Better?

He moved her hand out of the way to retrieve the bacon from the chest freezer. Closing the lid, he resumed whistling and walked back into the house. His bright-eyed beauty sat at the breakfast bar, smiling at him. They'd had a wonderful night, and now, he was making her breakfast. She was absolutely giddy with appreciation.

After he put the French toast and bacon on the plate, he held up a finger. "One last thing," he said, and went out the front door. He came back with a rose from the bush his wife had held so dearly. His lover smiled as he held the flower to his nose and inhaled.

They clinked glasses of mimosa- another special touch - and dug in. After moments of silence, she said, "You know, I never thought you'd actually do it."

"Make you breakfast? I actually love cooking," he said. 

"No," she said, "leave your wife for me."

He leaned back. "You asked me to," he said. "Why would you ask me to if you didn't really think I would?" He tried to keep the clip out of his tone. 

"I know, but I didn't think you'd actually do it. I thought I'd have to, you know, break up with you."

He blinked a couple of times, then reached his hand across to hers. "I love you. I want to be with you." The squeeze he gave her hand might have been a little too hard.

She looked down at their hands, then smiled again. "I love you, too!"

He kissed her knuckles and they resumed eating. Apparently, the squeeze was thought of as depth of passion, not irritation.

"I can't believe she let you have the house," she said around a mouthful of food. “I would have thought she would have kicked you out.”

He bit back his comment. Her lack of manners was not endearing. Neither were her ideas that she knew what she was talking about. "I guess she wanted a new start somewhere else," he said.

"Yeah, but what about the kids? I mean, you said yourself she'd never move away from her kids."

Another pang of irritation shot through him. "Well, now that the youngest is away at college, and the others are living their own lives, maybe she thought she could find someplace smaller, that wouldn’t be so much to take care of. I wouldn't be surprised if she moved closer to the school our daughter is attending."

She nodded, considering. "I guess that makes sense." 

What would she know. She hadn't put up with his wife for over two decades. Time to change the subject. "What would you like to do today?" he asked. 

"Wellllll, we could go shopping...." she said, looking at him from under her lashes. 

He took a long drink. "Shopping? What do you need?"

"Welllll, nothing particular. But I thought we could go out in public together, since, you know, we have never been able to do that before."

He clenched his jaw. "I think it's a little too soon for that," he said. 

"Come on," she whined, walking around the counter to wrap her arms around his neck. "It's just... we’ve had to hide for so long, it’d be nice to be able to show the world how we feel about each other, instead of pretending. We could go shopping then go out to dinner, without having to drive an hour out of town.”

Before responding, he composed himself. With a sigh and smile that suggested he was giving in to her, he said, "OK. Whatever you want, Babe.”

She squealed and kissed him."I'm going to shower and get dolled up!" 

He watched her run up the stairs and his smile faded as soon as she was out of sight. She hadn't asked about showering, she'd just done it. She really needed to learn her place. 

And they couldn't go out together, it was too soon after his wife had moved out. People would start saying that he had obviously been having an affair, and that was the reason she'd moved out. Then they’d reach out to her, seeking gossip in the form of condolences. He couldn’t have that.

He sighed, stood, and ascended the stairs. It was supposed to be better with her. It was supposed to be simpler now that they could be together. Trying to convince her to wait longer to be seen in public together would be futile. She would agree, but then pout until he got tired of it and gave in. He was tired of being controlled. It was time to do what he wanted when he wanted. Why couldn't these women just let him do what he wanted?

Once he got to the bathroom, he watched her through the clear doors for a moment. He even considered jumping in with her. But he couldn't seem to muster the desire, despite her clumsy attempt to put on a sexy show. 

When she stepped out, he turned her so her back was to him. Starting at her neck, he dried her off, gently dabbing the towel from back to front. He wrapped the towel around her torso, and she held it in place in front of her.

Spinning her to face him, he held her head in his hands, and kissed her gently. He pulled away, and smiled as he moved his hands down, caressing her neck. Her eyes changed from loving, to questioning, to panicked in the space of seconds. He applied pressure until she stopped clawing at his hands. 

Throwing her over his shoulder, he carried her down the stairs. It was easier than it had been with his wife. He'd had to drag her larger body down on the comforter, her head banging on each step. Not that she’d minded.

Once in the garage, he put her at his feet while he opened the lid. It was difficult trying to rearrange his wife in the freezer. He had to force a couple of frozen limbs, causing a crack to reverberate through the garage. But he made enough room to toss in the new, still pliable form.

The two were arranged, almost Ying and yang. One stiff and pale, and still wrapped in her mother's quilt, the other soft and pink, her wet hair sticking to the frozen food. He slowly closed the lid, and began whistling again.