Chelsea and Matthew spent their honeymoon in an array of laughter, passion and bliss. They ate more than was necessary, drank too much and danced until their feet hurt. It seemed like a dream staying in such a beautiful place. They did everything from snorkeling to partying, when they weren’t confined to their bungalow ripping each other’s clothes off. Ten days had gone by quickly though. Chelsea was sad to have to leave the small island. She clicked the pictures of them, smiling.
“Everything’s all packed. Are you ready?” Matthew asked.
Chelsea shook her head. “I don’t ever want to leave.”
“I know babe, but we’ll come back. We’ll go lots of places you’ve never seen before and you’ll fall in love with them just like you did with this place.”
Matthew gave her one of his amazing smiles before he kissed her. Taking her hand he led her away from the bungalow into the waiting car. They didn’t bother trying to stay up on the flight back, but leaned on each other and slept. Chelsea couldn’t stop thinking about the sound of the waves crashing into the bungalow at night. The smell of sweet island flowers, or how Matthew had made her feel happier than she ever had before.
By the time they’d touched down in Boston, Chelsea forgot her melancholy just long enough to realize she missed home. Her apartment was home, nothing could compare to that. Our apartment, she corrected herself. She glanced at her ring, happy all over again that she’d made the decision to marry Matthew.
As soon as they reached the apartment, Chelsea ordered pizza while Matthew grabbed beer. It felt good to be back to what she knew. They took the entire box, sitting it on the coffee table as they watched tv. Chelsea called Sangi and her mom just long enough to let them know she was back and that she’d post pictures tomorrow. Once she was off the phone, she curled up next to Matthew on the couch.
He buried his face in her hair, smelling the strawberry shampoo she always used. Running an arm around her waist, he pulled her in tighter. Chelsea smiled. The feel of his body pressed up against hers was the safest thing she’d ever felt.
“Are you ready to go back to work tomorrow?” He asked.
She shook her head. “Can’t we just live on the road, never work again?”
He scoffed playfully. “What would we do on the road Mrs. Rawlins? How do you propose we’d survive?”
Chelsea rolled over to face him. “I’d sell my paintings, you’d play your violin and we’d fuck everyday, all day until we were sick of each other.”
Matthew laughed. “Let’s do it. I’d never get sick of you though.”
Chelsea laughed as they wrapped up in each other. He kissed her softly, making her melt against his body. His hand started working his around her back, the fingers pulling her bra apart.
“What are you doing?” She asked breathlessly.
“The honeymoon’s not over until we have to go back to work.”
“I agree,” she said quietly. He kissed her once more. They spent the evening on the couch.
Chelsea groaned as an alarm played in her dream. It was loud, blaring. She slapped Matthew’s arm a few times until he groaned himself. The sound stopped before she felt him shift near her. He shook her shoulder softly.
“Time for work.”
“I don’t wanna,” she said groggily.
“Come on.”
Matthew pulled her from the couch before he led her to the bathroom. He adjusted the shower for them as she stripped out of her clothes slowly, Sleeping on the couch had been a bad idea. Her back was sore and stiff as she tried to shed her clothes. Matthew helped her out of her shirt before they stepped into the shower together.
“I close on that big property today, if everything goes well. Want to celebrate afterwards?”
“Does celebrating involve leaving the apartment?”
Matthew laughed as he pulled her wet body against his. “Not if you don’t want it to.”
If Chelsea had thought the attention on her and Matthew’s relationship was bad before, it got even worse when they walked into work on Monday. People didn’t seem to want to talk about anything else besides the wedding, where’d they go on their honeymoon, when they were going to have kids.
“Never,” Chelsea said jokingly.
“Awww, you don’t want babies?” One of her co-worker’s asked.
“Not for a long time,” she said before she excused herself to slip into her office.
Chelsea settled behind her desk before turning on her computer. She had a list of emails she hadn’t even dared to look at while she was taking her vacation days. She scrolled through them now, wishing that she’d at least waded through them a little. There was a knock on her door.
“Come in,” she called absently.
The door swung open slowly revealing Mr. Whitehill. He walked into the room slowly before he settled into one of her chairs. The man was out of breath again. She wondered how fast he’d come running once he realized that she was back.