As he approached the house, he saw Mrs. Avery through the window, pacing the kitchen, phone pressed to her ear. Dick could tell from the way she moved—stiff, tense—something wasn't right. He knocked lightly on the door, not wanting to startle her. A few moments later, the door opened, and there she was, her usual grace a bit frayed around the edges. Her blonde hair was pulled back loosely, strands falling out around her face, and there was a tiredness in her green eyes.
"Hey, Dick," she greeted, her voice soft but worn. "Come in."
He stepped inside, noticing the empty glass of wine on the kitchen counter. She reduced her intake of wine during the last few weeks, but it had become more frequent again it seemed. He didn't say anything about it.
"Everything alright?" he asked, watching her carefully as she closed the door behind him.
She sighed, leaning against the counter, fingers drumming on the edge. "Rick's not coming home this weekend. Again." Her tone was bitter, but there was a resigned acceptance behind it, like she'd stopped expecting anything different.
Dick didn't respond right away, just walked over to the counter and picked up the wine glass, holding it out to her. "You want more?"
She gave him a small smile, one that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Why not?"
He poured her another glass, the red liquid swirling in the light. When he handed it back, their fingers brushed, just for a moment. She held his gaze longer than usual, and for the first time, it wasn't just about casual conversation or light touches. There was something else there, something unspoken but heavy, hanging in the air between them.
"Thanks," she said, taking a sip and setting the glass down again. "I don't know why I keep doing this to myself. Waiting for him to show up like something's going to change. I shouldn't expect, given he has a new—" She shook her head.
"You deserve better," Dick said simply, his voice low.
Rebecca set the glass down with a soft clink, her hand resting on the counter as she turned to face him fully. "Sometimes I wonder if it's too late to start over. Too late to... I don't know, find something different."
Dick took a step closer, closing the space between them just a little. "It's not too late," he said, his voice steady. "You've still got time."
She let out a breath, a small, shaky laugh escaping her lips. "I don't know any other life. No friends, no hobbies. I'm stuck in this loneliness."
Dick moved closer, the space between them disappearing. His arm wrapped around her without hesitation, pulling her into him. She didn't resist, instead letting her head rest on his shoulder, feeling the firmness of his body beneath his clothes. The change in him was stark—just a month ago, they'd been almost eye-to-eye. Now, he towered over her, his presence stronger, more imposing.
Rebecca's breath hitched slightly as she felt the warmth of his body. "It's strange," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "I look at you now and... I barely recognize the boy I used to know."
Dick didn't say anything at first, letting the silence settle between them, the faint hum of the fridge the only sound in the kitchen.His hand moved up, fingers gently tracing the line of her spine, and he could feel her shiver under his touch.
"You've changed too," he said quietly, his lips near her ear. "You're not the same woman I remember."
Rebecca pulled back slightly, enough to look up at him, her eyes searching his. "Maybe," she said, a sad smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "But I don't feel like it. I feel... stuck. Like I've been standing still while everything else moved around me."
Dick's hand didn't leave her back, keeping her anchored to him. "You don't have to be stuck anymore."
She blinked, her gaze dropping for a moment, and he could see the conflict flickering behind her eyes. She wanted something—needed something—but the fear was holding her back. Her fingers twisted slightly in the fabric of his shirt, like she was holding on to him for balance.
"I wouldn't even know where to start," she admitted, her voice soft and raw. "How do you... how do you just change everything? After all this time?"
Dick's grip tightened just a little, his voice calm. "You don't have to change everything at once. Just... one thing at a time. One step."
Rebecca swallowed hard, her hand slowly sliding up his chest, fingers brushing over his collarbone. "And if I don't know what that step is?"
He leaned in, his forehead almost touching hers, their breaths mingling in the small space between them. "How about you change your loneliness? Forget Rick. Embrace Dick."
Rebecca's breath hitched, surprise and something else flashing in her eyes. She didn't pull away. If anything, she leaned in closer, her body responding before her mind had a chance to catch up. Her fingers gripped his shirt, knuckles turning white as she searched for any trace of hesitation on his face. But there was none—just that calm, unrelenting confidence she hadn't seen in him before.
"I... I can't," she whispered, her voice faltering.
"Sure, you can," Dick replied softly, his lips grazing her ear. "No one's here to stop you."
Rebecca's pulse quickened, the heat between them undeniable. She swallowed hard, torn between the guilt that gnawed at her and the intense pull she felt toward him. "It's not that simple," she murmured, though her hands betrayed her words, slipping from his shirt to rest against his chest.
"It is." Dick's voice was steady, controlled. His hand slipped from her back, trailing down to her waist. "You deserve more than waiting around for someone who doesn't even see you."
Rebecca's lips parted slightly, a quiet exhale escaping her as she looked up at him. "And what... what do you see?"
He leaned into her ear, his breath warm against her skin. "I see a beautiful, sexy woman who deserves all the love she's been denied."
Rebecca's chest rose with a sharp inhale, her fingers curling into his shirt as his words sank in. He was so close now, his presence overwhelming, the space between them practically nonexistent. For a moment, she said nothing, her mind waging war with itself, but her body betrayed her, leaning closer, seeking the warmth he offered.
Dick's hand slid down her waist, settling at the curve of her hip, fingers pressing just enough to remind her that he was there, solid and real. "You don't have to be lonely anymore," he murmured, his lips grazing the edge of her jaw. "Not tonight."
Rebecca trembled, her breath catching in her throat. She wanted to push him away, to retreat behind the walls she'd spent years building, but the craving for connection was too strong. It had been too long since someone looked at her the way he did, since someone made her feel like she wasn't invisible.
"Dick..." she whispered, her voice barely audible, but the way her body pressed into him spoke volumes.
He tilted her chin up with a gentle touch, forcing her to meet his gaze. His eyes, dark and intense, locked onto hers, and she couldn't look away. "You don't have to say anything," he said quietly, his thumb brushing over her bottom lip. "Just let me take care of you."
Rebecca's heart pounded in her chest, each beat louder than the last. The room felt smaller, the air thicker, like every breath was a struggle. But in that moment, nothing else mattered. Not Rick, not the guilt, not the years of feeling like she was fading into the background. Here, now, with Dick standing so close, the rest of the world melted away.
She swallowed hard, her resolve crumbling as she closed the distance between them, her lips brushing his in a hesitant kiss. Dick didn't hesitate. He responded instantly, deepening the kiss, his hand tightening around her waist, pulling her against him. The taste of wine lingered on her lips, sweet and bitter at the same time.
For a moment, the world stood still, and all she could feel was the heat between them, the way his body pressed against hers, firm and unyielding. She'd forgotten what it was like to feel wanted, to feel seen. And now, with him, she wasn't just the dutiful wife that was cast aside, waiting for a husband who never came home—she was something more.
The kiss broke, but their foreheads stayed pressed together, their breaths mingling in the charged silence that followed. Rebecca's hands slid up his chest, fingers brushing over the muscles beneath his shirt. "This... this feels wrong," she whispered, though she didn't pull away.
"Does it?" Dick asked, his voice low, his hand tracing the curve of her hip. "Because it feels pretty damn right to me."
Her breath hitched again, her body betraying her hesitation. "It's just... I'm not—" She stopped, her words catching in her throat.
Dick silenced her with another kiss, this one slower, more deliberate, as if he was savoring every second of it. His hand slid up her back, his touch firm but careful, and she melted into him, letting go of the last thread of resistance she'd been holding onto.
When they broke apart again, Rebecca's lips were swollen, her cheeks flushed, and her heart racing. She opened her mouth to say something—anything—but Dick's finger pressed against her lips, silencing her. "Don't overthink it," he whispered. "Just feel."
Rebecca closed her eyes, letting out a shaky breath. She didn't have the strength to argue, not when every part of her was screaming for something—someone—to fill the void that had been growing inside her for years.
Dick's hand moved lower, fingers grazing the hem of her shirt before slipping underneath, his touch warm against her skin. Rebecca gasped softly, her head tilting back slightly as his hand explored the curve of her waist, the small of her back.
He leaned in, his lips brushing the sensitive skin just below her ear. "You've been alone for too long," he whispered, his voice like velvet, smooth and irresistible. "Let me fix that."
Rebecca's pulse quickened, her skin tingling under his touch. She knew she should stop this, should pull away before it went any further, but the thought of returning to her empty house, her empty life, was unbearable. And here, now, with Dick, she didn't feel empty. She felt alive.
Her hands gripped his shirt tighter, pulling him closer, her lips finding his again, more desperate this time, more certain. Dick responded in kind, his hand slipping further up her back, his touch possessive, claiming.
As the kiss deepened, Rebecca let herself forget—forget about Rick, forget about the years of disappointment and loneliness. For once, she wasn't thinking about what was right or wrong. She was just feeling.
And it felt damn good.
Dick's hand slipped under her shirt, tracing the line of her spine, and Rebecca moaned quietly, the sound catching in her throat. His touch was firm, sure, each stroke igniting a spark that raced through her body. She leaned into him, her breasts pressing against his chest, seeking more contact, more heat.
"You're so beautiful," he murmured against her neck, his breath warm and uneven. His fingers found the clasp of her bra, deftly releasing it. Her breasts spilled into his waiting hand, and she gasped, arching into his touch. "So perfect."
He kissed her collarbone, working his way up to her ear, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin. "Tell me what you like," he whispered, his other hand cupping her face, tilting it back to give him better access.
"I... I like that," she managed, her voice thick with desire. He chuckled slowly, his thumb stroking her bottom lip.
"Good," he said, his mouth moving to hers again. Their kisses grew more urgent, their bodies molding together in a silent dance of need and want.
Dick's hand slid up her thigh, under her skirt, his fingertips grazing the edge of her panties. Rebecca's legs trembled, and she wrapped her arms around his neck for support, her hips moving against his touch. "More," she whispered, her eyes drifting shut.
He chuckled again, the sound vibrating through her, and she felt his hand move away, leaving her wanting. "Patience," he said, his breath hot against her skin. "We've got all night."
Rebecca's eyes flew open, and she stared at him, her chest heaving. "Please," she begged, the word barely a whisper.
He met her gaze, his eyes dark and full of promise. "I know what you need," he murmured, his hand moving back to her thigh. He slid his fingers under the fabric, his touch teasing, so close to where she needed him.
Her breathing grew ragged, each exhale a small whine of pleasure. Dick's mouth followed the path of his hand, kissing and nipping at her neck, her shoulder, the swell of her breasts. She could feel the heat of his erection against her stomach.
"Tell me," he said, his voice a low growl. "Tell me what you want."
Rebecca's eyes fluttered closed, and she moaned, her voice strained. "You. Just... you."
Dick's hand slipped inside her panties, his fingertips brushing her clit, and she jerked, a sharp cry escaping her lips. "Here?" he asked, his voice filled with amusement.
"Yes," she panted, her hips rolling against his hand. "There."