18: Grace.

Five Years Later

Leaving my diary open where my husband will find it has become a hobby of mine. When he discovered the fantasies I'd written about him as a lovesick eighteen-year-old, we immediately came home and began acting them out. One by one.

It's no wonder we already have two children and a third on the way.

My husband can't go a day without being inside of me, often multiple times. Without making frantic, messy love to me wherever we happen to be in the house, our moans echoing loudly down the endless hallways.

Yes, the halls are long, but they're no longer empty or dark or lonely.

They are bright and full of noise. The laughter of children, music...

...and the bickering of my family who come over and refuse to leave until I'm forced to throw them out—usually in a fit of laughter. They don't have far to go, however, since William built them a house on the edge of our property.

True to my husband's word, he has become a family man. A man who treats others, especially his tenant