Chapter Text
Erwin Smith is always busy.
Of course he is, he runs his own company.
You knew just how dedicated of a person he was when you started dating towards the end of your undergraduate years, as he was wrapping up his own graduate studies.
On your first date, he spent hours describing his ideas, answering all your questions as you were fascinated by his brilliant and voracious mind, eager to dig in its crevices. His ambition effortlessly lured you in, and you’ve been unable to take your gaze away from his bewitching blues that dreamed of a better world ever since.
Likewise, he couldn’t tear himself away from your compelling energy and found himself naturally drawn to you, despite everything that competed for his attention.
After you both graduated, he poured every waking hour into his startup. You dutifully stayed by his side while you progressed through your own career, having no problem paying most of the bills and taking on more of your shared expenses.
Erwin was always so grateful, whispering sweet words of appreciation into your ears, driving himself passionately into you nearly every night.
You two were happy.
You believed in his dreams and didn’t mind sharing your modest one-bedroom apartment because you were both pursuing what you wanted. The wedding was small, inviting only your close family and friends, and the two of you danced and embraced the night away, holding onto each other tightly ever since.
“I love you,” he would often hum into your ear, weaving his strong limbs warmly around your torso, draping his leg over yours, kissing the nape of your neck.
No matter how exhausted Erwin was, he always found the energy to express that to you. You loved the warmth and security his affection always brings.
“I love you more,” you would nuzzle back, breathing in his scent and tracing all the familiar edges of his body with the rest of your senses.
Then, one day, one of Erwin’s investors decided to go all-in on his start-up after he presented his prototype. The investor believed that Erwin’s product would change the entire game.
And it did.
It felt like Erwin’s company tripled, no, quadrupled overnight. Within a year, he secured the funds he needed to bring all his part-time staff into fully funded positions, signed a building lease, and expanded his operations.
It’s everything Erwin ever wanted. You were thrilled.
You both celebrated, and got so wasted with your friends, you barely recalled getting home, only remembering the way your slick bodies sought each other out, mingling your pleasures as you reached euphoria together.
But the hasty growth came at a cost and Erwin had to start traveling for work. He left rather frequently.
Thus, he started to spend fewer nights at home.
Inevitably, Erwin’s time away drew the beginnings of a wedge between you two. You brushed off the nagging feeling, choosing to believe that this wasn’t anything that your marriage couldn’t withstand.
Or so you thought.
Around the same time Erwin started traveling, a new neighbor moved in.
Whose presence eventually shakes things up.
The neighbor who moved in across the hall a few months ago is a man of many mysteries.
You haven’t interacted yet, but it’s difficult not to notice what goes on around his apartment.
The quiet gated condominium community that you and Erwin live in carries a standoffish atmosphere. In your multiple years there, you still barely know who you share your hallways with.
The new tenant is inevitably an avid lover, with you catching glimpses of several incredibly attractive men and women who would leave late in the morning, when you went on your lunch runs. A luxury that you get to partake in as you have the privilege of working from home. (The flexibility of a work/life balance, not you sneaking glances at your neighbor’s latest conquests).
One day, you came back from a longer run, exhausted and in serious need of a hot shower that scrubbed you to the bone. You trek down the long, immaculate corridor decorated with oversized, absurd paintings which barely pass as art, and blinding yellow flowers intended to create a more luxurious atmosphere (though you're openly impartial to how bougie your complex is. Erwin insisted that you deserve the best, as indicated by your mortgage).
To your annoyance, your bluetooth headphones had exhausted its charge mid-way through your run, so you hang them limply in your hand, uselessly swaying them back and forth as you traverse the empty hallway.
As you approach your home, your ears pick up upset yelling from your neighbor’s condo.
Just steps away from your entrance, a raging younger man storms out of said neighbor’s door, spewing curses and sloppily pulling on his dark green army jacket in the middle of the hallway.
The suitor the gentleman brought over clearly was not happy.
You peek at the open entrance and out strolls a slightly older, gorgeous man. He sports clipped blonde hair that connects to a well-groomed full, blonde beard, which frames his face quite nicely. He hosts paralyzingly light grey eyes,, and you can practically see the charisma drip right off his sculpted body. (It’s no wonder all his visitors looked like they walked right off the runway.)
The man lazily tails after his guest in dark sweatpants - shirtless, mind you - and the two effectively block your path to your own door.
You press your lips together tightly, senses on high alert as you keep yourself a short distance away from the situation on hand.
“Was this really nothing more for you?" the younger man tests hotly.
He’s met with a resounding sigh that bellows throughout the hallway.
"Porco baby, I was very clear there wasn't anything here from the start. I’m sorry that this got misconstrued,” the taller man says, reaching a hand over to touch the other. Evidently, his partial nudeness does nothing to sway his confidence.
The younger man scoffs, swatting the unwanted hand away.
"Fucking rich assholes. No fucking heart," he sneers, glaring daggers upwards at the man, clenching his jaw that could cut diamonds.
Another full sigh echos down the corridor.
"I'll double the amount for your trouble today," your neighbor says, signs of agitation starting to form on his face.
"Eat shit Zeke." Porco flips him off with both hands, and the devastatingly handsome man storms off, ignoring your presence entirely when he bypasses you.
A third exhale erupts as the man named Zeke brings one of his arms up to remove his small, circular glasses and rubs tight circles around his eyes with the other.
Zeke then looks up and catches your eye, aiming a low glower at you, to which you fluster, feeling like you did something wrong in witnessing such an intimate conversation.
"I didn't hear anything," you quickly say in your defense, putting your hands over your ears. The edges of your headphones touch your head. You had almost forgotten about them. You make a show of placing the headpiece back onto your ears, insinuating privacy.
Zeke appears slightly off guard, not expecting anyone else around to witness the confrontation.
Then, he takes in your thoughtful gesture.
And he laughs. Deeply and heartily. The edges of his eyes crinkle, starting to show off the tiny web of crows feet that decorate the shapes of his eyes delicately.
The sound elicits a tiny grin on your own mouth. You pull down the headphones, determining you didn’t need to keep up such a facetious gesture.
"Thank you," your neighbor says, coming down from his laughter, running a hand through his short hair. "I needed that."
"I'm obviously Zeke by the way," the man introduces himself, like he wasn't just cursed at moments before.
You swiftly introduce yourself as well. "Pleasure. You moved in recently?" you ask, relieved he’s in a better mood, although you already know the answer.
“Yes,” he said, walking back to his open door to lean against it as he talks with you. “You been here long?”
Strolling up to your own, you pause before reaching for your key, curiosity still piqued towards the mysterious man.
“Long enough to know not much trouble happens in these halls,” you tease, amusement dancing in your tone.
“Oh well, sorry for disturbing the peace around here,” Zeke reflects your energy right back, crossing his arms, pushing his pectoral muscles into a better view. You train your eyes on his chiseled face instead.
“It’ll make for good conversation for me and my husband later,” you say with a grin, mentally applauding yourself for not wavering your gaze.
Zeke quirks an eyebrow and a slow smirk. “Yeah? How would you tell it?”
Something about his tone almost sent a shiver through your spine. You’re probably just getting cold from the prior sweat from your run, now that you’ve cooled down.
“Just that I witnessed a solicitation gone sour,” you shrug nonchalantly, as if residents here hired people for those kinds of favors all the time. They probably did. “Non-judgmentally of course,” you add in, hoping you didn’t offend.
“You didn’t indicate a descriptor, but I prefer the label ‘bored trust fund baby’,” Zeke says, with no trace of shame in his words, bringing up a hand to mockingly quote his words.
Ah, the prior interaction made more sense to you now.
“Or sugar daddy.” Again. No shame in his words. Instead, his icy orbs rack your face for a reaction.
You nod a little abashedly, unsure how to respond, especially under his intense stare. Frankly this is your first time meeting someone of those statuses and you’re surprised by how relatively normal Zeke seems so far. You always assumed sugar daddies were old, rich, grimey men.
Zeke notices your pause in contemplation and continues, secretly finding amusement in your conversation.
“For the courtesy of the community, I’ll be more selective with my clients,” he says, words clearly sarcastic.
“There’s no such thing here, do whatever you want,” you wave away the unnecessary, not giving a damn about the overly stringent HOA guidelines that are only enforced by residents ratting each other out.
“Well, sorry you had to see that,” he says with emphasis, tilting his head towards you. He didn’t sound very sorry.
“No need. Like I said, it makes for good conversation,” you play off casually, a little unsure how you feel about directing the handsome man’s attention.
Zeke grins at you, a delightful smile that drags the corners of his face symmetrically.
Your skin suddenly starts to heat.
“Nice to meet you trust fund baby,” you say to the man who is clearly older than you, finally turning around to dig for your key in your pocket.
“You as well." He adds in your name in slowly.
Like he's savoring it in his mouth.
Just when Erwin was home for a couple days, he had to go again.
“I’ll see you in three short weeks, darling. Be good for me,” Erwin says, engulfing you in his sturdy arms, planting a smoldering kiss on your lips, nuzzling your cheeks with his own. The gelled strands of his soft, blonde locks tickle your forehead.
“Hurry home hubby,” you coo as you return his affection, pressing yourself back into him.
As you wave farewell, your heart breaks a little more, watching him leave for his longest trip yet.
So you dive deeply into your work, accruing an alarming amount of overtime throughout the next three weeks. You just needed that time to churn by faster.
The little blue reminder on your phone’s calendar rang charmingly the morning of his return. Each subsequent melodic note fed into your giddiness, growing the bubble of anticipation inside you that was begging to burst.
Right as you silenced your alarm, you receive a dreaded text from Erwin, stating regretfully that he was going to be gone for another week.
Your demeanor instantly sulks, stomach sinking with disappointment, rereading the words, hoping you misread them the first four times.
This hasn’t happened before. Usually when Erwin says he’s only gone for a specified period of time, he returns within that frame.
You hoped that this was an odd occurrence, and that Erwin would be back on his regular schedule soon so you can spend much needed time together.
It took you way longer to realize that was merely wishful thinking on your end.
When Erwin returned home, he apologized profusely.
“Sorry babe, we’re currently going through growing pains,” he kisses your forehead, wrapping his large hands around your chin tenderly. “I promise I’ll return to us soon.”
“Okay,” you say, fighting down your frown, instead focusing on wrapping yourself tightly around him in forgiveness. He soaks it all in, appreciating your patience.
You spend the rest of the night exchanging stories, eager to catch up with the other.
Erwin details the frustrating roadblocks he has with his clients while you stroke his soft, flaxen hair, tsking your tongue alongside his words.
“He sounds like a moron,” you chortle softly, to which Erwin agrees. “ Speaking of morons, Hange adopted yet another rescue dog this month.”
Erwin’s laughter rumbles and you feel the vibrations of his mirth deep in your own belly. “Does that make, what, six now? I’m sure Levi is thrilled.”
“He absolutely is not,” you grin. “Your bestie called me again this week, bitching about how much shit he has to pick up.”
“I’ll make sure to check in on him,” Erwin smiles at the image of a peeved Levi crossing his mind, feeling only slightly guilty for ignoring his messages that relay the same grievances. What little free time he has now is entirely focused on you. “How’s work?”
You roll your eyes and immediately launch into complaints about your least favorite coworker who only makes your life more difficult. In between the spaces of your rant, Erwin sprinkles in his own commentary that makes you giggle.
You pause and your eyes soften when you see how hard he tries to keep his weary eyelids pried open during your conversation.
“Shall we head to bed?” you ask though it’s not really a suggestion, already taking his hand in yours, tugging him towards that direction.
Your partner smirks, allowing himself to be dragged along, and he eyes you with the lust swirling in his dazzling orbs.
“Sure, but we’re not sleeping much tonight,” he says devilishly, reaching to grab your heating body.
“Er-Erwin,” you gasp. As you melt into his touch, a protest still tumbles out of your lips, “Your flight is so early tomorrow.” You’re not pleased that despite it being the weekend, he still has to fly out.
“Then there’s no need for me to sleep at all,” he whispers into your ear, tugging your shirt off.
As promised, he keeps you up nearly all night, coaxing as many breathtaking climaxes out of you as he can, smirking against your humming core when your movements become less coordinated, exhaustion wearing itself on your face that still desires him. He relentlessly makes sure you feel loved.
Of course, the next morning Erwin is utterly exhausted. You felt horribly guilty.
He doesn’t mind though. His conscience wouldn’t let him rest until he felt like he made it up to you last night.
Besides, there’s so little leeway available with the demands of his job, he’ll happily sacrifice his own sleep and health if that means more time with you.
But the unreasonable compromising makes you sad, seeing him risk himself like this for you, and you silently wonder how sustainable this all is.
A couple months fly by, and your time together is starting to feel more like a dream.
The two of you have gotten comfortable with staying up way too late, tussling together in your sheets, giggling as if you’re drunk on the other’s essence. Yet, when the sun rises, the shared warmth dissipates almost instantly, as if you greedily drank him in too fast.
Although you’re happy to spend any time with him, more than anything, you just wanted some return to normalcy.
It’s becoming harder and harder for you to hide away the pain on your face each time you trail after Erwin’s footsteps that carry him away from your door and down the hall, off to his next destination.
You wished you could travel with him, but logistically, his schedule was too disruptive for your workflow. Unfortunately, your boss wasn’t happy with the results when you were given the chance to try. When you fell behind on your deadlines for the third time, you were issued a warning and ordered to return to work at your station.
Erwin felt incredibly guilty for the sacrifices you were continuing to make on his behalf. He wrapped his fingers around your sullen face and kissed the edges of your pout away.
“Just a little bit longer, darling,” he says, blessing your name with his sweet, velvet tongue.
So you continue to wait.
You tell yourself that you both just have to persevere and it’ll be okay in the end.
Yet, the loneliness still wears itself relentlessly in your furrowed eyebrows and in the tiny twist of a frown on your lips.
And Zeke notices.
It’s not difficult to pick up when he peers through his peephole, silently watching your slowly unravelling relationship.
Gears churn in his head as he witnesses another encounter that leaves you feeling more cold.
Around the time when Erwin stayed gone for much longer, you find yourself running into Zeke alone more in the hallways.
It wasn’t often enough to raise questions in your mind. Besides, he was always so friendly, you were honestly happy to find familiarity in this too-uptight complex.
As the time progressed, you didn’t find any suspicion in your continued crossings with your neighbor, who conveniently has yet to intercept paths with your husband.
Zeke slowly began infiltrating your routine, so subtly, it seemed almost natural.
And then, you make your first mistake.
“Good morning," your name rings pleasantly behind you.
Turning, you finish locking your front door as you address your neighbor in surprise.
“Good morning Zeke. You’re up early,” you comment, briefly looking at your phone to check the time.
“Is 11am considered early now?” he chuckles with a mischievous smirk.
“For you, yes,” you remark in the same playful tone.
You shouldn’t have let Zeke get comfortable with saying good morning to you most mornings, gradually wearing down your guard around him.
Your phone flashes and you promptly unlock it.
It was just a notification to upgrade one of your apps. Swiping towards your messages, you check uselessly for any incoming mail. You find none.
Even though it’s what you have come to expect, you stare at your phone anyways, your pointer finger automatically clicking away at your latest tasks on your laptop. Work is mindless today, filled with typical reports and the sort that don’t require too much brainpower.
Unfortunately, that has opened up your bandwidth to miss Erwin again.
He’s not home for his birthday.
Even though he never cared for it, he always loved seeing how excited you were to plan his celebration with your friends and loved ones. You regrettably canceled your get together and apologized on both of your behalf.
When you told Erwin you took care of the arrangements, he tacked on an apologetic little gif that made your heart warm. Regardless, you still sigh as you scroll through your conversation, rereading his words.
Will Erwin continue missing important dates like this?
You tap your mouse along, chewing on your bottom lip. An email flashes on your screen, requesting yet another, repetitive data request for your work, despite sending one earlier this week. Rolling your eyes, you add the task to your list to handle later.
It’s still hard to focus on your work, despite the little attention it requires today.
Your eyes trail towards the center table of your living room, that hosts a small gift bag that contains Erwin’s wrapped gift. You were really hoping he would be able to open it on his birthday. Sentiments aside, you know he’ll eventually unwrap it and smile his charm your way.
Still, you craved those moments together.
Your muscles suddenly ached to run.
Pushing yourself away from your computer, you decide to take your lunch break early and change into your workout gear. A quick glance at the light drizzle outside your window prompted you to pull on your bright rain jacket. You lace up your shoes, pop on your headphones, fasten your hood, and turn your volume all the way up.
Anything to drown out your racing thoughts.
You skip over another puddle, one in a series of many that litter the uneven pavements. You’re careful to avoid the splashes from cars that bypass you without a care for the consequences of driving in a city that drains so poorly.
Your legs mindlessly sprint towards your usual destination, and soon the park enters your view. It’s a cute space of greenery that the locals often visit, though the dreadful weather has driven away most of the regulars.
Running along the course, you muse about how the leaves on the maple trees have turned a dull shade of brown, past their brilliant reds, sitting in piles at the base of their trunks. The rest of the rows of neatly trimmed bushes and flowers are starting to lose their bloom, as the autumn season lives out the last of its days.
It’s a rather gloomy outlook today.
Remembering your video-call with Erwin the previous night, your heart thuds.
Neither of you spoke about the burden the distance in your relationship is currently taking on your marriage. It’s not like you two can do anything about it, already exhausting your options well before reaching this point.
So instead, Erwin wraps you two with the promises of a more stable future, expressing how excited he is about the outlook of his company, and how he’ll be able to delegate his traveling duties once everything is set.
“I’ll be able to spend nearly all my time back at home,” Erwin states more than assumes. “Soon,” he adds at the end, ambiguously.
“That’s great,” you say with a smile.
Erwin notices how strained it looks across your face, pinching your cheeks just a little too tightly, the elation that it usually holds not quite making it into your eyes. Courtesy to how sharp your cell phone cameras are.
But he doesn’t say anything about it.
Maybe he’s getting tired of apologizing.
But you don’t say anything either.
Maybe you’re getting tired of bringing it up.
Soon the rain stops, so you pull your hood down, taking in an extra deep breath of the cleansed air.
You didn’t like the path your mind is seeking. It made you feel selfish, despite knowing how hard you and Erwin are trying to move past this.
You push your burning calves to complete another lap around the park, bringing you back to the entranceway again. Swiping your phone screen open, you pause before hitting the button to complete your run.
Another unsavory question crosses your mind.
But, how much longer can you hold on?
Frowning, you rattle that thought away and pocket your phone. Usually, you would walk the couple blocks back to your home from here, but maybe you’ll run past your building and continue up north. There’s a nice little loop where you can continue running (away from your thoughts).
As soon as the sidewalk crossing light turns on, your body moves on autopilot, launching off your heels to continue your workout.
Losing yourself in the beats of your music, you fail to register a voice calling your name out in alarm.
Immediately, you feel your arm be seized and the rest of your body yanked back onto the sidewalk. The pull is so forceful, your headphones are knocked off your head and clammer onto the ground.
Broken out of your stupor, you glance around in confusion and irritation flashes across your features that someone would dare to grab you in the middle of the day.
Just as you were able to twist around to confront the stranger, opening your lips with a mouthful of curses, a semi-truck barrels right through the intersection, blowing past the red light.
The gust of wind that follows smacks you right across the face. Several cars begin honking their horns, other people are yelling profanities, and immense agitation and tension festers with the chaos.
Your head pounds and it takes you another moment to realize what the hell happened.
Shifting your eyes between where you stand and the spot where the truck nearly overtook you. You shiver at the proximity.
Your pulse rate nearly matches a hummingbird’s heartbeat.
Were you really so wrapped up in your concerns with Erwin you almost threw yourself into oncoming traffic?
God you needed to get your act together.
You feel a light squeeze on your arm.
Turning, you face the hand that grips you steady to find Zeke peering down at you.
“Are you okay?” His perturbed bright eyes widen, scrunching little wrinkles along the top of his forehead.
A light buzzing circles your ears and you nod your head slowly.
Zeke pauses, noticing your tremors, and has to consciously loosen his grip on you. You looked so small and shakened. He’s unsure if he should follow his body’s pull bring you closer.
When you bring your hand towards your chest severing his touch, he’s glad he didn’t give into the impulse. He bends down to pick up your headphones and hands them over.
"Th-thank you," you stutter out, grasping them and holding them to your chest. You then rub your fingers against your clammy palms together, needing to feel some friction in your palms to ground yourself after what happened.
“We-we’re going to miss the crosswalk,” you say, teeth chattering with residual shock.
“We’ll just make the next one,” he says simply, brushing the miniscule detail off.
“Okay,” you agree, sucking in deep breaths and closing your eyes to steady yourself.
When you open them again, you peer up at Zeke.
“Holy shit, you damn well saved my life,” you point out, rather unintelligently. Despite how plain your tone sounded, you hope your gratitude is obvious. You’re likely still in shock.
“Yeah, don’t make me do it again. Be more fucking careful,” Zeke replies. His words are harsh and sting just a bit, but when you look up towards him, you read the alarm and worry loud and clear on his face.
You nod repeatedly at his sentiment, drawing in another shaky breath.
Guess you won’t be extending your run today.
Zeke walks silently beside you at the next light, stopping just as you reach the sidewalk.
“I have to head somewhere so I can’t walk you home all the way. Are you gonna look both ways before crossing the remaining couple of streets? ” he asks only somewhat condescendingly .
His tone makes you crack a tiny smile. Once again, you nod fervently. Hopefully you can get to the point where you can effortlessly joke about this too.
“Seriously, thank you again,” you say, aiming a relieved smile his way.
"Anytime," he replies with a prolonged stare before he goes on his way.
After tough deliberation, you settle on not sharing with Erwin how you endangered yourself earlier, knowing that it would only make him worry. He’ll end up asking questions about what led you to that point, and you don’t want to tell him the thoughts and doubts you were preoccupied with.
He already has too much on his mind.
You did want to properly thank Zeke though.
Since that day, your orbits began converging, drifting you towards Zeke at a glacial but continual pace.
The next time you run into him, you thank your neighbor again and offer to grab him lunch for his troubles.
Zeke grins as he refuses your gesture, stating that any decent person would have done the same, reiterating again that your safety is what matters. You frown, feeling like you had to enact some additional gratitude, so you insisted that you at least treat him to coffee.
Your neighbor does a little more back and forth, pretending like he doesn’t want to take up your time, when really, your company is at the forefront of his mind.
“Please, it’s honestly the least I can do,” you say more sheepishly, embarrassment flushing your senses as you remind yourself of your careless actions.
Zeke grins slowly as he crosses his arms, looking down at you, “Well, if you’re going to keep asking so nicely, how can I say no?”
At his acceptance, you let out an extra shine in your eyes that he just eats up.
The cafe you suggested was situated right around the corner of your building. It fits the modern, contemporary design and vibes this neighborhood is going for, but unlike the stifling superficial atmosphere that’s all show, this place actually serves a good roast.
After ordering your coffees, you select a couple seats at the benched window, soaking in the warming sun that filters through the glass.
As Zeke slides into the seat next to you, you realize that you really don’t know much about the enigmatic man. So you quickly launch into questioning the basics. Where he grew up, interests, hobbies, the typical digging when you first get to know people. He does the same back, and though there doesn’t seem to be much intersection, you still find his company enjoyable.
It doesn’t take you long to recognize that Zeke carries a more flirtatious manner of speaking. You assume that’s just how he operates, but you still make it very clear how tied you are to your relationship.
“I moved permanently into the city with Erwin after college, and haven’t looked back since,” you smile, relieving the memories that led you to living on this block. Zeke nods along to your words, tracing how your joy lifts your lips and cheeks into a lovely smile.
“Tell me more about your husband,” Zeke asks casually, leaning back against his chair, trying not to let too much of his curiosity show as he takes slow sips of his latte.
Perking your ears up, you happily share with him about your relationship with Erwin, voice adoring as you described how much you still admire your partner after all these years.
“Sounds nice,” Zeke comments, tracing his thumb along the edges of his cup. “Maybe I’ll find that one day,” he muses solely for your benefit. Really he could care less about having a monogamous long-term partner.
“It is, I recommend it,” you grin, reliving your more fond memories with Erwin. Though, you aren’t able to squash the dull ache in your chest that’s been throbbing more and more lately.
The conversation flows naturally, and then you gain the boldness to ask some of the more personal questions you’ve been curious about.
“So what does a trust fund baby do all day besides sleep and mess around?” you question, genuinely curious.
Zeke chuckles at your inquiry, bringing his coffee up for a small sip to hide his amused grin.
“I’m technically an investment banker,” he shares, twisting the cup in his hand. “But that money practically makes itself, so you pretty much nailed it.”
“Sounds nice,” you parrot back, rolling your eyes, only slightly envious that Zeke has so much free time that he can spend however he wants. “Why aren’t you out there traveling the world? Why stay here?” you continue asking.
“I did that shit when I was younger. After a while, it’s nice to anchor to one place. Also, it’s exhausting,” Zeke remarks with a gentle roll of his eyes.
He adds in a casual but calculated follow-up, studying your body language closely.
“I don’t know how your husband does it.”
As expected, your face falls and you fidget your fingers around your cooling, half-sipped latte.
“He’s just incredible,” you say, though your tone sounds unconvincing.
While you fight your inner turmoil, the man next to you suppresses a sadistic little grin that begs to crawl across his lips.
Nothing drastic has happened yet, but he believes an opportunity sits along the horizon.
Zeke has a feeling he’ll get what he wants soon.
He almost always does.