LOGIN*Kiera* “Okay, what exactly did he say?” Marissa takes the beer and two jumbo soft pretzels I offer her as we navigate through the throngs of excited basketball fans. It's the first home game for the Knicks in a while, and the buzz in Madison Square Garden is electric. “Did you hear that?” I ask Frida, pointing to the court, where players are warming up. Frida’s eyes light up, her face painted with a bright pink heart, and I can’t help but smile as I see her excitement. “Yeah, yeah, we heard it,” Marissa rolls her eyes playfully, adjusting the Knicks cap perched on her head. “But seriously, what did he say?” I thank the concession stand attendant, slipping our bottles of water and a bag of cotton candy into the backpack attached to Frida’s wheelchair. Giving her a gentle push, we weave through the crowd toward our seats. We’re early enough to catch the tail end of warm-ups, and I can’t wait to see Frida’s reaction when the game starts. “So, did he give any indication of how slow
*Will* She opens her mouth to speak just as the waiter appears. “Hey there! How are we doin’ over here? Oooh, looks like we’re still working on those mains. Can I get either of you a refresh on your drinks?” “We need a minute,” Kiera says, her gaze locked on me. The waiter looks confused, “But you called me over…” “Sorry about that,” Kiera cries. “We need a fucking minute. Please and thank you.” The waiter disappears, and I can’t help but smile. She groans, dragging a hand over her face. “Fuck, that was so rude.” “I’ll tip him generously,” I reply, still smiling. Kiera doesn’t smile. “You were saying?” “We can’t go backwards,” I repeat. “Whatever hand of fate led us here, we are here. We’re in this moment. We’re married, sharing custody of a child … and you’re in love with me. If it’s all the same to you, I’d like to see if I could maybe figure this love out too.” Slowly, she shakes her head. “What if you can’t? Will, I won’t survive it …” I take some cash
*Kiera* What the actual fuck is happening right now? I glare across the table at Will. “What are you doing?” “I think the technical term is flirting.” I blink, my vision spinning like I just took a punch to the fucking head. There are a lot of thoughts and emotions swirling in my mind, but only one coherent word pops out. “Why?” He shrugs, taking a sip of his beer. “This is a date, right? We’ve never been on a real fancy date before. I know it was orchestrated by Candy, and I know we have an audience, but I’m still here with you, sharing this nice meal. It’s customary to flirt on a date, no?” I groan, sinking back in my chair. “Will, come on. I don’t need you to pity flirt with me. That’s just fucking depressing.” He arches a brow. “What pity?” “I don’t want you flirting with me because you have to or because you think it’s what you’re supposed to do on a date.” “Then when am I allowed to flirt with you?” I’m fucking reeling. “What?” He gestures around. “If
*Will*As we are eating, listening to the entertainment of the event I can’t help but thinking about me and us… how I feel about everything.And I’ve researched the term Demisexuality. It’s under the asexual spectrum, a rather broad term, covering everything from those who seek no sexual touch ever to people who engage in casual sex sometimes and those who may not express sensual feelings until a deeper relationship is established first.The more I read, the more the label seems to fit me. The article last night talked of primary versus secondary sexual attraction. Apparently, primary attraction happens at first sight. You can look at a person, even a stranger on the street, and feel attracted to them. I’m not sure I’ve ever felt that before. Aesthetically, I may look at someone and admire their beauty. But I admire them with the same feeling of joy or excitement as seeing a sunset or a stag standing in the snow.I glance across the table at Kiera again. Aesthetically, she’s very plea
*Will*I’m dressed in a tailored suit, the fabric smooth against my skin, and I can’t help but feel a mix of nervous energy and excitement as I check my reflection in the mirror. Kiera is in the other room, probably trying on the beautiful dress I know she picked out for tonight. Candy, my company’s PR manager, has gone all out with the planning, ensuring that everything is just right for this high-profile event. The goal is simple: to showcase our ‘perfect’ marriage to the world yet again.But tonight isn’t just about the facade. It's about Kiera, and I genuinely want her to feel special. I want her to see that I’m not just a man playing a role… I’m someone who admires her, who feels drawn to her in ways I never expected.“Will! How do I look?” Kiera’s voice brings me back to the moment, and I turn to see her stepping out of the bedroom, a stunning red dress clinging to her curves perfectly. The fabric shimmers under the soft glow of our apartment’s lights, and my breath catches.“Yo
*Kiera* As we pull into the parking garage, a surge of excitement washes over me. The last couple of days feels like a montage of joyful moments, and I can hardly wait to see how Frida will bloom with Webby. I glance at her, and her face is lit up with that same infectious grin, the anticipation palpable. “Okay, Frida, let’s get you sorted for bath time,” I say as we step out of the car. Webby, nestled in her lap, wiggles with enthusiasm, his tiny tail a blur of golden fluff. Frida nods, her determination shining bright. “I want him to be there with me,” she insists, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “He can’t miss my first bath with him.” I chuckle and shake my head. “Okay, but he can’t be in the shower with you. Just in the bathroom so he can cheer you on.” “Deal!” she replies, her expression triumphant as she wheels herself into the elevator, Webby panting happily beside her. Once inside, I assist her in getting set up in the bathroom. The space is filled with soft pastel co
*Kiera*The car comes to a stop in the dimly lit parking basement, the engine’s hum fading into silence. I glance over at Will, his expression still a mix of contemplation and nervousness… Like he is fearing I might change my mind and start laughing at him or something. The air feels thick with ant
*Kiera*I can feel the weight of Will’s confession settling into the small space of the car. His words echo in my mind, wrapping around my heart like a vice. I want to reach out and touch him, to let him know that he’s not alone in this, but I can’t shake the feeling that any move I make could shat
*Will*The engine roars to life, and I’m grateful for the sound to fill the silence between us. I keep my gaze fixed on the road, the streetlights flickering past like the thoughts racing through my mind. Kiera’s voice lingers, echoing in my ears. She wanted me to kiss her. Hell, I wanted to kiss h
*Kiera*I wait, breathless, as that electric moment stretches out between us. The air is thick with unspoken words, and all I want is for him to close the distance. But instead, nothing happens. My heart races, a wild drum echoing in my ears, and I realize I want him to kiss me. I want it so desper







