March 14th

He did it.

Bryan finally quit that job in London, just walked out, no notice, no warning, nothing. I was furious. The panic hit before the coffee even brewed. How could he do something like that without telling me?

But then I saw his face.

Calm. Lighter somehow, as if a weight had lifted. He said only, “It was time.”

I wanted to scream at him. Instead, I nodded and prayed he knew what he was doing.

March 22nd

This morning, Bryan woke with a mischievous energy. He got up with the kids and instructed me not to leave the bed until he returned from the school run. Boy, was I glad I listened to his request.

When he came back, he burst into the bedroom, already stripping off his clothes, to find me lying naked on the sheets, propped against the pillows, legs spread, with clear evidence of my impatience showing on my swollen outer lips. He dived headfirst between my thighs and ate me for breakfast before tossing me onto my stomach and, before I’d even regained my breath from the star-studded climax I’d just had, taking me roughly from behind.

Something about this morning was different, though at the time I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. Instead, I put my finger on my clit and accepted the punishment my pussy was taking, soon followed by the load he released into me as we both came together.

Pulling on his trousers, he told me to get dressed and get in the car. “Time for some real breakfast, and then a quick ten minute drive,” he said.

After a lovely breakfast at our friends’ diner, we took a short drive down the back lanes and soon found ourselves pulling through big cast-iron gates into the most stunning country estate—rolling hills, stables, tall trees, and a grand old house perched on the hill, looking as though it belonged in Downton Abbey.

As we walked around, people darted to and fro, smiling at us and stopping to introduce themselves—always referring to Bryan as sir and saying how they couldn’t wait to see him again soon before moving on. By the third encounter, I couldn’t take it anymore and demanded an answer about what was going on.

When he told me he’d taken the estate manager job, I cried. Right there in front of the old lime-washed stables with their black oak beams, like a fool. Ten minutes from home. Better hours. A better life.

I didn’t say it then, but something inside me softened. I think I fell a little bit in love with him all over again.

April 2nd

Bryan’s home every evening now.

He does the school runs, makes packed lunches, and has even started cooking dinner on my late shifts. The house feels different—lighter, calmer. I come home to laughter instead of silence.

He’s out working on the estate most days. His skin is darker from the sun, his shoulders broader again. The office weight is gone, replaced by something rugged and familiar—the man I first fell for in uniform.

He moves differently now, even with the prosthetic. Confident. Balanced. Proud.

And I find myself watching him the way I used to, noticing the small things—his voice when he reads to the kids, the way he leans against the counter while watching me cook, the warmth in his smile when I walk into the room.

I have to admit it’s ignited something between us. I catch myself glancing at him with a familiar ache, my heartbeat quickening as desire stirs down below.

April 18th

Something has shifted between us.

We’re laughing again, real laughter. The kind that leaves you breathless. Sometimes he catches my hand while we’re doing the dishes, and for a moment the world feels like it did before London.

I realised tonight just how much his presence soothes me. Knowing he’s home, that I’m not carrying everything on my own, it’s changed me too. I’m sleeping better. Smiling more. Maybe even glowing, if the girls at work are to be believed.

When he kissed me goodnight just now, I felt that spark again, the one that had been quiet for far too long.

The second his warm lips pressed against mine, my body reacted instantly. Before I knew it, my hand was woven into his hair, pulling him closer as our tongues fought for dominance. As his hand slid beneath my oversized top, my nipples stiffened at the first brush of his skin. Moments later, I could feel the warmth of my sex building between my thighs as I rolled onto him, savouring the sensation of his rock-hard cock pressed snugly against my pussy.

May 3rd

He sent me a photo this afternoon—a silly one, covered in dust and smiling, with a pile of firewood behind him and a caption: “Building up the winter stockpile, love. See you soon.”

I couldn’t stop looking at it.

That strength, that steadiness—it’s back. And knowing how happy he is makes me want to show him how much I see it, how much I see him.

May 6th

Today I finished work early and decided to surprise him.

The estate was quiet when I arrived, driving slowly up the rear driveway, the soft hum of bees, the clatter of hooves on cobblestones, and the smell of fresh grass. I followed the sound of a chainsaw to the old grain barn and stopped at the entrance.

There he was. Stacking wood in the late afternoon light, his shirt clinging to him, muscles shifting with every movement. I watched him for a while, taking in the view, before he noticed me.

When he did, that smile, warm, slow, knowing, spread across his face.

“Didn’t expect visitors,” he said, brushing sawdust from his hands.

“I couldn’t resist,” I told him, stepping closer. “And I’m glad I came along,” I added, returning the smile.

He reached for me, and when his arms wrapped around me, it felt like everything just fell away. From the moment his lips met mine, the world outside the barn ceased to exist.

My hands snaked up his back and into his hair as he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me hard against him. I felt one hand slip south, forcefully grasping my arse cheek, drawing a moan from my mouth as a fire erupted between my thighs.

I pushed him away, breaking the kiss. “Where can a girl go for a quick fuck around here?” I asked, a devilish smile playing on my lips.

Clutching my hand, he led me out of the barn and around the corner to the back of the indoor riding school. He slid open the door to reveal floor-to-ceiling bays of hay.

“Will a roll in the hay work?” he said with a smirk.

Letting go of his hand, I stepped inside. As I walked toward the wall of hay, I hiked up my dress and pushed down my now-drenched panties. Jumping up onto a small bale, I said, “Only one way to find out,” as I spread my legs so he could see the glistening folds of my aroused sex, beckoning him forward.

He was hungry for it. Grasping me behind the knees, he tilted me back and dived between my thighs to feast on me. His tongue probed my depths as my left hand gripped his hair and my right worked my engorged clit in a frenzy. My muscles began to spasm just as I felt him pull away. Whimpering in disappointment, I was quickly silenced when he effortlessly slid two fingers into my swollen, dripping hole, hammering them into me and raking against my G-spot with every movement.

The bales of hay swallowed the sound of my moans as that familiar feeling built in the pit of my stomach. My muscles began to tremble as the peak of bliss approached, and Bryan pushed down onto my pelvis with his free hand. The added pressure doubled the pleasure. My head dropped back, my scream catching in my throat as squirt after squirt of hot nectar shot from me. Bryan withdrew his hand and, to my surprise, slapped my gushing, pulsing pussy several times, sending wave after wave of climactic bliss through my nerves and forcing even more from me.

Before I could recover, I felt it, that painful, delicious stretch of being filled completely without warning. In my near-unconscious haze, Bryan had dropped his trousers and sunk all eight inches of his hard cock into my quivering, ruined hole, fucking the sense out of me.

With one leg on his shoulder and the other pushed aside, it felt like he was in my stomach with each animalistic thrust. His balls slapped against my glistening arsehole as our combined moans filled the barn.

He grew harder inside me, and I knew it wouldn’t be long. Honestly, it had been so long I was surprised he hadn’t blown on entry. I gazed up at him, biting my lip as my forefinger found my still-sensitive clit.

“Cum for me,” I gasped. “Claim my pussy.”

I began to shake as my orgasm surged, and he read my body like his favourite book, increasing the force of his thrusts. The moment the fire in my stomach met the depth of his throbbing cock, we exploded.

I clamped around him like a velvet vice as he twitched violently inside me, emptying what felt like gallons of his hot seed into my ruined hole.

Time froze in pure bliss. At some point, he stumbled back and slid from me, leaving me gaping and oozing a heady mix of our juices. I slid from the now-misshapen bale and walked to another. Squatting beside it, I forced out several thick globs from deep inside me. Standing again, I walked back toward Bryan, picked up my panties, and wiped myself clean before pressing them into his hand.

“You can keep them,” I told him.

The look of shock on his face was comical.

“What?” he said.

“I can’t exactly do the school run leaking like this, can I?”

I gave him a peck on the cheek and left as quickly as I’d arrived.

May 7th

I woke this morning still able to smell the hay and sawdust on my skin, the warmth of his embrace lingering between my thighs.

My brain and body refused to function correctly long after I left the barn. Despite my best efforts, I oozed on the drive home, and my dress clung to me with a tell-tale wet patch—but I didn’t care too much.

When Bryan got home last night, we didn’t need words; we just needed to be in each other’s company. The house seemed complete again, and I felt whole for the first time in a long time.

I think that’s what love becomes after life tests you.

Bryan is home now, and I have an urge….