Never A Saint (COMPLETE)

Twenty-Seven: Saint Morseti

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She grabbed my arm, hugging it as she laid her head on my shoulder.

I lifted her dress, letting my hand settle between her thighs.

She chewed her lip.

"Mind yourself, you're wearing lipstick." I whispered.

"Shit." She sat up, looking at her teeth in the mirror, cleaning the lipstick on her teeth.

But luckily it was matte and didn't smudge much.

She relaxed and grabbed onto my arm again.

Anxiety held onto my chest.

I hated restaurants. Being a guest at one. Not working where I didn't have to speak.

I'd learn to be alright. To try to keep myself calm so I can still converse with my wife.

"Are you sure you're okay with going out?" She asked.

"I am the one who always asks-"

"That doesn't mean anything. That means you don't want me to feel trapped. That means nothing for you." She mumbled.

I nodded.

"I don't want you to be uncomfortable the entire time. You look uncomfortable now. I can't imagine when we are in there." She frowned.

She sat up, grabbing the other side of my face as she pressed her lips to my cheek.

"We don't have to go. Let's do something funner." She smiled.

"What?" I whispered.

She hummed, thinking.

"I'm not sure. But something that lets you talk." She looked at me and I frowned.

Then I had an idea and changed route.

I drove to the store and she looked confused.

I opened her door, leaning down to fix her dress down.

Then she stood.

We went inside and she held my hand as I held a small basket in my other.

I went to the section with bathing things and she smirked at me.

"Seriously?"

I nodded toward the bubble bath scents.

She picked rose salts and vanilla bubble bath.

She gasped at the bath bombs and looked at me.

I nodded.

She grabbed two pink ones.

We went to the flowers and I picked a bouquet of roses, holding them, her hand now holding onto my bicep.

She picked out all the foods she liked to eat before stopping and looking at me.

"I have a question."

I nodded.

"There are these no bake cookies I grew up with. They had... like oatmeal and the Hershey cocoa power and peanut butter with sugar in a pot heated? Do you know what I'm talking about?" She asked.

I did.

"Could you make them? I have no idea how and I loved them so much. I don't want this shit, I'm putting it back." She turned and I yanked at her dress.

She turned.

"No need for bad words." I shook my head.

"I'm sorry." She said softly before walking with less of a speed to put the stuff back.

By the end, we landed the ingredients for the cookies and a bottle of her favorite peach white wine.

"I'm so excited." She held onto me as we checked out.

I smiled to myself as the boy checking us out was nervously shoving the things in bags.

We left and I got my wife back in the car, placing the bags by her feet as I got in my side.

"I'm so excited." She smiled.

"I know." I nodded.

"Thank you." She kissed my cheek again.

"Of course."