The Womanizer's Mute Wife-Chapter 266: Side story - 2

GENESIS

"Yeah, go ahead," Zarina said, wiping her hands on her apron with a grin. "We’ll close up. Go get your little monsters."

I looked between them, Cady already stacking the last trays, Zarina double-checking the register and shook my head, throat suddenly tight.

"What am I going to do without you guys?" I said softly.

Cady rolled her eyes, but her smile was warm. "You’ll survive. You’ve survived worse than us closing shop by ourselves."

Zarina walked over and pulled me into a one handed hug. "You’re not abandoning us. You’re just being a mom. We’ve got this."

I hugged her back, then reached for Cady. She squeezed me tight before letting go.

"See you tomorrow,"

"Come early this timd," Zarina called after me. "Or we’re eating your share of tomorrow’s test batch."

I laughed, waved once more, and stepped out into the late-afternoon sun.

I slid into the car, started the engine, and the radio came on mid-song ,Vanessa Carlton, that old, nostalgic one.

I turned it up.

The windows were already down.

I sang along as I pulled out of the parking lot, voice cracking on the high notes, smiling like an idiot.

Making my way downtown

Walking fast

Faces pass

And I’m homebound

The wind whipped through my hair.

If I could fall into the sky

Do you think time would pass me by?

Cause you know I’d walk a thousand miles

If I could just see you tonight...

I belted the famous lines louder than I should have, windows open, heart wide open too, feeling every word like it had been written for this exact moment in my life.

The school gates came into view too soon.

I parked, grabbed my phone, and walked toward the pickup area.

Mitchell spotted me first, all long limbs and a big grin. He waved goodbye to his little group of friends and ran over, backpack bouncing.

"Aunt Gen!"

I crouched and caught him in a hug. "Hey, handsome. Good day?"

"The best!" he declared, already climbing into my arms.

Then the twins, Dash walking calmly, Izzy sprinting ahead full speed.

"Mommy!"

They crashed into my legs and I kissed both their heads.

Daisy came last, taller every week, walking with a group of other teens. She was blushing, laughing at something one of the boys said. When she saw me she waved them off and jogged over.

We all piled into the car, Mitchell and the twins in their booster seats in the back, Daisy up front with me.

The drive home was loud.

Izzy told me every detail of her art drawing. Dash quietly corrected her exaggerations. Mitchell sang a song he’d learned. Daisy talked about some boy in her class who "isn’t even that cute, Lily, stop smiling like that."

I laughed the whole way.

When we got home they scattered immediately, each running to their room to drop backpacks and shoes (I had a strict "no scattered things" rule, and they mostly followed it now).

I went straight to the kitchen.

Lunch was simple: grilled cheese, apple slices, carrot sticks, orange juice. They ate at the table, booster seats still in place for the twins, Mitchell proudly using a regular chair now.

After lunch came homework.

Daisy at the kitchen island with her math.

The twins on the rug with coloring books.

Mitchell at the table with me, practicing his letters.

Hours passed in that gentle, exhausting rhythm.

By late afternoon they were all quiet, playing, napping, and reading.

I slipped into my study.

The room was small, sunny, and mine.

A desk. A laptop. A stack of notebooks. Melissa’s old planner she’d given me when I finally sat for my high school equivalency exams two years ago. I’d passed barely but I passed. I had my certificate framed on the wall now, right next to a photo of the twins on their first birthday.

I sat down, adjusted my glasses, opened the document titled

Silent No More

The memoir was only a few pages long so far.

I stared at the blinking cursor and stared at the words.

Silence wasn’t quiet.

It was a room with no doors.

It was the sound of my own heartbeat counting seconds I couldn’t speak into.

It was waking up every morning already tired from holding my breath.

It was learning to disappear inside my skin so no one would notice the girl who used to laugh too loud.

It was safe.

It was small.

It was all I had left when the world decided I wasn’t allowed to be loud anymore.

I paused.

My fingers hovered.

I thought about the twins napping down the hall.

About Kieran coming home tonight, kissing my forehead, asking how my writing went.

About the bakery, the laughter, the smell of fresh bread.

About how far I’d come from that little girl who believed her own voice was a weapon.

I smiled, a little teary, and kept typing.

I didn’t even know when I’d fallen asleep until I felt soft lips brush my forehead... then the bridge of my nose... then each eyelid.

I stirred and opened my eyes.

I wasn’t at my desk anymore.

I was cradled in strong arms, his arms, my head tucked under his chin, body curled against his broad, warm chest.

"Baby," I groaned, voice thick with sleep, "you’re home."

He pressed another kiss to my temple.

"I’m home."

I looked up at him owlishly. He was still in his suit shirt, top two buttons undone, sleeves rolled to the elbows, revealing those strong, veiny forearms that always made my stomach flip even after all these years. His jaw was shadowed with stubble, eyes tired but warm, hair slightly mussed like he’d run his hands through it too many times today.

"What time is it?" I asked, rubbing my face against his neck like a cat claiming territory.

"Around ten," he murmured, voice low and rough from the day. "I’m sorry I’m late. Got tied up in some boring assdinner meeting that should’ve been an email."

I reached up, fingertips brushing the rough stubble on his cheek.

"You look exhausted," I whispered, thumb tracing the line of his jaw.

He leaned into my touch, eyes fluttering half-closed.

"Do you know what will revive me, Mrs. Blackwood?"

I tilted my head, a teasing smile curving my lips.

"What?" I asked, voice soft and knowing.

He smiled, that dangerous little tilt that still made my pulse jump.

"A bath. With you. No clothes. No interruptions. Just hot water, your skin against mine, and maybe my mouth on every inch of you until neither of us remembers what day it is."

I laughed, the sound breathy, and already melting.

"You’re impossible."

"I’m tired," he corrected, nuzzling my neck. "And I missed you. Let me have you in the jacuzzi. Please."

How could I say no to that?

I wrapped my arms around his neck.

"Take me upstairs, Mr. Blackwood."

He carried up, through the hallway, past the kids’ closed doors, blessed silence from their, up the stairs, straight into our bedroom.

The jacuzzi tub was already filling when we got there, steam rising, low lights on, the faint scent of lavender and eucalyptus curling through the air. He’d started it before waking me. Of course he had.

He set me on the counter gently, hands sliding to my hips.

"Arms up," he murmured.

I lifted them. He peeled my shirt off quickly, so impatient. My bra next. Then he knelt, kissed the soft swell of my stomach still faintly lined from carrying the twins before tugging my leggings and underwear down in one smooth motion.

I watched him undress next, his shirt buttons, belt, slacks, briefs, every movement fascinating, tired muscles shifting under skin I knew by heart.

When he was bare he stepped between my legs, hands framing my face.

"You’re so beautiful," he whispered, like it was a secret he still couldn’t believe.

I pulled him into a kiss, tasting the day on him: Alcohol, stress, and love.....yes love, I can taste that, sue me.

He lifted me again, stepped into the tub, and sank us both into the hot water.

Steam rose around us.

I settled against his chest, back to his front, his arms wrapping around me like armor.

For a minute we just breathed, water lapping around us, hearts syncing.

Then his hands started moving.

Slowly and exploratory.

Over my collarbone, down my arms, across my stomach.

He kissed the side of my neck.

"Missed this," he murmured against my skin. "Missed you."

I arched into his touch.

"Missed you more."

His fingers slid lower, teasing between my thighs.

When he found me, of course already slick, and aching, I gasped.

He circled my clit slowly, teasing.

"Tell me what you want," he whispered in my ear.

"You," I breathed. "Just you."

He lifted me slightly, positioned his cock at my entrance, and sank in, slowly, deep, both of us groaning at the stretch, the heat, the perfect fit.

We moved together, lazy, unhurried, water rippling around us.

No rush.

No words.

Just skin on skin.

Breath on breath.

Love so thick it felt like drowning in the best way.