My dear wife was being difficult getting out of the bed, despite the fact that we went to bed early with no marital action since it was that time of the month and were only waking up an hour earlier than we were during the holidays.

“Come on, get up! Sophie said she’d make breakfast for us, remember?” I said as I got off the bed.

She sat up with both hands over her stomach, blinking blankly and grumbled about it being rude to make her wait and let the food get cold.

Seeing and hearing her like that, I asked if she was ok.

She grumbled again, saying that today the pain was at a three, but she was feeling bloated and her breasts itched. She clearly wasn’t in a particularly good mood and feeling self-conscious of her body too, but who could blame her? Personally, I was feeling a tad bloated too, and unfortunately, there wasn’t much I could do to help her, at least physically, and even then, I didn’t have the time for that.

Even if she was reluctant and arguing that we could just skip, I had to get her to go to school otherwise sis would chew us off for an hour.

As a further incentive to get her out of the bed, I took three steps away from the bed and turned to face her with outstretched arms.

“Come here,” I called sweetly. “Wifey wants huggies and kissies!”

The look she gave me made me worry that perhaps it had been a bad idea to tease her like that right off the gate and when she was in a bit of a bad mood.

That came to be an unfair assessment, Violet simply held my face to give me a kiss that felt a bit too short, but the hug I got was extra nice as a compensation.

“You smell so nice,” I hummed as I carefully kissed and rubbed my cheek on her chest.

“Pfft, fufu. Haven’t heard that in a while.”

She gave me another squeeze before letting me go and kissed the top of my head. To finish things off, I gave her bum a playful slap when she turned around.

She fought the urge to turn around and tickle me until there was a puddle at my feet and took out our school uniforms from the closet while making playful threats that I was a tad sad she didn’t act upon.

She wasn’t sure about this year’s tie being a golden yellow, and I thought it’d look better on her the blue one from last year.

“Well, this one sure does look better on you,” she told me as she touched the knot on my tie as an excuse to get close. “It goes great with your skin tone and hair.”

“Hehe, oh my, how loving my Violet is,” I laughed, tip-toing with my arms around her neck, Violet giving me a boost by holding me by the rear again, us exchanging a couple of quick pecks. “I missed seeing you in a miniskirt.”

“What about the shorts I wore during summer?”

“They are nice too, but I can’t do this to see your panties,” I said, flipping her skirt up. “At least until you start wearing tights again.”

She laughed at my harassment as she made me lower my hands and let go her skirt. She commented that I saw them at least twice every day, that I could still see them through the tights fabric and that I was awfully peppy for someone who was going back to school.

To the first point, seeing her underwear was my privilege as her wife and always appreciated a peek.

To the second, that was also super nice, but seeing some bare skin was special too.

To the third, why wouldn’t I? It was our last year in high school, our friends were in the same class as we were, and since we now only had eight subjects, and on Tuesdays and Thursdays, we only had classes until lunch.

“Haah, and to think we had twelve last year,” Violet sighed as we joined Sophie and Stan at the dining table.

To make it clearer, we aren’t counting PE in the twelve of last year even though we were including it in the eight of this year, so we technically had seven now. That makes it even better, doesn’t it? It was almost half the stuff.

“Don’t go slacking off because of that,” Sophie told us firmly. “I get that it’s nice to have more free time to go on dates and such, but this year is the most important of all.”

“Gee sis, how about having some faith in us?” I said while rolling my eyes. “And didn’t you say something similar last year?”

I should have stayed quiet because she went into a lecture.

First year was important because we’d be building a foundation. Second year was important because we’d fortify said foundation. The third year was when we picked what we wanted to focus on and with it, make the final preparations to end our obligatory schooling and enter the adult world, either as a worker or as a student of a higher education.

Luckily, Papa Stan chipped in, saying that they shouldn’t worry because we knew what we wanted and what we needed to do to reach that goal in life.

“Well, true, but they do tend to get lost into their little world. That’s what gets me worried sometimes.”

“Love you too, sis,” I chuckled, using those words as a jab but also as a show of my appreciation for her worry over us.

My sister made a funny face at me in response while Stan chuckled at our exchange while making a comment that it was always amusing to him the way we bickered every morning.

Looking at Violet to see if she was done eating, she wordlessly grabbed my face with a gentle hand and rubbed her napkin on the corner of my mouth, whipping away a bit of butter I had missed cleaning.

“Violet, don’t treat my sister like a baby.”

“But sis, I’m her babe!” I whine to annoy her further as I offered a hand for Violet to hold as she got up. A great success that was in both fronts, my sister grumbling under her breath while my love entangled her fingers with mine.

Before leaving though, we gave our murderous beast plenty of head pats and rubs as he seemingly didn’t want to let us leave as Oliver kept entangling himself around our legs despite Violet telling him not to as he’d leave fur all over our socks.

“Come here, you silly cat!” Sophie sighed as she picked him up, Oliver immediately kneading her chest as he purred with a happy face. “And you two, off you go! Scram! Bugger off!”

We would... after rubbing his fluffy cheeks for a few seconds more.

Just as we were arriving at the bus stop while talking about how extra-fluffy Oliver has gotten, we got a text from Mathilda. That text was followed by a call from a number we didn’t know but knew who it belonged to since we had just been warned about it.

Ms. Prescot wanted to talk with us, so our friend had given her our numbers, and since it was a conversation to be had between us three, I pulled my earphones from my bag and gave my wife one of the earplugs for her to be able to listen without me putting the call in loudspeaker mode.

“Did you miss us that much?” I asked as soon as we were done with the greetings.

“You really shouldn’t be asking that to a teacher.”

Despite her scolding voice, I could hear a certain trembling in her voice of someone holding back a chuckle. I recently learned that a word for that is “tsundere” thanks to an animated movie we watched with Mathilda during summer break. I still had no idea what the equivalent was for someone lovey-dovey like Violet, and hopefully I’d remember to search for it after we were done with the call.

“I was checking the students list and noticed that you two now share the last name. I’m calling to ask what you want to do about it.”

“What we want to do about it?” Violet asked.

“Yes, more precisely, if you want to announce your marriage to class, keep quiet about it, or if I should just use Abby’s old last name. Normally, I’d prefer to leave you to discuss it, but... class will start in a bit, and I’d like to address the issue pronto.”

Violet and I shared a brief look before we said the same thing: we’d keep quiet about it, but we’d still use my current last name.

“I see. I understand, but what if someone’s parents raise some concerns about it?”

We’d just deal with it if that was the case.

We weren’t doing anything wrong, and despite us sometimes getting buddy-buddy at school, it was never with kissing—even the “normal” kind of kissing—nor would we grope each other.

Aside from our matching chokers—and now rings, the only way to know that we were a couple and not very close friends was by asking or taking note on how our eyes sometimes lingering when gazing one another.

Personally, at most, they might find it weird that we were already married at such a young age, but kicking a fuss about it? I didn’t think so.

Still, I pre-emptively apologised for any bothers that might come to our dear teacher’s way before we ended the call.

“Should I put on some music?” I asked afterwards.

“Hmm... sure, why not? One that goes well with the day and bus ride, please.”

“So... no grindcore?”

“What’s that?”

“A subgenre of heavy metal,” I told her as I picked a nice song. “It’s even more violent and heavy than regular metal.”

“Do you even hear that?” she asked, sounding like she was already expecting for me to say that I did.

“It’s a mood,” I told her sweetly as I pressed play. “Not today’s mood though, so relax.”

“The things I still discover about my wife,” she grumbled under her breath.

I too would find new things about her every now and then. Like, recently, I found a single mole on her body and was dying for the right opportunity to report that find to her, but not its whereabouts. It’ll be a good show seeing Violet twist and contort as she looks for the mole that was somewhere her eyes couldn’t reach.

“Looking good!” Mathilda cheered as a greeting. “Bit of a shame that I can’t see your bras under she shirt, but oh well.”

It was hard to believe that it took them two years to reach the conclusion that forcing the students to come to school with blazers and cardigans on during summer was a stupid idea, but finally, we were allowed to come to school with a simple short-sleeved button-up shirt. We already wore a different tie depending on our school year, so the reason why they forced us to wear coloured cardigans before is anyone’s guess.

Then again, it’s the same people who still haven’t fixed the numbering of the classrooms. Maybe next year, when it’s no longer relevant to any of us, they’d finally fix that.

About Mathilda’s comment, that was because Violet got us some skin-tone undershirts when she saw that the new summer shirts were very slightly see-through and would only get worse with our sweat. She had also skipped putting on a bra today due to how sensitive her chest was feeling, so she wouldn’t be seeing that bit of underwear today, but something a lot more private in a similar fashion to what we were seeing of Mathilda. I had thought the undershirts as unnecessary, but seeing Violet’s state today, plus Mathilda and other girls who either didn’t care or hadn’t thought about it made me appreciate the overthinking mind of my other half. The fabric itself was very breathable, so it really was paying off.

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Mathilda was clearly unaware of how much she was showing, because there was no way she’d be wearing that under her shirt if she did.

“Yours is kinda showing though...” Violet informed our friend as we sat behind her.

“No way!” she gasped as she crossed her arms over her chest. “What colour!?”

“...”

“Red and a bit see-through,” I said since Violet wasn’t willing to stare.

I couldn’t see anything really, but I could tell the fabric was very thin, but that didn’t matter to our distressed friend. Mathilda looked like she was about to start crying, mumbling something about other people having seen what she was wearing for her date with Stephen after school. Not wanting to sound like I’m prude or anything, but she called this upon herself. If she wanted to put on a sexy underwear for her sexy time with Stephen, she could have just invited him over and put it on in the bathroom while he waited in the bedroom. That’d certainly make the reveal even better for him since he’d be there, waiting and building anticipation.

“Erm... I got an extra undershirt in my bag if you—”

“Please, let me borrow it!” Mathilda begged as she clasped Violet’s hand.

Such an innocent girl for someone who wears that kind of underwear and makes so many dirty jokes. All the funnier it is when stuff like this happens.

The boys came up next, asking what was up with her, Mathilda having almost tackled her cousin as he was walking in the lead as they came up to the door.

Violet told them she was fixing her uniform, that being a very unfulfilling explanation to the boys since they clearly saw her close to tears, but it was one that I’d have given myself. For all the teasing she did to us, it’d still be a jerk move telling them that her bra was showing.

Now, when it’d come to us girls in private... that’d be fair game to me.

“Had to try fix for ugliness?”

“Shut up! I really am not in the mood right now for your stupidity,” Mathilda barked after giving her boyfriend a kiss on the cheek and clinging to him, looking for some comfort and assurance. “And who cares if you think I’m ugly? Stephen thinks and says that I’m very pretty a lot of times.”

“They do say that love makes people blind,” Mathew joked with a twisted smile.

“Stephen, Mathew is bullying me!” she cried out as she hugged her boyfriend’s arm.

Stephen was being bullied too right now, but he didn’t get to say anything about it because Ms. Prescot walked in the room and immediately told everyone to pipe down and take a seat.

She too had ditched the blazer and had opted for a white t-shirt and chinos.

Out of curiosity, I sneaked a look at Mathew. Just as I had thought, his eyes were fixed on her in a way that was rare to see from him towards anything that wasn’t a videogame.

The smart-casual look fit her better, and her clothes did elevate her nice features, so I couldn’t blame him for staring. And come to think of it, she’ll have his preferred age once he finishes university and starts working.

Hmm? Might he have a crush over her?

I’d mess with him later about it, right now, it was time to answer roll call.

When my name came up, I noticed some heads perk up and glances towards us. They had dropped the idea of changing the students around depending on our academic performance when moving from second to third grade, leaving that exclusively for the first to second, so this class was the exact same as last year.

Everyone mostly sat at their old places out of habit, meaning that we sat again in the back, and they weren’t glancing at anyone else when their names came up, so I wasn’t just being self-conscious. Those same people made it all the more obvious when it was Violet’s turn.

Then came the whispering and through the window went us not wanting to make a big deal out of it.

“Girls, if you would,” Ms. Prescot said, not sounding happy about the fuss forming in her classroom and having guessed right.

“Guys, I know it’s going to be shocking, but please, we don’t want to make a big deal out of it,” I said as a preface. “The truth is, well, as some of you might have guessed, Violet and I got married during summer.”

Some people cheered, others kept whispering amongst themselves, but they were all making quite the fuss and it took some time for Ms. Prescot to gain control of the room.

“Since they don’t want to make a big deal out of it, let’s us all respect that, shall we?” she told to the class once we all got quiet enough. “So, on behalf of all of us, congratulations on your marriage.”

A female classmate raised a hand, wanting to make a question. That was if they couldn’t throw a class party to commemorate.

“Sorry, but... we really would prefer if everyone could carry on, business as usual,” Violet told her, looking as straight as possible to our classmate.

“Yeah, we appreciate the thought behind it, but it’s like Violet said,” I added. “We won’t stop you or get mad if any of you want to congratulate us or ask questions, but if you could act like nothing like this happened, we’d appreciate that too.”

That more or less settled it, but after were dismissed, there was still a small crowd of mostly girls flocking to us with questions and best wishes.

The questions summed up to: when we got married? Did we wear wedding dresses? Was there a big wedding cake? Did we get presents? What kind of presents? Did we go somewhere on our honeymoon? Were there pictures we could show?

It felt like they were fishing ideas for their own weddings, honestly.

On our way outside, Violet slowed down before completely stopping. An announcement about the school library looking for people to join its committee was posted on a board in the hallway and had caught her attention.

I asked her if she was interested, but she played coy about it until I told her that she should go for it.

“I know you were also interested last year,” I also told her.

“Are you sure? I might have to stay in school after we are done with classes.”

That’d suck, but it could also serve as practice for our future life next year. A way for us to not go completely cold turkey in one go.

“Well, we do have some... tricks, up our sleeves and if one of us is feeling particularly needy, I’m sure no one will object me joining you at the desk, hmm?” I added to strengthen my points as I hugged her arm.

“True. Hmm... all right, I think I’ll toss my name into the hat before we head home...”

She stopped talking because she noticed that one of our classmates was standing close by. This time, it was Jessica.

“Just thought I’d congratulate you on your marriage,” she awkwardly said before taking her leave and not staying long enough for as to express our thanks.

Violet wondered if that could even count as a congratulation, but as awkward as things were between us three, I made my case that it did.

No point in sweating about the details, we had dawdled long enough and had to catch up with our friends who hadn’t noticed us being left behind.

There were too many people around us in the corridors, the air was heavy with heat and students sweat, so when we got out, my wifey looked like she just had had it with being around other humans.

The way she dropped on the bench our friends chose as our roost showed me just how fed up she was.

“Haah... can we go home now?” Violet groaned, sitting in a very unlady-like manner.

There was nothing more I wanted to do than take her back home into our bedroom, take her clothes off, massage her belly, shoulders, back and feet and then pamper her with caresses, kisses and sweet words, then, we’d snuggle and read our books with lots of skin contact between us. However, sis wasn't working today, and it’d be a gamble to go to either of our places as she could be in any of the two.

“Babe, someone that isn’t me might see your panties if you sit like that,” I told her as I sat right next to her.

“I was counting on you sitting between them,” she told me as she tugged me by the skirt.

I know she gets more vulnerable with her period, but this felt different. Had she perhaps gotten a bit clingier with the wedding, or was it just her social battery running low and needing me to comfort her? Today was as hot as it could be, even under the shade like we were, so it was a bit odd of her to ask me that.

Anyway, if I fit, I sit.

“Speaking of home, I have news to share,” Mathilda said after a delighted chuckle as she watched me take my rightful sitting spot.

She looked sombre all of a sudden, making me worry after having thought that maybe she and Stephen had decided to move in together after graduating from high school.

In the end, it was exactly that, but with a cruel twist: Mathilda’s parents wanted her out of the house at most a week after she turned eighteen, or she’d have to start paying rent.

What she decided to do was move in with Claire for the remainder of the school year, and eventually move in with Stephen once both were done with high school.

Her channel was growing well, she was expecting to start making some money out of it in a few months, and Stephen was already getting paid for his work at his dad’s shop.

As Stephen moved an arm over her and pulled her close, she asked if we could help her move some of her stuff into a warehouse she and Stephen would rent sometime after the New Year.

“...”

“...Of course we’ll help. Right, honey? Honey?”

“Right. Yeah, of course we will help with that.”

“...Abby?”

I assured her that it was nothing, I just got a bit lost in thoughts. Namely, I was thinking about my mother.

For some reason, this talk got me wondering how she was doing lately. Had she in fact gotten tamer? Could we have a proper conversation?

My old place was practically around the corner, just a few minutes walking and I was at the front door.

Stop it! Stop it with these stupid thoughts!

What would we even talk about? The weather? Why was I having these thoughts again? It’s been months now since we crossed paths and since then, these would pop up every now and then. Ever since I met her again, they’ve been invading my mind more frequently than before, and they’d now linger too, no matter how much I tried to dismiss it.

“Babe, I told you, I’m fine,” I said, letting out a short giggle as Violet hugged my waist a bit more tightly, her breath tickling my ear due to her leaning face to better see mine. “It was just an intrusive thought I had.”

Our friends asked if we needed a minute, but I told then it wasn’t needed before even consulting with Violet.

Her slightly pouty face told me she wasn’t convinced nor happy about what I said to them, but for now, it’d have to do.

Even so...

I shouldn’t leave her in the dark for much longer...

It wasn’t fair for her to see me being eaten from the inside by something while I continually acted dismissive. Especially when I took into account the fact that even Violet would more promptly tell me what bothered her pretty much anytime something started weighting her mind.

“...”

“Hmm... ok.”

The tone of her voice and the way she moved her ring hand over mine... she somehow understood what was going on in my mind and saw that I was thinking about telling her once we got home just by a brief moment of eye contact.

It had been long enough that I kept it to myself...

♥♥♥

I could understand why she’d think about it sometimes, but I couldn’t agree with it. I was thankful she told me about it before doing anything, but... What should I do now?

As her wife, I wanted what was best for her, but I also wanted to respect and support her choices. This was putting that to the test.

“Are you mad about it?”

“No, I’m not.”

“You are mad about it.”

“Abby, don’t start it, Or I’ll be mad after all,” I told her, trying to sound as unconfrontational as possible. “I’m thinking about what you just told me. Now, come here.”

I spread open my arms and Abby dove into them after fighting the urge to take the plunge, hiding her face in my chest and taking a big, long breath, my scent probably helping her calm down.

“...You’re not mad at all,” she said after placing an ear over my heart, her nose as close to my armpit as she could without stopping to be able to hear my heartbeat. She still sounded a bit weepy after all, but my dear wife was a bit of a cry-baby at the end of the day.

“I told you so,” I assured her, crossing my legs around her while burying my fingers in her fluffy hair and watching her nose twitch like a rabbit’s.

She never said she wanted to go talk to her mother. It was just a thought. It was kinda like when you’re bored and think about holding your hand over a lit candle to see how long you can endure it. You know perfectly well you might get burned, but there’s still that thing in your mind tugging you towards doing it. It was the same thing only with different emotions attached.

That was how I was seeing it and what my mind always ended up on. However, what I wanted to think was what we should do about it.

One thing’s for sure, I won’t blatantly start telling her what to do or not to do.

As much as a part of me screamed for me to do exactly that in this case, I vehemently refused to proceed in that way. It wasn’t my nature, and even if it was, it felt like a dangerous path to get into. It felt like it’d lead me into an abusive position towards my one and true love.

“...You know I love you, right?” I said with an offered smile.

“...I hope so,” she shyly whined as she saw my loving smile. “Otherwise, it’d be very awkward for us to have married make and love so often.”

“Fufu, it really would.”

She proceeded to undue my tie and unbutton some of the top buttons of my shirt. My undershirt was in the way, so I removed my top for her. Not having fabric over my breasts felt super relieving and she got to kiss my exposed chest where it wouldn’t tickle and distract me of my thoughts. In fact, I was now feeling more focused on what was going on in my mind.

“You can think about it for as long as you want, you know?” she told me as time went by.

Thing is, we didn’t have all that much time, did we?

We had school to busy ourselves with, I’d be joining the library committee, and then, we’d spend part of the summer to move into a new place, and now, probably help Mathilda and Stephen do the same. After that, who knew when we’d be back to our hometown and for how long?

Of course, I didn’t tell her about that. Like I’d put even more pressure on her when she was already stressing about it as is.

“Abby, look at me,” I asked her as I placed a hand on her face.

She looked up, her eyes glistening and showing a bit of worry about what I was about to tell her.

It was a very brief and straight to the point thing: if she ever decided to go meet her mother, for whatever reason she might have at the time, I had to go too, no matter what. That was my sole condition on the matter.

“You’d do that for me?” she asked, her eyes starting to swell with tears.

“Am I not your wife?” I asked, trying to lighten the mood.

“...You’re an angel too,” she choked as she hid her face on my chest again.

This conclusion of affairs pleased me—pleased us, and with it having been the first day of classes there was no homework, so I tumbled back and pulled her along. Really, I’d have done that regardless. I didn’t care about getting my skirt and her uniform wrinkled too, and we laid in bed while not making a single noise or exchange of words as we took in the sound of the other’s breathing and Abby of my heartbeat too.

The fact Abby still thought about her mother and considered talking to her told me that she still had wounds in her heart, despite of how happy she is now. If talking with her would help Abby heal said wounds, then... it’s a big if, but I thought it’d be worth it if it’d help her happiness becoming as whole as possible.

Maybe in time she’d forget about it. Or maybe it’d get worse.

With Abby taking off her top too and removing our skirts before laying on top of me again, not sobbing and occasionally rubbing her face on me or kissing my chest, I felt like I had chosen correctly, allowing me to appreciate the peace and quiet around us.

Then, once we had both returned to our normal state, Abby pulled out her phone and typed something on it. After some time reading, she set it aside and kissed my chest again before sitting on me and starting to massage me bellow my bellybutton.

I moaned as I told her how much I felt like I needed that and didn’t even know it. Furthermore, I told her how much I loved her tiny hands and how magical they were in regards of making me feel nice and relaxed.

“Pfft, hehe. You’re a real dere dere.”

“Are you mocking me?” I asked, poking her soft, squishy cheek with one hand and her waist just under the ribs with the other, she reaction and soft giggling being music to my ears.

“Hehe, no! I’m saying that you’re a very loving lover. Love you to bits, by the way.”

“Pff, fufu. You’re also very dare dade, honey.”

“Dere dere,” she corrected with a laugh as she moved to kiss my chest again. “It’s pronounced ‘dere dere,’ babe.”

Whatever is the way you say it, I didn’t care. She was as loving as she was warm and an absolute angel, even if a bit devilish at times. An angel that I held in place and was about to kiss and profess my love to once again.

Her happy giggles, expressions and sounds... there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to protect such precious things.