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Story: Art of Convenience

Fine.

Miles Simp Daddy Cameron has a much better ring to it anyway.

“Camila!”We haven’t left the house in three days. We’ve barely left the bedroom, save for a few times to refuel.

“I’m in the bedroom.” Her voice fills the hallway.

When I find her wearing real clothes I stop in the doorway, coffees in hand. She’s tying up her converse when she notices my confused face.

“Hey, Taylor ended up getting the whole day off last minute, so I’m going to help her pack up the rest of my stuff.”

I think my face physically falls at the idea of her leaving, which is unbelievable considering only a few months ago I regarded a relationship on par with non-medicated mouth surgery. But Camila still refers to our home asmyhome and I want to remedy that as soon as possible. So I guess the sooner she moves the rest of her things out of her old apartment and into this one, the sooner she might start calling it her home too.

She steps up to me and I hand her a coffee, she takes a sip and moans around the cup with her eyes closed.

“Don’t moan like that.”

“Like what?” She exaggerates a loud sigh.

“Cock tease.”

She lets out a small laugh and kisses my lips. “I’ll be home to soothe you and your cock later.”

“We’ll be waiting.” I bite her bottom lip before stealing one last kiss from her.

She hurries past me. I watch my wife look back over her shoulder at me and give me one of those real genuine smiles and goddamn do I love to see it.

CAMILA

“Oh my god! Lookwhat I found,” I yell from the back of a very full, very tiny closet. Taylor looks over to me from her pile of boxes and I hold up our sequin shirt. I sayoursbecause it was an incredible find years ago, and it turned out to be the sisterhood of the traveling top because it somehow fit both of us and we’ve both worn it multiple times over the years.

“I knew I didn’t leave that gem at some random guy’s house,” she says, catching it from across the room. “You should keep it.”

“Absolutely not.” I shake my head. “That shirt is all you.” She sits it down in her lap and looks around the room longingly. “Taylor,” I whine, “I feel terrible.”

Her hands immediately fly up to stop me, “No. I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a hundred times, you donotneed to feel bad.”

I nod my head over and over again, trying to will myself not to cry.

“Come here.” She pats the bed beside her and I crawl up sitting next to her, dropping my head on her shoulder.

“I’m going to miss you terribly. But it’s not like I won’t see you anymore,” she says.

“I know, I just feel bad leaving you here.” I can’t help it, but the tear I’ve been holding in burns so bad now. I blink causing it to roll down my cheek.

“Well, your husband so graciously footed our rent till the end of our lease, so I know you can’t feel guilty about that.”

“What will you do when the lease is up? My offer still stands,” I say, sitting up to look at her. “You can move into the guest room, you would die for the kitchen.”

“You’re trying to tease me with kitchen porn and it’s cruel,”she jokes.

“Okay then, I have to know your game plan. It’s going to eat at me, Tay. You know this.” I wipe away my tears and take a calming breath.

“That I do, my little angel baby, that I do.” She reaches across me and grabs a tissue from the nightstand and hands it to me. “Honestly Mila, I’m getting kind of antsy here anyway. Maybe when my lease is up, I don’t know, maybe I’ll travel for a bit or something.”

“You have always wanted to travel.”

“See, whatever will be will be.” She wraps her arm around my shoulder and pulls me in tight. “Either way, no matter where we are, where we live, or where we end up, you and I will always be good. We’ll always be Whisky and Risky, baby.”