Two Hearts, One Wedding

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RapeU
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Posts: 803
Joined: Mon May 26, 2025 5:20 am

Re: Two Hearts, One Wedding

Post by RapeU »

Chapter Tags: FF Multiple orgasms
Content Warnings: Wild, untamed, raw lesbian sex
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Chapter 8 Wedding Night Sex

Hannah had insisted we spend the night in a hotel after the wedding instead of our apartment ever since she started planning for the wedding. It made perfect sense for us to have the honeymoon suite with thicker walls and maximum privacy away from neighbors who might get angry from loud noises.

I had the feeling that both of us wanted to tear each other’s clothes off, but you simply don’t do that with wedding clothes. There was a sacredness to removing the wedding dress, a kind of reverse cocooning I hadn’t expected. We laughed a lot, which helped, at the sheer volume of zippers and hidden buttons. “I think it wants to stay with me forever,” I joked as Hannah kneeled on the plush carpet, her fingers gently peeling lace from my ankles.

Hannah’s suit jacket came off almost as an afterthought, but there was nothing rushed about the way we undressed each other. We hovered, savoring the moment, running careful hands over the newness of us. I felt like with each movement the hotel room itself was holding its breath. When we were both wearing just our bras and panties, we carefully hung up our wedding clothes in the hotel closet.

Once the wedding clothing was stored with care, we embraced our bodies together tightly and experienced the kiss of a lifetime. There were so many good feelings it is impossible to fully describe. I let out a soft moan into her lips as we both gently fumbled the hooks of each other’s bras. Our bras fell to the floor and our breasts together felt electric. We had a short dance while taking off each other’s panties, kissing the whole time.

The kiss broke and I plopped down onto the bed. Hannah crawled her way towards my sex and at first I thought she was going to start. But she moved past my sex, past my breast, and her eyes met mine. Her eyes, oh my lord her eyes. They were so full of love, confidence, and desire. It took me a moment to realize she was staring into my eyes, actually staring. She tried to hide her discomfort, but I could still tell this was hard for her to do. I didn’t look away, but I softened my gaze to show her I understood what she was doing. My breath was taken away as I looked into her eyes and saw the depths of her beautiful soul. We each blinked once and kept staring into each other’s eyes. Goosebumps trembled down my body. I was in awe.

She looked away to the side and her face relaxed. I let out a breath I didn’t know I had been holding. Hannah had done that just for me. She chose me over her own comfort. I found my voice and whispered to her, “I love you too.” She didn’t need to say it first, her look said it for her. Aside from speaking, I stayed exactly where I was and didn’t move. The quiet stretched between us. I didn’t rush her or reach for anything, didn’t try to fill the space. I wanted her to know she didn’t have to move unless she wanted to, and that she could take all the time she needed.

After a moment, she leaned in and pressed her lips to mine, soft and sure. It wasn’t hurried or uncertain. It felt like a choice. I kissed her back, slow and steady, meeting her where she was and nowhere else. Her hands moved over me unhurriedly, familiar and warm. I gasped when her mouth left my lips, expecting her to find that sensitive spot on my neck. Instead, she kissed my cheek, then my ear, her voice low as she whispered, “Gentle first. I want to play for a long time.”

“Holy shit I love you,” I whispered back. She gave my ear a soft, playful bite, then brushed a kiss over my cheek before our mouths found each other again. One of her hands drifted downward slow and careful. Her hand reached my sex and gently rubbed the outside. Hannah’s gentle, slow touch made me want to savor every moment. Every part of me was electric, the kind of sensitive where even a breath over my skin raised goosebumps. Hannah’s fingers moved between my legs, so light that I wanted to beg for more but didn’t want to break the spell of her care. I just let myself melt, letting every little touch and tiny movement build on itself, brick by brick, until I thought I might float right off the bed.

I let the pleasure build in silent, slow increments, drawing each new wave up through my chest and out into her mouth. Hannah’s fingers stroked me, careful as a heartbeat, coaxing shivers along my thighs and up my back. Her touch was feather light but deliberate, like she was reading braille on my most sensitive skin. When the orgasm hit, it was the quiet kind. Just a trembling that started deep in my belly and radiated outward, a flutter of heat and light behind my closed eyelids. My whole world narrowed down to the precise place where her body met mine, where her fingertips drew figure eights against slick, swollen flesh.

Our lips parted and Hannah rolled over. She patted her chest as an invitation for me to lay on her if I needed to. I took her hand and gently pulled it down towards her sex, then stopped. Her eyes twinkled with delight and she led my hand down to her sex. I got on top of her and gave her the same gentle kiss she gave me. I let my hands slide along her waist as I pressed my body against hers. I took my time. I wanted her to feel as cared for and desired as she had just made me feel.

Her sex was lightly wet when I gently touched her there. I let my fingers glide along her slick heat, watching her eyes flutter and close, then open again just enough to see me. Each touch was slow, careful, gentle in a way that felt like a promise. When I finally slipped my finger inside her, she let out a gasp that was half relief and half disbelief. I watched her face the whole time, memorizing how every nerve in her jaw and cheeks tensed, then went slack as she melted into it. I set the rhythm easy and slow, letting her hips do most of the moving.

We’d been together for years but there was something about the first time as wives that made the moment feel fresh. I gently circled her sex, slow and light as a whisper, just the way she liked, feeling the slick warmth beneath my fingertip. Her legs trembled beneath my touch, fine shivers running from her inner thighs to her ankles, and she let her hips rise to meet me, the pressure of her wanting like an electric current humming through the air between us. I kept my eyes on her face, thirsty for every delicious flicker of pleasure behind her closed lids. She gave out a light moan and I knew she had gotten her orgasm. Our lips parted, leaving a thread of moisture between them, and I gently moved my hand away.

I rolled over and Hannah got back on top of me, her warm skin sliding against mine. She didn't need time to recover from her orgasm either. Her eyes were full of desire and love. We kissed again, a deeper and more passionate kiss. My heart fluttered when her mouth went to my ear and she whispered “hold this one in as long as you can.” The words vibrated against my skin, sending goosebumps cascading down my neck and across my shoulders. This was something new we hadn’t done before, just for me.

Hannah started off gentle like last time, but with a more hungry kiss. I met her kiss with a hungry one of my own, feeling my body spark to life beneath her. Her hands roamed, finding every spot that made me shiver, and I let myself forget absolutely everything but the heat of her skin and the taste of her mouth. She pulled away just enough to look down at me, her eyes wild and beautiful, a question and an answer at the same time. I nodded, silently saying yes please, and she dipped her head to my neck on the spot that made me tremble.

Her fingers made my sex explode with pleasure. I gasped and already felt the orgasm coming on. She moved down from my neck, kissing me as she went down. When her mouth reached my breast she found one of my nipples and gave it a soft bite. An “aaaah” of pleasure escaped my lips. She looked at me and reminded me, “Hold it as long as you can.” She paused and then said, “but only if you want to.” “God I love you,” I whispered back.

She responded by making my sex and nipple experience another wave of pleasure. I let out a gasp, feeling the orgasm approaching closer and closer. Her mouth moved to my other nipple, giving it an equal amount of pleasure as the first. I sucked in a sharp breath, my back arching involuntarily off the sheets, hovering at the edge of release. Somehow I managed to hold back the tide. My muscles clenched and unclenched as her clever fingers and demanding mouth coaxed me through waves of pleasure that crashed against my resolve like the ocean against a cliff.

Suddenly, her mouth moved from my chest and back to my neck. I found myself panting in short, desperate gasps, every muscle in my body trembling with the effort of holding back the the orgasm as long as I could. Her lips moved back to my ear, her breath hot, and she whispered “Cum when I kiss your lips.” The words sent electric shivers down my spine as I let out staccato shrieks that seemed to come from somewhere deep and primal inside me. Her mouth hovered tantalizingly above mine, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from her lips. Her eyes were playful and full of mischief, watching me unravel beneath her.

Just when I thought I couldn’t hold it anymore, when every nerve ending screamed for release, her lips finally captured mine in a searing kiss. The sound that tore from my throat was so raw and ragged it couldn’t be contained, couldn’t be muffled even by her hungry mouth. The orgasm crashed through me like a tidal wave of liquid fire, radiating from my core to my fingertips, making my vision blur with pleasure. I didn’t know when her hand went away from my sex, I only knew that I had to take a ragged breath through my nose and screamed again into her mouth as aftershocks rippled through my quivering limbs.

It took me a few moments to realize Hannah had rolled over and was offering her breast for me to lay on. This time I did to recover from the orgasm and listened to her heartbeat. One of my hands was on her other breast, fingers splayed with affection. She stroked her fingers through my hair. After a while she moved her hand to rest on top of the hand I had on her breast. It was her way of telling me she was ready for me to pleasure her.

I still felt like I needed time to recover from that intense orgasm, so I affectionately rubbed my head on her breast to let her know. Her thumb rubbed the back of my hand slowly, letting me know there was no rush. When I was ready, I whispered, “Do you want it like you did me?” There was a pause and she whispered, “Surprise me. I trust you.” Her words made my body tingle and my heart flutter.

While still laying on her breast, I moved my hand to her sex and gently slid a finger inside her. She let out a soft moan. I kissed her chest, then moved up to her neck. My fingers moved in a slow, deliberate rhythm that made her hips rise to meet each gentle thrust. She let out another soft moan and my mouth moved to hear ear. “I love the way you breathe when you feel good,” I whispered sensually. Hannah shivered with delight, goosebumps rising across her flushed skin. My fingers went to the spot I knew she loved and I kept whispering into her ear using my best sexy voice. “I am yours forever; You’re mine forever; I love how we make each other feel good.”

My fingers danced on her sex in a way I knew would drive her wild, and I asked “Do you want to hold it in as long as you can?” Hannah nodded and breathlessly through soft moans said “keep…whispering…like…that…” she managed between soft moans that vibrated through her body. I nibbled on her ear then upped the intensity of my fingers. She gasped as I continued to whisper to her things I knew would drive her wild. “You’re the only one I want; I choose you, every time; This is exactly where I want to be.”

Her voice came ragged between shallow breaths. “Kiss…me…” she whispered, “so…close…” I slowly kissed her ear, then moved to her cheek, and then barely brushed my lips against hers, close enough that our breaths mingled in the narrow space between us. “Y…ye…yesssss…” she whispered as my lips teased her with a brief, light touch then pulling away. I knew her body was a puddle underneath me. Hannah wasn’t ordinarily a screamer during sex, but when our lips met she let out the sexiest, loudest moan I had ever heard her make.

I rolled off of her and patted my breast. She lay down to recover from her orgasm and listen to my heart. One of her hands rested on my other breast, fingers splayed the way we both liked to do it. “That was incredible,” she whispered, her breath a soft flutter against my skin. Her body was free of tension. When her breathing steadied from ragged to rhythmic, I covered her hand with mine and squeezed gently to tell her I was ready. Then, I stroked my thumb across her knuckles to let her know that there was no rush.

Once Hannah recovered she began a slow, seductive crawl back to my ear. Her breath was hot and tantalizing when she whispered, “I know you’re ready for rough.” The way her voice sounded gave me shivers down my spine. She looked at me to gauge my reaction and I frantically nodded yes, my heart pounded with anticipation. Her mouth slid to my neck where she gave me a love bite in just the right spot. I felt her hands push against my breast, palms right at my nipples. Then her nails scratched my chest in a way that made me gasp. Her nails scratched me downward, down to near my sex, and her mouth moved from my neck to one of my nipples, kissing along the way.

When her mouth reached my nipple, she took it between her teeth, applying just enough pressure to make me feel a delicious pinch of pain, swiftly followed by a wave of pleasure. Her finger slid inside me, and I couldn't help but let out a moan of pure ecstasy. Her mouth moved to my other nipple, giving it the same exquisite pleasure. Then, her head slowly moved back up towards my ear. “I love the way your body melts for me,” she whispered. I could only manage a moan in response, my body already reduced to a quivering mess of desire.

Her fingers rubbed the spot in my sex I loved that made my back arch and toes curl. Her mouth, hot and wet, trailed kisses down my body, pausing to lavish attention on my breasts, then my stomach, before finally reaching my sex. Her tongue dipped inside me in a way only Hannah could do. I was overcome by wave after wave of intense pleasure.

When one of her fingers circled around my ass, I felt my body melt even more. But then, as her finger slid in, a memory popped into my head out of nowhere, a flashback of chanting. I remember thinking to myself, ‘NO! This is my wedding night damn it!’ Hannah sensed the change and paused, her finger and tongue slowly moved out of my holes. I felt the pleasure in my sex start to go away and I whispered to Hannah, “Keep going, please. I want this.”

She hesitated, just for a moment, before her tongue resumed its dance on that most sensitive spot. She avoided my ass, focusing instead on building my pleasure higher and higher. “Yessssss…” I hissed, “jussst…liiiike…th…that…donnn…stoooop…” Hannah kept going. The pleasure continued to grow and grow. When the orgasm swept through my body it took me by surprise. My scream wasn’t as loud as the prior one, but it felt just as good.

After the orgasm, and a few moments after I lay my head on Hannah’s breast to listen to her heart, she softly said, “If you need to talk about it, I’m here.” I whispered back, “I’m ok. Truly.” Then I affectionately rubbed my hand between her breasts to reassure her. After a few moments, she took my hand and held it in her own.

I let out a sigh of content then asked “Do you want to keep going?” Without hesitating Hannah simply said “Yes.” We continued taking turns pleasuring each other all night long. Neither of us got much sleep that night. I lost count of how many orgasms we gave each other. Eventually, Hannah and I ended up cuddling close, wanting to pleasure each other more, but too exhausted to continue.
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I've decided to include parts of the honeymoon in this story for a few reasons. One, we need to see Hannah and Wendy do something normal couples do out in the real world besides having sex. Two, there's an additional seed I want to plant. Three, I just want to do another scene of them having sex again in different ways. For instance, neither of them have ever squirted before, it's all just been orgasms. Squirting sounds like a fun thing to write about. :hot: Why didn't I write about it now? So that I could have an excuse to write another lesbian sex scene later :lol:
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RapeU
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Re: Two Hearts, One Wedding

Post by RapeU »

Chapter Tags: No sex, story
Content Warnings: Some sexual banter
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Chapter 9 To The Honeymoon

I woke up to the hush of mid morning. My body hurt, but it was the good kind of hurt in all the right places. Hannah was already out of bed sitting in a chair by the window. She wore one of her nightgowns. In her hand, the blue gel pen worked overtime, scribbling furiously. Classic Hannah, not even a night as my wife before she got back to color coding the universe. I watched her for a few moments, savoring how sexy she was when she worked. “Morning, wife,” I finally said, voice all gravel.

She looked up, startled, pen still poised over the page. “You’re awake,” she said, like she was amazed I hadn’t perished overnight. She smiled and added affectionately, “Wife.” I grinned, loving the sound of the word. “Technically, I’m still in bed,” I said, stretching. “And I’d rather stay in it. With you.” Hannah let out a light giggle, the kind where she knew she wanted to be intimate. “Tempting,” she said, “But room service is coming in a few minutes with breakfast and I want to finish the honeymoon itinerary.”

I raised an eyebrow, “Our honeymoon itinerary?” I propped myself up on my elbow. “You can’t even let the morning after happen organically?” She raised her eyebrows. “You’d prefer we fly to Hawaii and just hope the airline doesn’t send our luggage to Saskatchewan?” I made a face. “Saskatchewan is a great place for newlyweds. Lots of moose. Very romantic.” She rolled her eyes, but there was affection behind it. “I just want it to be perfect,” she said, quieter. I sat up, the sheets pooling at my waist and said, “It’s already perfect, perfect like you.” I hoped she could hear I meant it.

Hannah paused, glanced at the clock, then set her pen perfectly down on the page. “You know,” she said with a smile, “I could use a distraction until room service gets here.” She took off her nightgown, letting me see her beautiful naked form. Then, she snuggled with me under the sheets and we held each other close. We lay there a minute, breathing in sync. I could tell we both wanted more, but it would have to wait for a longer stretch of free time.

Hannah then asked, almost out of nowhere, “Do you really think it’s wrong that I want to plan everything?” I shook my head. “I think it’s hot that you care so much. There’s something sexy about how your brain works.” She laughed, eyes sparkling. “I think it’s hot that you don’t plan,” she said softly. “You make space for things I’d never schedule.” She paused, then gave me a quick kiss. “Like this moment. There’s something…erotic about how your mind works.”

A knock on the door made both of us flinch. Room service was right on time. I scrambled for a robe. Hannah stayed where she was, calm and unhurried, watching me with a look that made my insides melt. “Tonight,” she said it like it was a promise, “we’ll both get what we want.” Her words made me forget why I got up in the first place. A second knock at the door reminded me and I answered it. The server rolled in a table stacked with covered plates and a carafe of coffee. “Good morning, Mrs. and Mrs. Thompson,” he said. “Breakfast is served.”

Hannah made a beeline for the food. She lifted each lid with surgical precision, inspecting the contents before sliding the plate onto the table. “Eggs Benedict, bagels, and pancakes” she narrated. I poured us each coffee and we stood, side by side, surveying the feast. For a second, I didn’t want to eat it. I wanted to photograph it, to burn it into my memory forever.

Hannah caught me staring. “Don’t cry,” she said. “It’s just breakfast.” “I’m not crying,” I lied. “It’s just…sometimes it feels like this isn’t real. That any minute, I’ll wake up and none of it will have happened.” Hannah gave my arm a light touch that made my body tingle. “It happened,” she said. “We happened.” I gave her a warm smile and quick kiss.

We ate in silence, the room humming with coffee and us. The food was even better than it looked. “So,” I said around a mouthful of bagel, “what’s on the itinerary for today?” She reached for her planner. “We check out as soon as we are done eating, return home to finish packing, go to the airport, land in Honolulu and switch gates to a flight to Maui, pick up the rental car, and drive to the hotel.” She looked at me and gave me a mischievous smile, “Then, we do what we want.” I felt my heart flutter and wished I could time skip over the next few hours.

***

Packing with Hannah was like watching an artist at work. She rolled every item like a sushi chef, using some secret geometry to maximize suitcase capacity. I, on the other hand, preferred the “last minute shove and hope” method, which drove her up a wall. I watched as she nestled our outfits in rainbow order, stacking bras and underwear in neat rows.

“You know there’s a word for people like you,” I teased. “It’s called obsessive.” I seriously doubted she needed to pack at all and was just doing it all over again for her own reasons. She didn’t even look up. “You know what they call people who forget to pack extra underwear?” She closed the suitcase with a satisfying snap. “Disaster lesbians.”

I pretended to swoon, collapsing onto our bed. “I accept my fate.” Hannah grinned, then zipped up her carry on bag. She glanced at her phone for the sixth time in as many minutes, then said, “We have ten more minutes until we need to start heading to the airport. Did you pack your toiletries?” “Yes, boss,” I said, but I left out the part where I’d stashed a pair of my rainbow striped undies inside her perfectly organized suitcase when she wasn’t looking. Hannah did one final checklist for anything we might have forgotten and we headed off to the airport.

The closer we got to the airport, the more my guts twisted up. I thought it was just breakfast settling, but by the time we left the parking garage my hands were clammy and I couldn’t catch my breath. The automatic doors of the airport whooshed open with a hiss, and the sounds of rolling luggage and echoing voices crashed over me. I froze, right there on the curb, as if someone had pulled a fire alarm in my brain. In the next instant I was back at Christmas: the frigid air, the taste of nerves in my mouth, the way everything felt like it could go wrong in a second. My pulse beat so fast it made my vision swim. I wanted to move, to keep walking, but my feet were glued to the sidewalk.

Hannah noticed immediately. She set both suitcases down and stepped in front of me, blocking my view of the terminal. “Wendy,” she said, voice soft but insistent. “Look at me.” I tried to focus on her face, but the panic fuzzed everything out, like my eyes were sliding off her. Hannah gently squeezed my hands. “We’re going to Hawaii, remember?” She leaned in, pressing her forehead to mine. “It’s just the airport, babe. I’ve got you.” Somewhere inside, the knot loosened. I let out a shaky breath. “Sorry,” I whispered, the word slipping out before I could stop it. She shook her head. “You don’t need to apologize. I’ll get us through check-in.” She kept one arm around my waist and steered me into the terminal, her body language saying, ‘Nobody is getting to you unless they go through me.’

The security line snaked back and forth, but Hannah was a pro. She had our boarding passes on her phone and IDs ready to flash. The TSA agents actually smiled at us, which felt like a rare cosmic gift. Inside, we found a pair of seats at our gate. I tried to be normal and think of a joke, but I couldn’t stop glancing at the information screens, expecting to see CANCELLED in giant red letters. Hannah caught me staring and slid her hand onto my knee, thumb making lazy circles. “I checked the flight status five times this morning,” she said, smiling crooked. “Nothing short of a volcanic eruption is getting between us and Maui.” I laughed, but the relief hit so hard I nearly started crying. Instead, I just leaned against her and let my head rest on her shoulder.

“Hey,” she said, squeezing my leg. “Want to tell me about the underwear you slipped into my suitcase?” I snickered, “Thought you hadn’t found them yet. Wanted to surprise you.” There was a glint in her eye “You did. It’s my favorite pair of yours.” She kissed my cheek. I smiled and asked “You’re not even a little mad I disrupted your packing system?” She shrugged. “Sometimes a little chaos is good. As long as you’re the chaos.” I exhaled, feeling my body start to relax. “I love you, Han.” She smiled. “I love you too, disaster lesbian.” That made me giggle, some last piece of tension finally giving way. Then she whispered in my ear, “You’re going to look very distracting in those underwear. I don’t intend to let you keep them on long.” I grinned and whispered with my heart fluttering, “I wasn’t planning to let anything stay on long tonight.”

An announcement that our flight was boarding cut the sexy whispering banter short. We boarded the plane and settled in for the long flight. Takeoff was a little rough. My ears popped, but then the plane leveled out and I could breathe again. Hannah passed me a stick of gum, already unwrapped. She always remembered the small things. At cruising altitude, she unearthed a packet of wedding thank-you cards from her bag. “We should get these done before we land,” she said. I stared at her, incredulous. “You want to do thank-yous on the plane?” She shrugged, like it was obvious. “We’ll be busy once we hit the ground. Besides, it’ll keep our minds off the flight.” I rolled my eyes but agreed. She wrote with her favorite blue gel pen, while I tried to make my handwriting legible enough that people wouldn’t think we’d hired a toddler.

Before I knew it the captain announced we were making our final descent. “I have to admit,” I said impressed, “You think of the most creative ways to get things done.” She smiled with a hint of pride “Just think of the time we saved,” she said. Her tone turned into a playful whisper, “We can do other things with that time.” I gave her a quick kiss as a response.

We had about a half hour layover at the airport in Honolulu to give us time to catch our next flight to Maui. We arrived at the gate just as boarding started. Hannah looked relieved, “Just in time,” she murmured. When we got seated I saw a guy who looked familiar a few rows ahead of us. “Hey, Han,” I whispered, “is that the guy from the reception?” Hannah blinked, looked, then whispered “He does look similar, but I doubt it’s him. I don’t get the same creepy vibe from this guy. Do you?” I shook my head “No.”

Hannah paused in thought and said, “That does remind me…” she rummaged deep into her bag for a few moments, then pulled out the reception seating chart. Her finger pointed to a name that I read aloud, “Lenny Leonard.” Hannah nodded, “That was the guy who creeped us out at the reception.” I shook my head and snorted. “You’re joking, right?” She shook her head. “Nope. I checked. I don’t know a Lenny Leonard.” I shook my head again. “Lenny Leonard is a character from The Simpsons,” I explained.

Hannah blinked at me, eyebrows climbing. “From the what?” I pulled out my phone, took it off airplane mode, and did a quick google search for a picture of him. “The Simpsons, Han. He’s, like, Homer’s friend at the power plant. The guy who always gets something in his eye.” I showed my phone to Hannah. Her mouth made a perfect O. “So…someone used a cartoon character’s name to get into our wedding?” She took a moment to process it, her face going from confused to annoyed to begrudgingly amused in five seconds flat. “Do you think it was Zoe?” she asked.

I shrugged, then turned my phone back on airplane mode since we were about to take off. “I think we would have seen the punchline by now. Elaborately long jokes aren’t her style.” I paused and added, “Aside from when we kidnap each other, but those are more for having days of fun together instead of an actual joke.” I paused again and asked, “Could it have been anyone from your side of the family?” My body felt a little tingle at the thought of being part of her family now. Hannah shook her head, “They wouldn’t.” Her voice got quieter, “They know better.”

The tension in her words was palpable, and I tried to dissolve it with a joke. “Maybe he was an assassin hired by my parents,” I said deadpan. She snorted and rolled her eyes, “I’m sure they’re not that deplorable.” Her words hung in the air for a few moments. Then I shrugged again “Nothing we can do about the mystery man now.” Hannah nodded, “Agreed. We’re on our honeymoon. That’s more important than some random creepy guy who didn’t do anything.”

The flight didn’t even last for an hour and was quick compared to the other. When we landed in Maui, Hannah was in the zone, dragging both bags behind her with a look of grim determination. She navigated the signs and escalators as if she’d been born here, only pausing to double check the rental car reservation number in her planner. At the counter, a cheerful woman in a floral shirt said, “Congratulations!” when she saw our matching rings. Hannah grinned, “Thank you. Honeymoon,” she said, with a hint of pride. We got a tiny blue convertible, the kind of car that screamed “tourists!” We loaded our suitcases, and I watched as Hannah obsessively adjusted the mirrors, checked the GPS, then checked it again.

I felt tension in the car and saw Hannah’s eyes twitch, the tight line of her jaw betraying the storm inside her.. “Hey, babe,” I said and took her hand. “You’re here with me. We’re in Hawaii, on our honeymoon.” Hannah blinked rapidly then exhaled. “We’re ok,” she simply said. I nodded, “Better than ok. We’re married and madly in love with each other.” The tension dissolved as Hannah came back from her demons. She smiled and repeated, “Madly in love.” After a brief pause, Hannah drove us out of the airport like she’d been rehearsing it for months.

The drive to the hotel was a blur of bright beautiful colors. Green, blue, and a mixture of colors I didn't even know existed. We hit the resort just as the sun was setting. The whole place looked like a movie set. Hannah checked us in expertly. A bellhop helped us with our luggage and showed us to our room. The hotel room was a suite with windows that overlooked the beach. I had never seen such blue beautiful waters ever in my life. There was a balcony wide enough to do yoga or cartwheels, though I doubted Hannah would approve of either. The bed was a large king size, swaddled in layers of white and blue. For the first time in days, I felt like I could inhale all the way to my toes.

Hannah insisted on unpacking immediately. She lined up our toiletries, hung our clothes, even folded my pajamas into a drawer. I let her. It made her calm, and it was a small price to pay for her comfort. While she did that, I went onto the balcony and leaned over the rail, letting the sea air whip my hair back. The ocean sounded different here. Not crashing, but steady, like the breath of something enormous and patient.

When Hannah joined me, she wrapped her arms around my waist from behind and pressed her cheek against my back. I turned around, and she had tears in her eyes. I reached up and wiped one away with my thumb. “What’s wrong?” I asked, my own voice tight. She shook her head. “Nothing. I just…I didn’t think we’d ever get here. Not really.” I understood what she meant. Not just the island. Not just the resort. But here, safe, together, after everything.

“We made it,” I said. She nodded. “We made it.” We stood there for a long time, not talking, just breathing together and watching the sky change from blue to purple to black. The moon was out and cast a romantic glow over everything. In the glow, our wedding rings looked like they’d been dipped in ice water, sparkling with every movement. I touched mine, feeling its coolness and weight, and thought of all the things we’d survived. All the places we’d been, and all the ones we’d never go back to. For the first time, the future didn’t seem scary. It just seemed possible. Somewhere out there, maybe, Lenny Leonard was still watching. But tonight, nothing could touch us.
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I considered adding a sex scene here, but we just had one last chapter. Let's see Hannah and Wendy do some honeymoon stuff together first. And of course, I still need to plant one or two more future story seeds :)
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Re: Two Hearts, One Wedding

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Lovely and romantic, the reader can't help but feel good for the girls.

Yeah, and hot where it is supposed to be. :hot:

A silly question -- how did Lenny end up on the reception seating chart? Is it going to be a plot point later?
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Re: Two Hearts, One Wedding

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Great chapter and planning the honeymoon itinerary got the laugh out of me that was intended.
Hanna is not OCD, she would tell us it’s CDO as the creator intended.
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Re: Two Hearts, One Wedding

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Lucius wrote: Sun Jan 25, 2026 9:55 am A silly question -- how did Lenny end up on the reception seating chart? Is it going to be a plot point later?
"Lenny" (Mark from Record Chaser) essentially knows how to blend in and be unnoticed, which is how he takes his victims by surprise. It also allows him to get information from just observing. It's nothing big, he just found the number to RSVP, then RSVP'd like a normal person and no one caught him.
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Re: Two Hearts, One Wedding

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Chapter Tags: Story, but there's a little lesbian action towards the end to tease the reader.
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Chapter 10 A Perfect Day

I woke up the next morning in the best way, with a kiss from Hannah. When she noticed I was awake, she murmured, “Morning, Mrs. Thompson,” soft and a little smug. The title zinged up my spine. I wanted her to say it again. Instead, she leaned forward and kissed me a second time, a long, lingering press of lips. The memory of last night’s love making after we came in from the balcony flashed through my mind. My body melted, and I wanted to make love with her again.

Hannah of course sensed my desire. “Later,” she promised after the kiss broke, “We have a whole day of adventure ahead of us.” I sat up and noted Hannah was already dressed. She wore a blue tank top and shorts that stopped just before her knees. Her red hair was scraped into a ponytail, a few wild curls making escape attempts at her temples. She looked impossibly hot. I had the distinct sense she’d been awake for an hour, plotting the shape of our honeymoon.

I grinned and said half joking half serious, “Hear me out…what if our adventure is just ignoring the plan and ruining the bed sheets?” Hannah closed her eyes and inhaled slowly. She opened them back up and glanced at the bed. “Don’t tempt me, Mrs. Thompson,” she whispered, and the look she gave me was a lightning bolt straight to my sex. For a split second I thought she might say screw the itinerary and pounce, but instead she bent over, hands on knees, staring at me with a hunger that said she was making a mental note, saving the craving like dessert. “I have plans for that bed tonight,” she said, her voice gone husky, “and for you.”

She paused and my heart thudded in my chest. “But now,” her voice turned back to normal, “we’re about to go snorkeling, and if we’re late I’m leaving you there,” her mouth curved in a teasing smile, “naked with the sharks.” “Hmmm,” I pretended to think. “Naked with the sharks or naked with my wife, which one do I prefer?” She laughed, “You’re impossible, just what am I going to do with you?” I grinned, “Love me forever.” She gave me a quick kiss, “Forever,” she echoed.

I let the moment linger for a little bit, then asked “What else are we doing today?” She grinned, a flash of something mischievous in her face. Then she produced, from behind her back, a single sheet of thick card stock. At first I thought it was a wedding card or some elaborate origami, but as she handed it over, I saw the telltale stripes of color coding. It was the itinerary for our first full honeymoon day.

“Impressive,” I said and meant it. Hannah’s eyes crinkled with pride. “I know it’s a little much, but I wanted to make sure we got to do everything. Today is Molokini Crater snorkeling, couples’ massage at the spa, and a sunset dinner on the beach.” She pointed to different colors as she was speaking. I spotted a gap in the afternoon, a box outlined in my favorite color yellow. In her handwriting it said: spontaneous time. Wen chooses.

I gasped when I saw it, “You scheduled spontaneous time,” I murmured. Hannah shrugged. “I am nothing if not thorough.” She watched my face, searching for a flicker of doubt. I let her look, then I reached out and brushed my knuckles along her cheek. “It’s perfect,” I said, and I meant it. The yellow box felt like a quiet affirmation that even inside her careful plans, there was room for me to breathe. Hannah beamed with pride at my words.

***

Downstairs, the hotel breakfast buffet had all the right goodies. The pastries, pancakes, yogurt, and various fruit had flavors that melted in my mouth. The coffee was so strong it made my eyes water before I even drank it. Hannah piled our plates like she was prepping for a marathon, then we went to a space called the lanai, partially outdoors and partially indoors.

We sat side by side, legs tangled, our breakfasts arrayed before us like an offering to the gods of carbohydrates. Hannah poured us each a mug of Kona coffee, black as engine oil. She sipped first, closing her eyes in a kind of reverence. I reached for the fruit, picked up a chunk of pineapple, and bit in. It was sweeter than any fruit I’d ever had, cold and tart and sticky on my tongue.

I let the taste linger, watched Hannah as she opened her planner and made a note with her favorite blue gel pen. There was something profoundly erotic about watching her plan out the next twelve hours, like she was orchestrating pleasure instead of just documenting it. She looked up at me through her lashes, pen still poised. “You look happy,” she said, a little surprised.

“I am happy,” I told her. “Like, this might be the happiest I’ve ever been.” I paused, considered whether it was too much, too soon, to say it. Then I said it anyway, because it was true. “I’m not worried about anything. Not even a little bit.” She grinned, not her nervous smile but the full on, toothy Hannah smile, the one I’d fallen for in the first place. She leaned over, stole a piece of mango from my plate, and popped it into her mouth. “No nightmares?” she asked, gentle. I shook my head. “Not even a bad dream. I just…woke up and everything was perfect.” I felt my chest expand with something wild and unfamiliar. I decided to name it joy.

Hannah reached over and squeezed my knee, then returned to her coffee and her notes. I watched her for a while, letting the breeze cool the back of my neck and the sun warm my cheeks. Eventually I broke the silence, “You know,” I said, “the yellow box was a good idea.” She looked up, eyebrows raised. “Yeah? What are you going to make us do with your ‘spontaneous time?’” I stretched my arms overhead, savoring the ache of sun and food and love. “We could skinny dip in the ocean. Or maybe take a nap together in a hammock. Or…” I broke off, watching her face for the sparkle I hoped would bloom there. “Or we could just stay right here and make out for an hour.”

The sparkle was instant, and perfect. She capped her pen and set it aside, then turned in her chair to face me. “All of the above,” she whispered. “But first, you have to finish your coffee. It’s on the itinerary.” I grinned and drank it down in one go. “Coffee consumption complete,” I said. She smiled and gave me a warm kiss, the kind of kiss that said ‘I love and want you forever.’

We finished breakfast with a kind of contented laziness, but Hannah kept stealing glances at her phone. I could tell she was vibrating inside with the urge to get-moving-now, but she was trying hard to not rush me. I picked a few more pieces of pineapple from my plate, took her hand, and said, “Lead the way, boss.” She squeezed my fingers and flashed that telltale smile, the one that read both ‘You’re my favorite person’ and ‘I’m herding you like a wayward sheep.’

At the marina, we found the catamaran bobbing at the end of a sun baked dock. The boat’s sides were striped in white and teal, the deck crowded with snorkel gear, flotation belts, and a long haired crew member who was either very stoned or had reached a state of complete tropical enlightenment. Our captain met us at the foot of the gangway. He was built like a rugby player but with a smile soft enough to make my nerves evaporate.

“Call me Keone,” he said, voice a rolling baritone that somehow made every syllable a little funny. “Welcome aboard. You picked a killer day for a dive.” He led us up the ladder and onto the deck, where there were other people sharing the adventure. Hannah pressed into my side, her hand gripping my arm, and let out a nervous giggle when Keone handed us our wetsuits. “It’s like spandex, but for fish,” she whispered.

“Don’t worry,” I told her, “You’re going to be the sexiest fish in the Pacific.” She elbowed me in the ribs and then, as if on cue, the boat pulled away from the dock and cut into open water. The engines hummed, white spray fanned behind us, and I felt the sun bleach away the last traces of mainland tension. For a moment, everything was movement and salt, the horizon splitting the world into just ocean and sky.

Keone had stories for everything. He explained that Molokini Crater was a crescent shaped caldera left over from a volcanic eruption, that the currents here made it one of the best snorkeling sites in the world, and that if you were lucky, you might see a shark. “But don’t worry,” he said, “they’re all vegan.” Everyone laughed. I leaned back, closed my eyes, and let the boat rock me into a gentle trance.

When we reached the crater, the water turned a color so blue it almost defied reality. Keone gave us a quick safety rundown, then passed out masks, fins, and waterproof cameras. “Take pictures,” he said, “otherwise nobody back home will believe you.” Hannah had brought her own GoPro, of course. She fiddled with the settings like a NASA engineer, then handed it to me. “Promise not to drop it,” she said. “I want at least one picture of us that isn’t an accidental up the nose shot.”

Getting into the water was a shock, it was cold at first, then instantly perfect. The moment we dipped our faces beneath the surface, the entire world flipped. Sound completely vanished, and in its place came a roar of color and movement. I reached for Hannah’s hand, found it, and together we drifted in the slow current, our bodies suspended above a city of living coral. The fish were everywhere. There were yellow tangs with pancake shaped bodies, blue and white striped butterflyfish, and a triggerfish that looked like a cartoon character invented by someone on acid.

Hannah pointed and I followed her finger to see a school of tiny, neon blue fish flitted between finger corals. Then they disappeared as if they’d never existed. I glanced over at her and saw that she was smiling, mouthpiece and all, her eyes wide and startled behind the mask. I wanted to capture that look and keep it forever. Beneath us, the reef dropped away to an impossible depth, its walls crawling with creatures I could barely recognize. We swam side by side, our bodies brushing every so often, and every time it happened I felt a charge that had nothing to do with static and everything to do with her.

Halfway through the dive, I felt Hannah’s hand touch me repeatedly in excitement. She pointed again, more frantic this time. I followed her line of sight and almost gasped water straight into my lungs. There was a beautiful green sea turtle, big as a duffel bag, that drifted by not three feet from our faces. Its eyes were ancient and unbothered. It paddled lazily, flippers flaring in slow motion, and for a second we just floated there, watching each other. I looked over at Hannah, and her expression was pure, wild wonder. I snapped a picture with the GoPro, desperate to immortalize that second.

The turtle vanished into the blue. Hannah let out a noise that sounded like a cross between a squeal and a sob. We surfaced together, masks off, hair dripping. “Did you see that?” she yelled, the words ragged and joy shocked. “Did you see?” “I saw,” I said, and pulled her in for a kiss. It tasted like ocean and adrenaline. “I can’t believe you did that,” she said, laughing. “We’re going to get kicked off the boat for PDA.” “Let them try,” I said, and kissed her again, slower this time.

When we climbed back onto the catamaran, the other guests were already wrapped in towels and sipping coconut water. Hannah looked like a goddess, lightly red at the cheeks, hair wild and wet. We pressed our faces together for a selfie, both of us grinning with teeth, cheeks slick with seawater, and snapped a half dozen shots before I posted the best one on Facebook.

Keone passed around chunks of fresh pineapple and little paper cups of coconut water. I drained mine in two sips. Hannah smiled, “That was the best thing I’ve ever done,” she said, her voice soft and hoarse. “Me too,” I agreed. The boat ride back was quiet, all of us dazed and happy, letting the sun and the wind and the salt settle into our bones. All I could think, over and over, was: this is exactly what I wanted. Exactly what we deserved.

By the time we got back to the hotel, I still tasted ocean on my lips. I could see Hannah’s skin freckling by the minute, her arms around my waist as we walked up the garden path. We didn’t say much, just held hands and let the silence be big and gentle and full. There was nothing to plan, nothing to fix, nothing to fear. We had the whole rest of the day to ourselves.

We dried off and changed back into real clothes. My body had the ache of a happy exercise. The couple’s spa was next on the agenda. It was perched at the edge of the resort, just as beautiful as the one I went to with Zoe the day before the wedding. A greeter in a white linen dress met us at the door, her voice the spa version of an ASMR video. She pressed tiny cold towels into our hands, then led us to the dressing area where two fluffy white robes and matching spa slippers waited for us. I shrugged out of my clothes and into the robe, feeling more relaxed already.

We padded down a hallway lined with potted orchids, their petals white and spotted purple, the floor underfoot smooth as water worn stones. The massage suite was open on two sides to the breeze, privacy provided by hanging curtains. In the center there were two tables, perfectly parallel, with sheets so white they looked impossible to clean. Hannah slid onto her table and let out a little moan as she put her face into the cradle. I did the same, the table cool and just barely yielding.

Our therapists arrived and introduced themselves in voices so gentle I couldn’t remember their names. The first touch was soft, but by the time they started in earnest I felt every knot in my shoulders and back loosen, then vanish. Lavender oil warmed between their palms, and the scent drenched the air, crowding out everything else. I could hear Hannah breathing next to me, every exhale a fraction longer than the last. My own breathing mimicked hers.

After an hour that passed in a blink, we were wrapped in towels and offered lemon water with little slices of cucumber. Hannah’s eyes had the dazed look of someone just returned from a long, important journey. I wanted to stay here forever. But there were other things on the agenda. I nudged her, whispered: “Ready for adventure?” She blinked, then nodded.

It was now spontaneous time, and I chose a photography tour of the island. The photographer was a walking canvas, her skin a dark tan, her hair a wild tangle of dark curls. She moved with a grace and confidence that spoke of years spent exploring the island. “I’m Kailani,” she said. “I’m your photographer-slash-guide for the next couple hours.” She grinned at Hannah, then at me, and I could tell immediately that she had already decided she liked us. “You two ready to make some memories?” I gave Hannah a look. She was about to say something sarcastic, but Kailani’s energy was so pure she couldn’t bring herself to ruin it. “We’re ready,” I said, and climbed in next to Hannah.

The next two hours were a blur of locations and poses and colors so wild I started to wonder if every memory of this place would seem fake when we got home. Kailani took us first to a waterfall tucked back off a winding road, where the air was cooler and the light fractured by overhanging leaves. She posed us on a wet rock at the base, mist drifting everywhere, and told us to “look at each other like you’re the only ones on the planet.” I did. It felt easy. I knew later that our faces would be wet but also radiant, the rainbow in the mist arching behind us.

Next, she drove us out to a black sand beach where the sand was coarse and glittered in the sunlight. The waves here were rough, breaking white on the shore, and Kailani had us dance together at the edge of the surf until we were both breathless and my feet were caked in wet sand. She got a dozen shots of us spinning and laughing, Hannah’s hair a cloud around her head, both of us wilder and more in love than ever before.

The last stop was a garden, not public but hidden behind a gate, where Kailani said she knew the owner. The place was dense with flowering trees in every possible color. The air buzzed with bees and birds. Kailani handed me a single pink flower and told me to put it behind Hannah’s ear. I did, careful not to break the stem, and she snapped a picture just as Hannah turned to smile at me, the petals a burst of color against her red hair. Through all of it, Hannah was quiet. Not tense, just… absorbing. She let me guide her through each new setting, didn’t even fuss when I pressed my cheek to hers for a close-up selfie. “You’re happy,” I whispered, and she just nodded, too full to put it into words.

When the sun dropped low, painting the clouds in stripes of violet and gold, Kailani suggested we take one last shot for the road. She lined us up facing the ocean, the sky behind us blazing with every color possible. “Put your arms around each other,” she said. “Yeah, just like that. Now look at the sunset and think about everyone who helped you get here.” I closed my eyes, picturing Zoe and Aisha, their stubborn, loyal faces, the way they’d carried us through everything. I thought about Diane and Frank. I even thought, for half a second, about my own parents, and the weird, jagged way love sometimes works.

After the shutter clicked, Kailani lowered her camera and studied the preview screen. Her smile faded as she swiped through images. “Been doing this about fifteen years now,” she said, eyes still on the screen. Her fingers paused on an image. “Last year, I shot a wedding where the bride kept checking her phone during portraits, and the groom’s eyes…” She shook her head, “I don’t think they will make it, but I hope they do.” Kailani looked up from the camera then, her smile easy and certain. She glanced from Hannah to me and back again. “You two are truly in love,” she said. I slid my fingers into Hannah’s and squeezed. She squeezed back, automatic and sure. “Thank you,” we both said softly together.

***

Sunset dinner on the beach was beyond anything I could have imagined. A hotel staff member led us down a winding garden path to a private wedge of beach cordoned off just for us. Every few feet, a bamboo torch hissed and guttered, casting little swirls of gold and shadow on the sand. A dinner table sat on a wooden platform a few yards from the surf. The table settings were minimal but perfect, with heavy silverware and blue edged napkins folded like miniature sails. At the far edge of the platform, a server in a hibiscus-print shirt hovered, a bottle of sparkling wine already sweating in an ice bucket.

We kicked off our sandals and dug our toes into the cool sand. When the server pulled out Hannah’s chair, she gave him a bashful nod, as if she’d never been the focus of so much attention before. “Congratulations, ladies,” he said, voice as smooth as the bubbles he poured into our glasses. “You’ve got the beach to yourselves tonight. If you need anything, just wave.” He vanished with a bow, leaving us to the slow roll of the waves and each other. In the light of the torches, Hannah looked like the version of herself I’d always loved best. She was unguarded, a little unsure, but undeniably happy.

Dinner arrived in courses, each one prettier than the last. The first was a salad of local greens with the perfect amount of dressing. Hannah poked at it, then ate every bite. Next came fresh caught mahi-mahi, grilled and topped with a salsa of mango and lime, served with a side of coconut rice and fat, blushing wedges of papaya. Between bites, we talked about everything and nothing: the best moment of the day, the weirdest fish we’d seen, and how beautiful the sunset was.

“I keep thinking I’ll wake up and all of this will be gone,” Hannah whispered. I squeezed her hand. “It’s not going anywhere,” I replied. The server then brought dessert, which was a platter of tiny chocolate cakes and a bowl of sweet, slippery lychee. I snapped a picture of the table, the ocean behind it. I sent it to Zoe and Aisha. Within seconds, my phone buzzed.

Zoe: “If you don’t bring me back a seashell, we’re breaking up.”

Aisha: “You’re both glowing. So proud of you both.”

When we finished eating, the server returned with two heavy beach towels. “For laying in the sand,” he said. We walked the shoreline, barefoot, the only sounds the hissing of torches and the hush of the surf. We didn’t talk, just walked in silence, occasionally letting our arms swing together, fingers laced. We picked a spot, spread out the towels, lay down, and watched the sky pulse with stars. Hannah curled into my side, head on my shoulder, and pointed out constellations she barely remembered the names of. “I wish I knew more about the stars,” she said. “It feels like they should mean something.”

I tried to name a few. “That’s Orion, right?” She nodded. “I think so.” I squeezed her closer. “You don’t have to know the names. We can make up our own stories.” She laughed, low and soft. “You’d do that, wouldn’t you?” I shifted so we faced each other, noses almost touching, and let my hand trace the shape of her face, memorizing her in the starlight. “I would,” I said. “I think every night we should pick a new star and claim it. Make it ours.”

She bit her lip, considering. “What if someone else already claimed them?” I kissed her, a sensual press of lips. “Let them try and stop us.” A meteor streaked overhead, then another, so fast I almost missed them. “Look,” I said. “Wishes.” She watched, eyes wide, and I knew, just knew, she’d been making wishes all along. she kissed me next, and the moment was completely, totally perfect.

I pulled Hannah on top of me, her body nice and warm, and my hands rubbed her slowly. She gave a soft moan in approval, her breath suddenly shallow. “I want to go back to the room,” she whispered in my ear in a tone that made my heart flutter and rest of my insides melt. We gathered the towels and went our way back to the hotel. The path to the room was empty. The suite itself was cool and dim, the moonlight spilling across the bed in a clean white slash.

We stripped off our clothes, every layer more urgent than the last. In the dark, her body was a warm, solid thing, her hands strong and confident as they mapped out every inch of me. I kissed her everywhere, hungry and reverent, wanting her to feel as cherished and beautiful as I saw her. We gave each other amazing orgasms, each time better than the last.

As I lay on Hannah’s chest to recover from a particularly intense orgasm, I realized the whole day had passed without a single flashback, panic attack, or ghost from before. All that was left was this: the warmth of her against me, the promise of tomorrow, and the memory of every wish made under the stars. For the first time ever, I was right where I belonged. And nothing, not even the universe, could take that away.
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Re: Two Hearts, One Wedding

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Greatest Bliss in the world being married to the person you love.
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Re: Two Hearts, One Wedding

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Chapter Tags: No sex, story
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Chapter 11 Iao Needle

A few days later it was halfway into the honeymoon and I woke up again to Hannah kissing my lips. “Your wake up calls are better than an alarm clock,” I sleepily said. Hannah replied with a soft giggle, her lips brushing my ear. “Morning,” she whispered. “You want to see Iao Valley before the crowds get there? Or should we just keep making out until the cleaning crew begs us to leave?”

I blinked, trying to reassemble my brain. The second option had a lot of appeal. Hannah was already dressed in gray hiking shorts, a sleeveless dark green athletic tee that made her arms look longer and stronger than normal, and a ponytail with a blue scrunchie that matched exactly nothing else she wore. She smelled like hotel soap and coconut sunscreen. Her eyes were clear and wild, scanning my face for signs of consciousness.

“No fair,” I protested, “you’re already dressed so option 2 is just to tease me.” She leaned closer, bracing one knee on the mattress, crowding my space on purpose. “That’s because teasing you is a hobby,” she said. “Low effort. High reward.” I groaned dramatically and flopped back onto the pillow. “You weaponized morning productivity. That’s cruel.” “Incorrect,” Hannah said cheerfully. “It’s strategic.” She bent down and kissed me again, quick and soft, just enough to make my breath catch. Then she pulled back before I could chase her mouth. “If you get up now, I’ll let you pick where we stop for breakfast before the hike.”

I cracked one eye open. “Is this bribery?” “It’s incentives,” she corrected. “Very different.” I pushed myself upright, sheets tangling around my waist. “You know,” I said, “one day I’m going to beat you at your own game and wake up before you.” She smiled slowly, devastatingly. “I look forward to that day,” she said. “But it will not be today.”

I grumbled, but the mention of breakfast did its job. My body ached a little from another marathon of nightly lovemaking, but I managed to get myself upright. Hannah watched me put on my shorts with a focus that was part hunger, part amusement, and when I realized my shirt was inside out, she laughed and fixed it for me. “You’re cute in the morning,” she said, running her fingers through my hair, which must have looked like I had gotten struck by lightening. “Like, way cuter than you know.” I stuck my tongue out at her and she giggled.

We left the hotel on foot, weaving through the perfectly trimmed jungle paths toward the rental car. Hannah had reserved a convertible, “for scenic purposes,” but mostly she just loved the idea of driving with the top down. The air was still crisp, even though the sun was already hot on my shoulders. I watched the way the wind whipped her hair as she navigated the sleepy morning streets, her hands at ten and two, her whole body radiating a precise sort of joy. I picked Komoda Bakery for breakfast, a local spot that looked unchanged since the 1920s. We stood in a short line with a handful of people. We ordered two malasadas each, warm and pillowy and dusted with a snowy layer of sugar that stuck to our lips. The coffee was Kona, black and strong and bitter enough to strip paint. We carried our haul outside, sat on the edge of a curb in the sunlight, and watched the town blink awake.

Hannah pulled out her blue gel pen and the day’s itinerary, still color coded, still with checkboxes. “First: donuts. Second: hike. Third…” she looked up, “Maui Ocean Center.” I eyed her over my coffee, “You know you don’t have to plan literally everything, right? Sometimes good things happen by accident.” I licked sugar off my thumb for emphasis. “Like, what if we just… drive and see where we end up?” Hannah’s lips twitched. “That’s how people get lost and eaten by feral chickens.”

I took a big, theatrical bite of my malasada. “I’ll take my chances, Mrs. Thompson.” The zing of sugar and warmth made my whole body tingle. “Besides, you love it when I mess up your schedule.” “Only when it involves pastries,” she admitted. She put the pen away, a surrender that felt symbolic, then leaned in and kissed the sugar off the corner of my mouth. “Let’s get moving before it gets too hot.”

The drive to Iao Valley was short, the road curling between dense green hills. Clouds snagged on the peaks, moving slow as smoke. By the time we reached the park entrance, the sun had burned away most of the haze. At the trailhead, a park volunteer in an oversized bucket hat handed us a map. “Stay on the marked paths,” she said, eyeing us like we might be the type to take an ill-fated selfie on a cliff edge. “And the stream is stronger than it looks. Be careful around the deeper parts.” Hannah accepted the map, thanked the woman, and then immediately pulled out her phone for GPS backup. I let her. Sometimes, there was no fighting the current.

The hike started with a steep set of stone steps. I groaned at each one, more for the drama than the effort. Hannah was efficient, taking the stairs in quick, measured paces, not even winded. “This is beautiful,” she said, her voice a little breathy, “but also terrifying. Can you imagine trying to climb this as a kid?” She pointed to a narrow, root-tangled section that looked more like a landslide than a path. “I’d have eaten dirt in the first ten steps,” I said. “But then I’d have gotten up and tried again.” “You would have,” she agreed. “You always do.”

The trail wound into the forest, past ferns the size of patio umbrellas and trees so thickly tangled that sunlight came in only as mottled spots. Somewhere high above, birds called, the sound distant and clear. The air was cool, but every so often a patch of sun would hit us and my skin would prickle with heat. The path was slick with old rain, the rocks mossy, but Hannah always found the dry footing first, and then offered her hand back to me.

After a mile or so, the trees thinned and we came out at the first overlook. The valley dropped away, all green rippling down to a silver stream that wound through the bottom. On the far side, the Iao Needle shot straight up, a spike of stone so perfectly vertical it seemed to defy the rest of the world. Clouds caught on its tip, drifting across and then breaking apart. The whole place felt ancient, powerful in a way I couldn’t name.

We stood in silence for a minute, just breathing it in. Hannah took a photo, then another, then put her phone away. “I thought it would be… more crowded,” she said, sounding almost shy. “I think most people are still at breakfast,” I offered. “Or they’re normal and sleeping in. Not like us.” “Not like us,” she agreed, a quiet pride in her voice. I sidled closer and pressed my head to her shoulder. She smelled of sweat and sunscreen, but underneath that, the warm and steady scent of her. The sun on my back made me lazy and happy. I could have stood there all day.

“Hey, Han,” I said, “you think the Needle is a phallic symbol, or is it just me?” Hannah sighed like she was trying not to laugh. “It’s a geological feature.” Then she leaned closer and murmured, “But yes. It absolutely is.” She made a show of looking at the needle, then looking back at me, then said with a curved smile, “Good news, my sexuality is still intact.” I let out a guffaw that probably startled every bird within fifty yards. “God, I love you,” I said, unable to stop grinning. She kissed me, a nice long one, and after it broke whispered, “I love you too.”

We let the moment linger a while, then hiked on, stopping every so often for a new view or a particularly interesting bird. The forest got denser as we descended toward the stream, the path slippery with dark, rich mud. Hannah wiped out once, hands splaying into the dirt, and instead of getting angry she just sat there and laughed, a bright peal that echoed down the valley. I laughed too, and helped her up, brushing the worst of the mud off her knees.

At the stream, the water was so clear it made the rocks below look like they were floating. We peeled off our shoes and rolled up our shorts, then waded in up to our shins. The water was glacier cold, numbing at first, but then delicious, alive. I splashed a handful at Hannah, who shrieked, then retaliated with a full-on soaking. We must have looked ridiculous, two grown women wrestling in three inches of water, but it was perfect. Afterward, we lay on a flat rock in the sun, our legs drying as we shared a granola bar and watched dragonflies zip over the surface of the water.

For a while, neither of us said anything. The only sound was the hiss of water over stones, the occasional birdcall, and our own breathing, in and out, perfectly in sync. I thought about saying something deep and meaningful, about how grateful I was to be here, alive, with her. But the moment didn’t need it. It was enough, more than enough, just to be.

On the hike back up, Hannah let me set the pace. I stopped often, pretending to tie my shoe or read a trail sign, but mostly I just wanted to drag out the time with her, to make it last. She seemed to understand, didn’t even check her watch. When we finally reached the car, she turned to me and said, “You know what’s next on the itinerary?”

“The Ocean Center?” She grinned, then kissed me hard, her hand finding my hip and holding me there. “You,” she said in a tone that made me quiver. “You’re next.” The taste of her mouth was sweet and earthy, with a hint of the donut sugar from earlier. I kissed her back, matching her hunger with my own.

The drive back to the hotel was quiet, both of us sated and sunburned, the valley slipping away behind us. Hannah reached over and took my hand, lacing our fingers together on the console. She held on all the way back, not letting go even once, not until we pulled into the parking lot and she looked over at me with a smile so honest and open I felt myself falling in love all over again. “This is the best day,” I said, because sometimes you just have to say the obvious. Hannah nodded, the smile not leaving her face. “It’s only going to get better,” she promised with a hint of desire in her voice.
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I was originally going to include the whole day as a chapter and it ended up being a little over 5,000 words. So, I split it into 3 smaller chapters. No seed for a future story planted here, but for those of you interested in historic battles, the Iao Needle is the site of one and the story according to Wikipedia was mildly interesting.

I want to visit Hawaii for real now and see the places I'm writing about :rofl:
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Re: Two Hearts, One Wedding

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Chapter Tags: FF
Content Warnings: Lesbian shower sex
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At first I had them just shower real quick after hiking then go to the Ocean Center, but then I thought "what if Hannah decided to go off schedule in a very Wendy way?" The result: :hot: :hot: :sweat: :sweat:

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Chapter 12 Shower Sex

Back in the hotel room, Hannah all but ordered me into the shower with her. “We’re going to smell like mud and stream rot,” she declared. Her tone suggested it was more for naked shower sex. I followed her into the shower without argument, peeling off clothes still damp from the hike. Hannah’s look as she watched me strip was somewhere between predatory and reverent, that soft hunger I’d come to crave. The shower was built for two, with a rainfall head and a bench at the far end.

She turned on the water and it came out cold, making us yelp and jump. The next second it heated up, steaming the glass and beading on our flushed skin. Hannah reached for the hotel soap but I intercepted her hand. “Let me,” I said, and lathered my palms before running them over her arms, shoulders, chest. Her body was still sun-warm from the hike; the water made her freckles bloom brighter. She let out a low noise when my hands cupped her breasts, and I pressed my body up against hers, slick and hungry, pinning her gently to the cool tile. The water sheeted off her skin, making little rivers between her breasts and down her stomach. I slid my hands over her, worshipping every inch, my own need radiating outwards.

Hannah’s mouth found mine, hot and demanding, and we kissed with the kind of urgency that made the rest of the world dissolve. She backed me against the shower bench, never breaking contact, and then she was straddling my thigh, her hands braced on my shoulders. I could feel her everywhere, the press of her breasts, the heat of her sex against my leg, her breath coming wild and sharp in my ear. My hands roamed. I caressed her hips, then found her ass and squeezed, pulling her closer. She shuddered against me, hips grinding into my thigh, and her fingers threaded into my wet hair, tilting my head back so her lips could take mine deeper, harder. The noise she made was almost a growl, fierce and hungry. I felt it all the way down through my belly, a straight shot to the place I wanted her most.

I let her take the lead, loving how her need had gone from simmer to boil. She rocked her hips, her slickness and heat leaving no doubt she wanted to dry hump my thigh. I slid my hands up Hannah’s back, drawing her in so our bodies were a single slick line. Her mouth took mine so deep I forgot I needed air. The heat of the water and the hard cold of the tile behind me made every inch of skin more alive. I kept my fingers on her ass, loving the power in the way she moved, the way she claimed my thigh with each thrust of her hips. Her breath went ragged, and she crushed her lips to my ear, biting the lobe with a desperate little whimper.

She rocked harder, her sex grinding against the muscle of my thigh, slick and burning hot. She gasped with pleasure, her hands gripping my shoulders hard enough to leave bruises. I planted my feet wide for her, holding her up, letting her use me, loving the way her control was crumbling. When her orgasm came, she timed it perfectly with a kiss on my lips and a low moan that made my sex twinge.

She stayed straddled over me, riding the aftershocks, her hair curling damp and wild around her face. I expected her to melt into my lap, but instead she slid off my leg and sank to her knees between my legs. I didn’t move, I couldn’t have if I’d wanted to. She reached up, fingers tracing the inside of my thighs, and I felt a zing of anticipation chase down my spine.

“Your turn,” she murmured. Her voice had that dangerous softness, the one that made every nerve in my body stand at attention. I dropped my head back against the tile and let out a breath I’d been holding since the hike. She started with her tongue, a slow, almost lazy drag up the inside of my thigh, pausing to nip at the spot that always made me squirm. Her hands slid under me, palms bracing my ass, kneading softly as she worked her way up. The first flick of her tongue against my sex was enough to make me whimper. I grabbed the edge of the shower bench with both hands, white knuckled, as her mouth found exactly where I needed her most.

Hannah worked me with exquisite patience. She knew my body better than I did, how every pass of her tongue built another layer of heat, how to pull away for just a second when I got too close and then drive me right back to the brink again. The steam of the shower swirled around us, beads of water running down my back and over my breasts. I couldn’t see through the glass, couldn’t hear anything but the rush of water and the wet, squishy sounds of her mouth on me. She wanted this, wanted me, and the certainty of it was intoxicating. The orgasm snuck up on me like a wave I hadn't seen coming. First I felt the tingling warmth at my center, then the sudden, delicious tightening that made my thighs clamp around her head, and finally that perfect, pulsing release that left me gasping and gripping her wet hair, my vision blurring as the shower steam and pleasure mingled into one delightful rush.

Afterward, wrapped in towels, we lay on the hotel bed for a while, catching our breath, letting our hair air dry. I felt so safe I almost fell asleep, but Hannah sat up and bounced on the mattress like a kid at a sleepover. “Ready for the next adventure?” she asked. I propped myself up on one elbow and said, “Is there a test later, or can I just audit the honeymoon?”

She smirked and swatted my bare thigh. “Get dressed, you goober. We’re hitting the aquarium. If you hurry, I’ll let you drive.” I stared at her, eyes wide. “You hate my driving.” “Not as much as I love you,” she shot back, pulling on a t-shirt. I got dressed, then Hannah and I stepped out of the hotel room onto the next adventure.
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Re: Two Hearts, One Wedding

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Chapter Tags: No sex, story
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Chapter 13 Trouble In Paradise?

The Maui Ocean Center was perfect. Each exhibit was clean and thoughtfully arranged, and the whole place smelled like clean salt, not fish. A tank near the entrance held a forest of swaying kelp. Bright yellow tangs and black-and-white Moorish idols flitted in and out of the stalks. I pressed my face to the glass, hypnotized, and for a second I felt like a kid again.

Hannah pointed out every species she recognized, reading the plaques out loud with a voice part tour guide, part first grader on a field trip. “This one’s called a boxfish,” she explained, “because it looks like a box.” I snickered. “I could have been a marine biologist if the job was just naming things.”

She grinned and took my hand, lacing our fingers as we wandered. We moved from tank to tank, each one a window into another universe: anemones waving like tiny ballet dancers, sea horses tangled together in orange knots, a shark pup the size of my forearm curled in a sandy alcove. At every exhibit, there was always a kid with their face pressed closer, their parent filming everything on a phone. The parents were mostly checked out, but the kids were rapt, screaming “Whoa!” with every new fish.

It was in the central hall that we found the sign: “Special Exhibit: Aquatic Romance, Valentine’s Month Edition.” I looked at Hannah. She looked at me, and then we both started laughing. The sign was over the top pink, with little hearts and a cartoon sea turtle winking seductively. “I dare you to go in first,” I challenged. “You’re on,” she said, but her cheeks were already red.

Inside, the exhibit was both educational and absurd. There were life sized plastic models of sea creatures in flagrante, all tastefully blurred by cartoon bubbles. Every placard had a “Love Fact” in bold print, like “Did you know: Clownfish are all born male and some become female later in life?” or “Seahorses practice courtship dances for hours before mating!” Hannah tried to read them in a clinical, grown up way, but the more we read, the more we lost it. “Octopuses have detachable mating arms,” she read, then turned to me, deadpan: “Can you imagine?” We both doubled over.

There was a wall about the humphead wrasse, explaining how the fish could change its sex depending on the social hierarchy of the group. I stared at the bright blue, pouty-lipped fish in the display and felt a weird surge of kinship. “Is it weird I feel seen by a fish?” I asked. Hannah shrugged, “We’re all just trying to find our place in the reef.” It sounded dumb, but it also felt profound.

We lingered at a tidepool touch tank, where a staff member in a blue shirt offered to let us pet a sea cucumber. I declined, but Hannah reached in, her face alight with curiosity. “It’s so weird,” she said, “but soft.” I almost didn’t hear her. Something odd tugged at me. A little ripple of wrongness, like I’d left a stove on in another state. I couldn’t pin it down, but I felt it all the same. Hannah gave me a quizzical look. I tried to shake the feeling away then smiled. “Soft,” I repeated.

The last hall led to a glass tunnel, arched overhead, where big sharks and rays glided past in slow, graceful loops. The water threw dappled patterns over everything, and for a second it felt like we were underwater too, moving through an alien sky. I reached for Hannah’s hand and found it, squeezing tight. A stingray passed just above us, its belly creamy white, its face oddly serene.

“This is beautiful,” I said, but the words came out flat. My voice had that faraway echo it sometimes got before a panic spiral. I tried to ignore it, but the feeling was there, like something looming, waiting to pounce. “Yeah,” said Hannah, voice low. “It really is.” She studied my face, saw the way my jaw clenched. “You okay?” she asked, a thread of concern running through her smile. I nodded, too quick. “Yeah. Just…hungry…I guess.” She let it go, but the squeeze of her hand told me she didn’t believe me for a second.

Outside, the sun had gotten ruthless. It was so bright I had to squint even with sunglasses. We drove up the coast to Lahaina, the old whaling port, where the sidewalks shimmered and every step felt like moving through a convection oven. The main street was thick with tourists and the smell of grilled pineapple and sunblock. Wooden storefronts leaned together, painted in cheerful colors bleached pale by salt and sun.

We drifted from shop to shop, collecting small treasures. Hannah bought a glass charm for her keychain, shaped like a whale tail. I picked up a postcard for Zoe, already writing the joke caption in my head. I tried to forget about the weird hum in my brain, but it kept poking at me, a mosquito just out of sight.

We walked all the way down Front Street, the heat radiating up through my sandals and my skin shiny with sweat. At the end of the block, the ocean rolled in, the blue so deep it hurt to look at. I turned to say something witty to Hannah, but my attention snagged on a rack of brochures outside a closed wedding chapel.

One of the brochures had a smiling Hawaiian woman on it, surrounded by orchids and pastel pink linens. “Michelle Akana: Wedding Planning with Aloha,” the front read. I choked on a laugh, suddenly remembering Zoe’s words from the drive to the wedding venue: “Some people pay for that kind of thing.”

I showed the brochure to Hannah. “See? You could have outsourced the entire wedding to someone named Michelle and saved yourself a year of agony.” She groaned, “I would never have trusted anyone else. Michelle would have spelled your name wrong on all the napkins and not even cared.” I laughed so hard I nearly dropped the pamphlet. For a second, I could see it all: us back home, the chaos of the planning, the way Hannah micromanaged every detail but still made it feel like an adventure. I missed it already. Or maybe I just missed knowing what the next day held.

And right then, an idea hatched in my brain so fully formed it was like an egg cracked and a chicken walked out, ready for business. “Oh my god,” I said, “What if we did it? Not just you and me, but all of us. Zoe. Aisha. The wedding planning thing. Together.” The words fell out so fast I had to stop for breath. Hannah blinked, squinting in the glare. “You mean, like, a business? We’d be wedding planners?” She sounded skeptical, but not dismissive.

I could see it, almost cinematic. “Listen! You’d do the organization, obviously. Zoe would handle décor, invitations, and all the visual stuff. She’s basically a color wheel with legs. Aisha would do finances for contract negotiation and logistics. And I’d do the people part. The talking and the handholding and the social glue.” Hannah’s skeptical look faded, replaced by something sharper, more alive. “You’ve really thought about this.”

I shook my head excitedly, “No! I’m literally making it up right now. But it makes sense, right? We already survived a full wedding together. We even had a hostile mother-in-law, an emotional meltdown, and the uninvited ex-girlfriend. If we could get through that, we could get through anything.”

She looked thoughtful for a few moments, and I could tell she was running scenarios through her mind. “I’d do it,” she said after thinking, “Aisha would too I think, but what about Zoe?” I nodded, “If you told her she could have business cards and an unlimited art supply budget, she’d be in yesterday.”

Hannah’s laugh was soft but deep, the kind that came from somewhere below the ribs. “You know, that actually sounds… fun. Even if we only did it part-time. Or just a couple events a year, when we’re all not in school.” She was thinking about it, really thinking, and the possibility made me a little dizzy. “Let’s ask them when we get back,” I suggested. Hannah nodded in agreement.

A breeze came up, cool and sudden, bringing the ocean air right into my chest. It should have calmed me, but instead it made me shiver. I didn’t want to ruin the moment, so I kept the brochure, tucking it into my bag as if it might save me from whatever was lurking in the shadows of my mind. Hannah looped her arm through mine and pulled me close. “You okay?” she asked again. This time, I tried to mean it. “Yeah,” I said. “I really am.”

We wandered the waterfront, stopping for shave ice at a stand painted like a tie dye fever dream. We picked the rainbow flavor, just because, and ate it side by side on a bench. The cold syrup turned my tongue blue, and Hannah kissed me until the color transferred to her lips. For the rest of the day, we let ourselves be simple. We walked, talked, watched the world move around us. Hannah made plans for dinner and I let her, knowing it was her way of staying sane.

But even as I laughed and joked, the feeling stayed. The wrongness. The sense that something was coming. I tried to ignore it, but it was patient, and I knew it would wait as long as it had to. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe it was just what happened when a person got everything she ever wanted. But maybe, just maybe, it was the universe, clearing its throat, reminding me that life isn’t perfect.

“Hey,” Hannah looked at me with concern, “I’m here when you’re ready to talk.” I shook my head. “I don’t know what this is,” I admitted. “Maybe the wedding brochure messed with me?” Hannah shook her head, “You haven’t been fully yourself since before then.” I shrugged and explained, “It’s a feeling I’ve got, not a flashback or a memory, but something similar. Something’s wrong, but I don’t know what.”

Hannah studied my face then rubbed my cheek with her hand. “Dive into the feeling,” she suggested. “I’m here if it becomes too much.” I closed my eyes and focused on the unsettling feeling I had instead of avoiding it. After a few minutes, my eyes popped open. “Zoe,” I said, “I think she’s in trouble.” Hannah looked at me thoughtfully. “Call her if you’re worried.” I nodded, “Good idea.” I pulled up her contact on my phone and hit the call button. The phone rang and rang, and for a second I worried she wouldn’t pick up. Maybe she was working. Maybe she was asleep. Maybe…

“Wendy?” Zoe’s voice was strange, flat, like she’d just woken up or maybe hadn’t slept at all. “Zoe!” I said, too loud. “Are you okay? You sound weird.” There was a long pause. A rush of wind on her end gave me a few seconds of windblown feedback. Then, flatly she said “I’m ok. Surprised you’re calling me while on the honeymoon.” I could feel in my gut that wasn’t the real reason for her flat tone, but if I called her out on it she might shut me out. I decided to pitch the idea instead.

“I have an idea,” I said, “and it’s so good I almost peed myself. You, me, Hannah, and Aisha start a wedding planning business. For real. Like, part time until we all finish school, and then we could pause it if we had to, but we’d be amazing at it.” There was a long silence, during which I could hear her breathing along with another gust of wind. I realized, suddenly, that my hands were shaking. “Wen,” she said, and now her voice was soft. “That’s actually…perfect.” I tried to think of something else to say, something light, but my voice caught. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Zoe’s voice sounded more like herself, “I’m just tired,” she said and I could tell that was true. “But this idea, it’s a good one. I’m glad you called, Wendy.” There was a short pause, “I’d better get going. Gotta study for a test.” I said goodbye and hung up. I sat there a long time, phone balanced in my palm, staring at the screen like it might reveal some secret. Hannah gently pulled the phone away. She rested her head on my shoulder. “Is Zoe ok?” “I don’t know,” I whispered. “She said yes to the business, but…I just have this feeling. Maybe I’m just being silly,” I conceded.

Hannah took my face in her hands. “You’re not being silly. You’re being you.” She kissed my nose affectionately and continued, “If it turns out to be something, I’ll help you both however I can.” I nodded, the feeling already easing away. “Thank you, sorry this is affecting our honeymoon.” She gave me a light kiss. “You would do the same for me if it was Aisha or someone I cared about.”

That night, back in our hotel room, I checked my phone one last time. Nothing from Zoe. Nothing at all, and the uneasy feeling was gone. Hannah watched me from the bed. “Come here,” she said, soft as a sigh. I put my phone on the nightstand, determined not to check it again until morning. We were four hours behind, which meant it was past midnight back home.

I crawled in bed beside Hannah and let her pull me close, our bodies tangled under the sheets. We pleasured each other and I allowed myself to fully embrace and enjoy it. Afterward as I lay on her chest, drifting off to sleep, the last feeling I had was hope. I hoped that whatever storms were waiting, we’d face them together.
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