29. Rhett #2
I brought out the bruschetta and burrata, and arranged it the best I could because I was no chef, just a basic cook who could feed myself.
I had considered having a server, but that would have taken the intimacy of the moment away.
We were in a secluded area of the park, and the event planner had assured me that we’d be left alone.
How she achieved that, I had no idea, but I did plan to send her a considerable tip as a thank you.
We talked as we ate, the conversation light at first, about work and books. I made a point not to bring up anything too serious unless she did. I didn’t want her to feel like tonight was about her past or her struggles. It was about her, period.
By the time we dug into the pasta, I was happy to note that she’d eaten one whole bruschetta, three bites of burrata with three slices of tomatoes, and now had already taken several forkfuls of pasta and four small sips of wine.
Eventually, I’d have to stop counting how much she ate, but until she was stable, I’d keep track. I didn’t comment on it or make a big deal about it. I just kept talking, keeping the conversation flowing.
Dr. Ryan had told me that it wasn’t like her eating disorder would show up at every meal.
Most of the time, if she weren’t in crisis, she’d eat like an average person.
But no matter how she ate, it was important not to make the food the focal point, so I didn’t.
Instead, I entertained her with stories.
“She didn’t!” Pearl’s eyes sparkled when I told her how Aunt Hattie once tried to bribe a zoning officer with homemade bourbon balls.
“You know she did.” I set my fork down. “And she was successful in getting her way.”
Pearl laughed again, the sound warm and unguarded. I felt like a fucking god for making her happy.
For dessert, I asked the hotel to pack small, petite fruit tarts and tiny chocolate truffles, which wouldn’t feel overwhelming to Pearl.
I reached for one of the tarts and held it up. “To new beginnings.”
She hesitated for a moment before picking up a truffle and gently touching it to mine in a toast. “To new beginnings,” she echoed.
We ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes, the golden light of the setting sun fading into twilight.
“Rhett,” she said suddenly, her voice pulling me from my thoughts.
I looked at her, the seriousness in her eyes catching me off guard. “Yeah, baby?”
“I just….” She hesitated, biting her lower lip before continuing.
“I want you to know how much this means to me. Not just tonight but…everything. You’ve been there for me in ways I didn’t think anyone ever would.
And it’s not just about what you’ve done—it’s how you’ve done it.
You’ve made me feel like…I’m not broken. Like I’m enough.”
Her words meant so much to me that, for a moment, I couldn’t speak.
“You are more than enough,” I finally managed to say. “You’ve always been, Pearl. I saw it back then, even if I didn’t acknowledge it. But now, I see it, and I celebrate it. I see you.”
She looked at me for a long moment, and then she smiled—a real, genuine smile that made my chest ache in the best possible way. Then she gave me more when she whispered, “Rhett, I love you.”
“I’m the luckiest man alive,” I whispered, humbled by her courage, by her ability to forgive me and love me.
We found our way to the blanket, and I turned on the mosquito repellant, which Pearl said showed I was smarter than I looked.
We lay, looking up at the sky, holding hands. The world was quiet around us, and I felt like we were exactly where we were meant to be—together and at peace.
When we went home, we made love, and it was like it was the first time for us together.
It wasn’t that we wanted to pretend the past didn’t happen—but it was necessary to know that the past didn’t affect us, and this was a new beginning for both of us.
We weren’t teenagers any longer. We were new people, better people.
She was already in bed when I got in, slid behind her, and spooned her. We’d become comfortable sleeping together, and I instinctively knew having sex, for us, would be organic.
I turned her onto her back and covered her body with mine. Letting her feel me through my shorts.
She cupped my cheek.
“You okay?” I asked.
“Yes,” she replied confidently.
“Any time you feel?—”
“I won’t. I want you.”
“Thank fuckin’ God, Pearl, because I’m starved for you.”
I kissed her, soft and slow, but it turned demanding because we both needed it, desperately.
“Pearl, darlin’, I need you naked.”
I saw a flicker of worry, and then she nodded as if making a decision. In a way, she was. The last time she’d been naked with me had changed both our lives.
I removed her tank top reverently. Her heart beat fast. Her breathing was choppy. She was aroused; I could see that, but she was also nervous.
I stroked her breasts. “They’re beautiful.”
Her tits were full, smaller than they had been, but then she’d lost so much weight. She was thinner. There were stretch marks over her stomach and hips. Beautiful silver lines that told the story of her courage, how she’d overcome hell.
I suckled a nipple, and she almost came off the bed.
She stroked my back, and I felt the acceptance in her touch.
She was letting me in. She trusted me. This was momentous for both of us.
I never thought I’d be here, in this place with her, ever again, and that the universe had given me this chance filled me with gratitude.
Pearl was my gift, my reward for working to become a better version of myself.
I slid down her body, and she stiffened slightly when I got between her legs. I looked up at her, gauging, waiting to see how she felt. She took a deep, shuddering breath and then smiled at me.
I would continue to seek consent at every step of making love with her—until there would come a day when she would give in because it was natural, and all her fears would be vanquished.
I knew that day would come. It could take time, certainly, but I knew we’d get there because Pearl was the strongest person I knew.
I licked her and groaned at her taste. Perfect. My Pearl was perfect.
She writhed as I suckled her clit, and stroked her G-spot until she was screaming her release. I looked up at her, feeling like a triumphant warrior, and she was the rich spoils of my victory.
I shucked my shorts and looked at her, waiting for her to tell me it was okay for me to come inside of her.
“I have an IUD.”
I nodded, feeling emotion swarm through me and fill me up. Forgiveness never tasted this good, this sweet, this humbling.
“Do you know you’re the most beautiful woman I know?”
She giggled then. It was a full, rich, incredible sound coming from my Pearl, the one who’d had such sadness in her life.
I flipped us, so she was on top of me. She gave me an enquiring look.
“Ride me,” I murmured, giving up all control, asking her to decide how, how much, and when.
She looked down at my cock, precum leaking out of it, and then at me. Slowly, her face lit up with wonder, and I knew this was how we’d make love for the first time this time around, with her taking charge.
She sank down on me, and we both felt it…felt the homecoming.
“Rhett,” she panted.
“Yes.” I couldn’t look away from her. She was everything to me.
“I’m going to fuck you now,” she said cheekily, telling me she was alright, this was what she wanted, this was how it would be—that we’d moved past the past and into the present with a future that was going to shine bright.
I let her set the pace. She was excruciatingly slow, but there was no rush. I wanted to feel and savor—take our time to explore one another, look into each other’s souls, and claim each other.
Pearl leaned back, placed her hands on my upper thighs for balance, and began to rock. She looked powerful as she took me, and I couldn’t do anything but watch her as she accepted her sexuality, her freedom, and me.
She became more vocal when I started playing with her clit, wanting to push her over, see her face when it happened. Her moans were cries now as she began milking me. She slumped on to me, tired, and I held her hips as I slammed up into her, letting go of myself.
“You’re everything,” I whispered as I poured into her.