Just The Three Of Us #12
Brad Knows Best
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When my front doorbell rang, we were about to enjoy a massive pizza, segmented with toppings each of us preferred. I sat up in bed, my lovers beside me to my left and right, my daughter Sara cradled in my arms, her bottom perched cutely atop her unborn sibling. She suckled gently on my nipple, enjoying a good feed.
Brad leaped out of bed to see who was at my front door. I panicked momentarily, because he was half naked, wearing only boxer briefs, but then I thought, what the fuck? Why do I care what anyone thinks? Some may think I should live the rest of my days wearing black, mourning, but my life and Jack’s memory were worth more than the befuddled opinions of a few zealots and prudes.
After her husband left, Jodie stared intently at Sara, then at me.
“Family over fantasy, then, Ciara?”