Love to Hate You: Three's a Crowd

Chapter Thirty-four - VIP Treatment

Mattie and Rafe were sickeningly loved-up. At least, Mattie was. Rafe was definitely "loved-up" but he didn't do "sickeningly" anything, so he just carried on being a grumpy arse and a sarcastic sod, whilst secretly doting on his wife and not-quite-so-secretly basking in the glow of a man well-orgasmsed. Things had changed of course, and not just Mattie's work hours, but how the couple spent their free time, too. In order to improve their verbal communication, Mattie's therapist had suggested that she and Rafe might like to have date nights without sex. Rafe was naturally baffled by the idea, and Mattie had been aghast, too (he did have the body of an absolute Adonis!), but they'd given it a go in the hope that date nights without sex would somehow ensure that they would remain happily married until Rafe died of old age.

Of course, date nights without sex were not worthy of a Friday or Saturday night – no siree – so Mattie and Rafe were confined to a school night date night, which typically meant feeding the kids (Rafe would cook, because he was capable of doing more than reheating frozen food), and sending them to bed with the promise of a Friday treat if they didn't disturb Mummy or Daddy for the rest of the evening. Then the May-December couple (except that it was more like July-October, because Mattie was no longer that young and Rafe didn't really seem to age at all) would hole up in their bedroom half clothed – so as to allow plenty of skin-to-skin contact – and drink wine whilst nibbling on cheese and nuts. Rafe wished Mattie would nibble on his nut (singular), but alas, they weren't allowed to have sex.

They'd talk about their boys, about work, about Mattie's day off. About holidays they might take and awful gifts he might buy her. They'd gossip about their friends and family and eventually, once Mattie was settled in between Rafe's legs, facing away from him so that they didn't have to look one another in the eye, Rafe would brush and plait Mattie's hair whilst they discussed their feelings. Emotional ones and not genital ones. Rafe didn't mind their date nights really. He'd prefer that they involved sex, but it was nice just to talk without a TV or phone to distract them. But the feelings part was tedious. It made him uncomfortable. He also thought once a week was too much, because he didn't have noteworthy emotional feelings once a week. Certainly not always new ones. But still, he didn't want to fail his wife, so he told her secrets. Things like, "I sometimes worry that my hair might start thinning. That I'll go bald, have to shave it all off, and that I'll look old. Properly old, where I'm too old for you. What if I can't get you wet anymore?' Of course, Mattie knew that he wasn't really worried about the moisture levels of her vagina, but that he was voicing insecurities about their age gap and how it could become more apparent over time. She appreciated him making himself vulnerable to her but it was such a load of bollocks. Or bollock.

'Don't be ridiculous!' she told him. 'You've got the thickest hair I've seen. Even Toby has a full head of hair and if a beta male like him can avoid baldness, you definitely can. Besides, you'd rock a bald head. It wouldn't make you look old at all. No, if anyone should be worrying, it should be me. I might not look my age, but I do look older than when we first met, and I'm not honestly sure I can say the same for you. Eventually I'm going to look the same age as you, and then you might trade me in for a younger model!' This last an empty fear, because she knew he'd never want anyone else. And that, she supposed, was the most important thing. That she was utterly secure in his love, even if he expressed that love in snarky or over-sexualised ways.

Then she'd offer up her own feelings. Something deep and poignant, like, –

'I didn't appreciate the way you scoffed at my choice of reading material the other day. It made me feel a bit... low-brow. Like you were patronising me.' Rafe's lips twisted, but his fingers still worked nimbly in her hair.

'The Sense and Sensibility follow-on fanfiction, you mean?' he clarified, with a neutral voice.

'Yes.'