further without decoupling our mouths–and pulled his shirt off in one quick motion. “Fuck, D, you look so good.” I struggled to undo his belt and zipper, finally rolling him over onto his back and straddling him. He yanked at my sleep shirt, and I obliged him, then let the sports bra follow it to the floor. The look on his face was everything to me: loving, lustful, adoring, tender. Darius leaned up and took one of my nipples in his mouth, sucking and gently biting. I sighed and moaned, then grabbed his shoulders and pushed him back onto the bed. “My turn.”

I grinned down at my… friend? Lover? Boyfriend? We’d figure out labels later. For now, he was the most gorgeous man I’d ever seen, and he was in my bed. 

And he was far too clothed. 

My hands flew as I undid his belt, opened his pants, and tugged at the waistband. I peeled the clothes away from his skin, tugged them off of his legs, and flung them aside, leaving a breathtaking work of art lounging on top of my covers.

He was beautiful. It was beautiful, that gorgeous cock that eclipsed any of the fantasies I’d had. Long. Thick. Uncut. And hard, so hard; it had been almost two years since he’d had any real relief. My hand tentatively reached out, stroking up his thigh and to the shaft, taking it in my hand and squeezing gently. “Sarah…” He softly whispered my name as he watched me. There’s a power in that feeling, in the rapt attention a man gives to someone touching him intimately.

“Shhh, lover. Just enjoy.” I didn’t need that power now, though. I just wanted to make this man– my man–feel loved. Cared for, in a way no one had in a long time. I nuzzled the dark, heavy sac, drawing a gasp from his lips, then kissed and nibbled and licked my way up the shaft, delicate touches with lips and teeth and tongue to excite him. Precum leaked from the slit by then, copious amounts of it. My poor man, I was glad I’d started here. I doubt he’d have lasted long otherwise.

His hips rose off the bed, half-involuntary, as I took that lovely glans in my mouth and began to suck gently at it, tickling the underside with my tongue. Darius was trying to restrain himself; I loved his gentle nature, the way he seemed so tentative to overstep the bounds, first of our friendship and now our burgeoning love. But he didn’t need to be; I was a big girl. His hands were gripping the sheet, trying to control himself. I took one and placed it on my head. “Sarah?” 

My mouth descended down his shaft, taking him as far in as I could, coarse pubic hair tickling my nose. His hand tangled in my hair now, not trying to push me down further, but showing his preferences, guiding, not forcing. Good. Good. We understood each other. This was a gift I’d freely give, and he knew not to take more than what I offered. But I’d offer him almost anything because of that.

I knew he was close before we began, and I wanted it. Wanted to be the first woman to make him cum in years, to feel him throb and thrust, unable to control himself. My head bobbed up and down along his shaft, moving and twisting, tongue giving new sensations with each pass. Both hands gripped my hair now, tugging gently, trying so, so hard not to ask for too much. I rewarded him by giving him everything. “Sarah! God, Sarah, I love– !” My mouth flooded with his cum, a geyser of it, more than I could swallow. I loved it. Loved him; I knew he might regret saying that when he was clear again, but I wouldn’t.

When it was over, when he was gasping and spent, looking at me with both love and fear that, perhaps, he’d overstepped his invitation, I dabbed a bit of his spend from the corner of my mouth and sucked it from my fingers. “You taste so good, D.” Favoring him with a little smirk, I taunted, “So, did you still want to talk?”

He laughed and pulled me up, kissing me deeply, unafraid of his own taste. Then, with a devilish grin, he rolled me onto my back and slid down. “Not ‘talk,’ per se.” His fingers worked at my shorts and underwear, pulling them down my long legs. I kicked them away as he kneeled between my legs, a Cheshire grin plastered across his face.

His head bent low as he kissed my thigh, just above my knee. The skin became gooseflesh, and Darius chuckled, low and almost sinister. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted this?” His kisses moved higher, just below my labia. “How long I’ve wanted to be invited into your bedroom? Into your bed?” They moved past their target and onto my hip, and I whined slightly. He repeated my words back to me, “Shhh, lover. Just enjoy,” leading me to pout and him to laugh in response. Then I felt his hot breath on my mons, and then… and then…

It was indescribable. Every part of my body felt like it was on fire, every nerve ending seared. His mouth was magical, finding the most intimate parts of me and exploring them fully. He was perfect, easily the best I’d ever had. As I came close to orgasm, he would slow down, or move his focus, edging me over and over until I begged for release. His low, evil chuckles became another source of stimulation, the vibration adding an additional dimension to the sensations his tongue and lips provided. He withdrew for just a moment; my breath caught as he said, “I love you, Sarah.” And then he dove in again, masterfully working my clit.

My body tensed, and my voice stilled for agonizing seconds. Then I exploded, moaning and calling his name as I thrashed uncontrollably. His strong hands held me in place as I gripped his head in turn with my own hands and my thighs, pushing him against me, sobbing his name. “Fuck, D! Fuck, I love you! Oh, god, Darius!”

He was masterful, as I said, but also just a touch too greedy. He had me very, very overstimulated after a time. It hadn’t been as long for me as it had been for him, but the anticipation and his skill combined to turn my body into a live wire. I twitched and grunted, finally having to tug on one of his dreads to pull his head up. My handsome lover grinned at me from between my thighs, his lips and chin soaked with my juices. “Too much?” Bastard. He knew what he was doing. I pulled again, and he ascended my body, kissing his way up until he lay next to me. Our lips met, and I tasted myself on his for the first time.

We stole little kisses and lazily stroked each other’s bodies, exploring with fingers now that our needs had been temporarily sated. There would be more, and very soon, but I had so much I wanted to say first. “Did you… I meant what I said. It wasn’t just… I do love you, Darius. I really do.”

He kissed me softly, a gentle, reassuring pressure. “Yes. Yes, every word, Sarah. I love you. I just…” He sighed. “I needed to… I had to square things. I couldn’t be more than friends until I was sure I could be more than friends. Does that make sense? Without… I loved Carla. Love Carla. And you aren’t replacing her, I know. You aren’t trying to. But I had to make sure that I could put my love for her in a place where I could give you the love you deserve. Where you could be first in my heart, even if she was still there, too..”

I stroked his face. “Oh, D. I get it. I do. And…” I looked at his sweet, earnest face. “I… I love that you… You didn’t try to rescue me. Haven’t tried to. But…” I kissed him again. “But you made me feel safe enough to rescue myself. To move on from something that wasn’t working for me anymore.”

We lay quietly, me spooned against his side and his arm around me, just thinking about and being present with each other. And then it came. The intrusive thought that I knew wasn’t going to go away. I tried to. I willed and willed and willed it to get out of my head. Darius felt me tense up and looked down at me. “Sarah?” Then he saw the look on my face and laughed. “Go ahead. I know you want to say it.”

Shamefaced, I muttered, “Cunning linguist.” 

He laughed even harder. “That’s it? Not even going to try for a joke? No Bond girl quips?”

I lightly smacked his chest. “Jerk.”

The handsome devil rolled over on top of me. “Ah, it’s okay. I know you just want the D anyways.” He waggled his eyebrows at me, and I groaned in pain at the horrible pun.

Then I groaned again, eyes closed, as he entered me, his thick cock pushing its way past my lips and inside, stretching me open. “Oh, oh fuck, Darius!” My beautiful man kissed me softly as his length slid into me for the first time; my fingers tensed on his biceps, nails digging into the lovely dark skin. “Oh, god, D! So– so fucking good!” It seemed to go on forever, and then he was inside me, fully inside me.

I looked up into his eyes, those gorgeous, dark, soulful eyes. They searched my expression, making sure that I was happy and not pained. I nodded quickly, and he began to move; it felt sublime. We fit together like two pieces of a puzzle, our bodies entwining together as we made love for the first time. 

His breathing was ragged, and his eyes looked downwards, between us; I could tell he was trying to control himself again, as he had done when I took him in my mouth. “I– oh, god, Sarah, I love you. I–”

I wanted this. Wanted to make love to him. But I wanted it later, not right then. “D!” His eyes snapped back to mine. “I love you. It’s okay, baby. I love you.” Then, with a harder edge, “Now. Fuck. Me.” My legs crossed around, and forced him hard into me. Those dark, soulful eyes burned, a wildfire that wanted to consume the woman who lay beneath him. His hands grabbed mine, pinning them to the mattress.

“F– fucking love you, Sarah!” His words came through gritted teeth as he began to piston in me faster and faster. “Need you. Need this. Needed– oh fuck needed it– for– for so long!” My hips pushed up, granting him access, legs pulling hard as he shoved in, trying to merge our two bodies into one.

I moaned up at him, “Oh god, oh god, D! I fucking love you! Want– ah!” I felt my orgasm coming like a freight train. “Cum– oh, god, Darius, fucking cum with me! Cum in me!” He became rougher, not in a cruel way, but a needful one. His desire wouldn’t allow any gentleness, and I didn’t want any. My body tried to arch off the mattress as I came, but he pinned me to it, pinned me, and claimed me as his own climax took hold. I was filled to overflowing with molten heat, overcome and surrounded by his body, his strength, and his groaning voice.

Afterward, we lay together again, panting, sweaty, and tired, but we both knew we weren’t done yet. Before too long, we began again, and as we made love this time–actually made love–he looked into my eyes with an adoration I’d never experienced before. Richard had never really loved me. My high school boyfriends had only a child’s idea of what love was. But Darius, this beautiful, smart, kind, funny man loved me. Truly loved me. I looked into those eyes as my lover moved in me and saw the words I knew he wanted to speak, but that it was too soon to say. 

I looked into his eyes, and I saw forever.

A year went by, and he put a ring on my finger. Another year and another ring had joined the first, with a matching one for him. Two more years and my belly swelled with our first child, a lovely little boy we’d call Marcus, after his departed father. Marcus was joined by Nicole two years later and Adrian a year after. Our marriage wasn’t perfect; no one's is. But our family was happy and loving, and everything that six-year-old Sarah had wanted. My fairytale might have had some detours, but I did finally get my happily ever after.