The Divorce He Asked For, The Empire I Took Away novel · Chapter 16 of 32

Chapter 16: Stay

I didn't answer right away.

I wanted to look at him first.

The big shape of him against the dark yard, one hand on my door frame, waiting.

He'd have gone.

That was the thing.

If I'd said go home, he'd have said good night and walked across Dry Creek Road and never made me feel bad about it.

"Stay," I said.

He closed his eyes for one second.

"Say it again. So I know I didn't make it up."

"Stay, Augie. Tonight."

I opened the screen door and he followed me in.

The kitchen was dark except for the little light over the stove.

Winona's door at the back was shut, and her radio was on low, a ballgame from somewhere.

I stopped at the counter.

I reached behind my neck and undid the chain.

My wedding ring slid off into my palm, still warm from my skin.

I lifted the lid of the sugar bowl and dropped it in, where the SIM card had spent a night in August.

Then I put the chain back on, with only the two keys on it.

Augie watched me do all of it and didn't say a word.

"Upstairs," I said. "Quietly."

"I'm always quiet."

"You knocked over a bin stack in a cold room."

"You knocked me into it."

I took his hand and led him up the narrow stairs.

I'd moved back into my old room under the eaves in August.

An iron bed, my grandma's wedding-ring quilt, a window that looked straight out over the Old Block.

Dex had never slept in it.

The door clicked shut behind us.

I didn't turn on the light.

The window was open over the Old Block, and the room smelled like dry leaves and the last of the day's heat.

Augie stood just inside the door, ducking his head under the slope.

"You're sure about this," he said.

"I said stay. I'm not the one who needs to hear it twice."

His mouth twitched.

I stepped in close and took hold of his flannel, both hands, and worked the buttons open one by one.

He let his arms hang at his sides and watched me do it.

"You're good at this," he said.

"I'm good at things you haven't seen yet."

"Show me."

I shoved the flannel off his shoulders and it dropped.

The T-shirt came next.

I pulled it up and he bent so I could get it over his head.

His chest was broad and solid, with a spread of light hair, and I put both palms flat on it.

His skin was warm.

I could feel his heart under my right hand, going hard.

"Sit," I said.

He sat on the edge of the iron bed and it creaked.

I knelt and worked his boots off, then his socks, while he unbuttoned his jeans himself.

He lifted his hips and I pulled the jeans down his legs and dropped them.

He sat there in his boxer briefs, looking up at me.

"Your turn," he said.

"Not yet."

I pushed his chest with one hand.

He went back on the quilt, and the bed creaked again, louder.

I straddled his thighs and pressed my hand flat over his cock through the thin cotton.

He was already hard.

His breath went out in a rush.

"Liesl."

I leaned over him and dragged my mouth across his collarbone.

The chain with the two keys slid and clicked against my chest.

"I want to hear what you like," he said.

His voice was low and rough.

"I want you to tell me out loud."

I sat up over him and I told him.

"I like a man who takes his time."

"Then I'll take mine."

I pulled my shirt off and dropped it on the floor.

His eyes moved over me slowly, down to my bra and back up to my face.

"You're a long, beautiful drink of a thing," he said.

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