The garage door rattled to life. Ice flooded Chloe’s veins as she jolted upright. She staggered backward from John, who began to struggle to his feet beside her. His legs were hobbled by the puddle of clothing around his ankles.
Chloe glanced back to John, panic in her brown eyes, and rummaged around to gather her things. A discarded shirt and socks… /Damn, I knew I shouldn’t take it all the way off! But those are the rules…/
The garage door finished rumbling its way to the top of the tracks. Chloe yanked her shirt down over her chest and, letting herself out into the hall, closed the door quietly behind her. John would be tidying himself, she knew, yanking his gym shorts up over his wet, swollen penis. He’d hide it by lounging on his stomach in front of his TV until the erection quelled. She crept into the bathroom to pull on her socks, wipe her face, and rinse out her mouth. Shame threatened to overwhelm her, but this was urgent. Things needed to be done. There would be time for shame later. Chloe looked up into the mirror above the sink. Her eyes were clear and bright. She smiled. The stairs up from the garage creaked. Chloe turned from the mirror.
“Kids, I’m home!”
“Mommy!” Chloe skipped out of the bathroom, reaching up to wrap her arms around her mother’s waist.
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