𝘈𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘱𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘫𝘶𝘯𝘬, I thought to myself as I unlocked the front door whilst flipping through the mail. The lock clicked and rolled in a familiar sound that never ceased to remind me I was home. As I walked into the foyer, laying down my jacket and the mail on a nearby chair, Maddox called to me from the kitchen.
"Is that you, babe?" his voice shouted through the hall as though muffled by something in his mouth.
"No, it is indeed not your babe, but instead a well adjusted mother of four named Patrice." I deadpanned as I crossed the threshold into the kitchen.
My husband of four years stood by the sink, stirring a heap of cookie dough of which he helped himself to a few bites. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘺𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘶𝘧𝘧𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 , I thought. After putting down the cookie dough, he turned around and swaggered toward me, his face creeping into a slow smile.
"Well Patrice, how lovely it is to see you. Are you peckish? I've got a chicken on and I'd love to hear all about your crotch goblins of four."
I smiled in return and leaned my much smaller, thinner body into his muscled, tall frame. Days like this made me thankful of how comforting our height difference is. I raised on to my tippy toes and brought my mouth to his. His lips slowly wrapped around mine and soon the only thoughts left in my stressed out mind were how quickly it would take to get his body into mine.
I reluctantly pulled away from the kiss and snuck my arms back around his bulging chest. Maddox was a firefighter for our local volunteer department and he never missed a day at the gym. I sighed and laid my head against his pecs as he reached up to brush my hair back from my face.
"Hey baby boy, how was work today? Or are we still pretending to be Patrice? Because I can roll with that," he teased at me while still brushing through my hair.
I leaned back and playfully smacked his chest.
"No, it's just me, plain ole Rylan. And work was stressful. No different than the usual."
While my husband was saving lives and rescuing kittens, my time at work was spent counting beans at an accounting firm. I don't mind being an accountant most of the time but lately my boss has been breathing down my neck over the smallest, uncontrollable things. Stressful days like today have come more frequently than ever before.
