October 16, 2025 • 58 mins
Introducing Roxy's Bookshop!
You can download an ebook version of this week's episode for 99 cents (free in Kindle Unlimited!) here. Let me know what you think!
This week's episode
It begins at their best friends’ wedding—a secret alliance between a Maid of Honor and a Best Man who both see the cracks in a perfect facade. For Chloe and Liam, it’s the start of a years-long, long-distance friendship that becomes the most important relationship in their lives, leading to a powerful love story that was always meant to be.
Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/roxy-s-erotic-whispers--6561938/support.
Introducing Roxy's Bookshop!
Download an ebook version of select episodes at Amazon. They're free for Kindle Unlimited subscribers!
Swipe Right (all six episodes in a full novel-length ebook!)
The Five Year Kiss
You can download an ebook version of this week's episode for 99 cents (free in Kindle Unlimited!) here. Let me know what you think!
This week's episode
It begins at their best friends’ wedding—a secret alliance between a Maid of Honor and a Best Man who both see the cracks in a perfect facade. For Chloe and Liam, it’s the start of a years-long, long-distance friendship that becomes the most important relationship in their lives, leading to a powerful love story that was always meant to be.
Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/roxy-s-erotic-whispers--6561938/support.
Introducing Roxy's Bookshop!
Download an ebook version of select episodes at Amazon. They're free for Kindle Unlimited subscribers!
Swipe Right (all six episodes in a full novel-length ebook!)
The Five Year Kiss
Mark as Played
Transcript
Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
Speaker 1 (00:00):
Hey there. This is Annie and I play Emma in
the Swipewright series of episodes here on Roxy's Erotic Whispers.
I just wanted to let you know that Roxy has
all of the Swipewright stories now available in a deluxe ebook.
You can find it on Amazon at Roxy dot show
slash swipe right All one word. If you enjoyed the
(00:21):
swipe Right episodes, you'll love reading ebook. Hello, my loveleees.
Speaker 2 (00:27):
I'm Roxy Callahan and welcome to my Erotic Whispers, the
podcast where I celebrate women's romance and sexuality. We all
deserve both, don't we well. I adore short stories where
it's all about the passion and the intensity of the moment.
I also love the long, slow build, where the moment
(00:48):
the couple get together isn't just about the moment, it's
also about.
Speaker 1 (00:53):
All that came before.
Speaker 2 (00:55):
That's what you'll find in this week's story, a man
and woman brought together when their best friends get married,
and how this leads to the moment where they find
themselves in each other's arms. The wonderful actors this week
are Annie b and Clint. Finally, don't forget. This podcast
is intended for adult listeners.
Speaker 1 (01:20):
The air that hits me as I step out of
the shuttle is a solid wall of heat and humidity,
thick with the scent of salt and hibiscus. Welcome to Paradise, or,
in my case, welcome to the operational theater for the
biggest event of my best friend Jess's life. My linen
dress is already starting to cling to my back as
(01:41):
I wrestle my carry on, the bride's emergency kit and
my ringing phone. It's the florist, of course, it's the florist. No,
the penies need to be a soft blosh, not hot pink.
I'm trying to keep the frantic edge out of my voice. Yes,
I'm sure, I'll forward you the swatch again. I end
(02:01):
the call with a sigh. My mission for the next
five days crystal clear. In sure Jess has the perfect
stress free wedding she's been dreaming of since we were kids.
This is not a vacation, This is a deployment. Later
that evening, at the welcome reception on a terrace overlooking
the ocean, I'm in full made of honor mode. I've
(02:23):
smoothed over a seating chart crisis located the groom's missing
cufflink and now I'm just trying to have a five
minute conversation with Jess's aunt. Mike Gaze sweeps the crowd,
doing a mental headcount, and that's when I see him.
He's exactly where you'd expect him to be, the center
of the loudest group, leaning against the tiki bar. He's
(02:45):
holding a beer, tanned and relaxed in a white linen shirt,
laughing at something one of the other groomsmen said. He
has that easy, sun kissed confidence that comes from a
life of things probably going his way. The best man
Liam I've been on email chains with him for months.
His message is always brief, bordering on flip it. Now
(03:07):
seeing him in person, my initial assessment solidifies great. I think,
taking a sip of my lukewarm champagne, the best Man
is a frat boy. This is going to be a
long week. He's handsome, I'll give him that, with a
strong jaw and eyes that seem to sparkle even from
across the terrace. But he looks like a professional vacationer,
(03:29):
not someone who understands the logistical intricacies of a destination wedding.
He looks like a distraction he looks like trouble.
Speaker 3 (03:40):
I take a long pull from my beer, the cold
bottle a welcome relief in the humid evening air. The
resort is incredible, and my best friend Mark is practically
vibrating with a mixture of joy and sheer teror, which
is exactly as it should be. The groomsmen are in
good spirits. I've already scoped out the best spots on
the beach, and the week is off to a perfect start.
(04:02):
My only remaining task for the evening is to finally
lay eyes on a legendary maid of honor. Mark has
been talking about her for months, Chloe the super planner,
Chloe who has a binder for everything, Chloe who probably
has a contingency planned for a hurricane. The only positive
thing he said about her is that she's kind of hot.
(04:23):
My impression is of some kind of beautiful, terrifying drill
sergeant in address. I'm scanning the crowd for someone who
fits the description. When I see her, She's talking to
one of the bride's ancient aunts. But her focus isn't total.
Her eyes are scanning, assessing, managing. She is a whirlwind
of contained, focused energy. Her brow frowed in concentration even
(04:46):
as she smiles politely. She's wearing a simple blue dress
that makes her stand out against the right of tropical prints,
and her dark hair is pulled back in a way
that somehow both elegant and severe. She looks completely out
of place and totally in control. And she's beautiful in
(05:06):
a sharp, intelligent way that's far more interesting than the
easy bikini clap beauty dotting the rest of the resort.
So that's the famous Chloe, I think to myself, a
grin spreading across my face. She looks like she's single
handedly holding this entire event together through sheer force of will.
My first thought is an overwhelming, instinctual urge. Someone needs
(05:30):
to get her a Margarita stat.
Speaker 1 (05:34):
The next morning, I'm sitting in a stuffy, air conditioned
conference room with a resort's wedding coordinator, a woman whose
fixed smile is more annoying than pleasant. My binder is open,
my checklist is highlighted, and we are, I'm afraid to say,
behind schedule. The problem is the processional. The walk from
the hotel entrance to the ceremony arch is ninety two seconds.
(05:57):
I'm tapping my pen on the Layanth diagram. Jess is adamant.
She wants to walk to the acoustic version of Yellow.
That song has a forty second instrumental intro before the
first verse even begins. We have to cut it off
mid chorus. He could suggest a different song. We could
also suggest you getting married in a courthouse. The door
(06:18):
opens and Liam strolls in, looking infuriatingly relaxed in a
pair of shorts and a faded T shirt, sunglasses perched
on his head. He smells faintly of sunscreen and.
Speaker 3 (06:28):
Salt Martin Ladies.
Speaker 1 (06:31):
He flashes a brilliant smile.
Speaker 3 (06:34):
Sorry, Mark needed some moral support about the Cummerbund crisis, averted.
Speaker 1 (06:39):
I give him a tight nod and point to the
empty chair beside me. We're discussing a timing issue with
a processional. He sits in for the next ten minutes.
He listens as the coordinator and I go back and forth.
He's quiet, but I can feel his presence a pocket
of calm amusement next to my storm of logistical anxiety.
(07:00):
At one point, I suggest having a string quartet Plaine
accelerated version, and he audibly snorts. I shoot him a
glare what.
Speaker 3 (07:10):
Nothing?
Speaker 1 (07:11):
He holds his hands up and surrender.
Speaker 3 (07:13):
Just picturing Coldplay on speed. It's a bold choice for
a wedding march.
Speaker 1 (07:19):
I'm about to make a sharper tour. When he leans forward,
tapping a finger on the map of the resort, crowns.
Speaker 3 (07:25):
Hang on, what's this path here behind the Infinity Pool?
Speaker 1 (07:29):
A service path?
Speaker 3 (07:31):
But it leads right past the garden where the ceremony is.
Speaker 1 (07:33):
Right, He looks at me, his eyes surprisingly focused.
Speaker 3 (07:37):
Why does Jess have to start her walk from the
hotel lobby? Why can't she start from back there? Give
her a much longer, more dramatic approach through the gardens,
and you easily add two minutes to the walk. You'd
get the full intro, the first verse, and the entire chorus.
She could hit the aisle right as the song swells.
Speaker 1 (07:56):
It's a service path.
Speaker 3 (07:59):
Sure, but it's between the pool and that beautiful cops
of trees. It's actually more striking of an entrance than
past all the shads, lounges and concrete.
Speaker 1 (08:08):
The coordinator and I both stare at the map. It's
so simple, it's elegant. It's a far better solution than
my frantic music butchering idea. It's perfect. I'm momentarily speechless,
stunned that this laid back cummerbun joking beach bump just
solved the one problem I've been losing sleepover for weeks.
(08:29):
I look at him, really look at him, and see
passed the easy smile for the first time. There's a sharp,
crave intelligence there that I hadn't clocked at all. That
is actually a brilliant idea.
Speaker 3 (08:46):
I walk into the meeting feeling like I've crashed a
war council. Chloe is in full commander mode, her pana weapon,
the wedding coordinator, and her beleaguered subordinate. She looks incredible,
all business in a crisp sundress, but she's rating enough
stress to power a small city. I try to lighten
the mood with the Cumberbun story, and it doesn't land.
(09:08):
Tough crowd, I think, settling into my chair, I listen
as they debate song links and walking speeds. It's impressive
her attention to detail, but they're both stuck in the weeds.
They're trying to change the song to fit the path
instead of changing the path to fit the song. I
see the service path on the map, a little dotted
(09:28):
line they both overlooked. I'm a landscape architect, seeing how
people move through a space is literally what I do.
I offer up my idea, half expecting her to dismiss it. Instead,
she just stares at the map, then at me. Her
brow smooths out, the hard focused line of her mouth softens.
(09:48):
The look she gives me is one of pure, unadulterated surprise,
and then I see it a flicker of genuine respect.
Speaker 1 (09:59):
That is actually a brilliant idea.
Speaker 3 (10:02):
Her praise hits me with a ridiculous jolt of pride.
It's one thing to have one hundred people laugh at
a joke at the bar. It's another to have this
one formidable woman look at you like you've just earned
her respect. The tension in the room dissipates. She gives
me a small, almost shy smile, and I can suddenly
picture her without the binder and the stress, laughing over
(10:25):
a drink. The thought is unexpectedly appealing. My initial amusement
at the superplanner is solidifying into something else, genuine intrigue.
The week just got a whole lot more interesting.
Speaker 1 (10:42):
The rehearsal dinner is held on a secluded part of
the beach, under a canopy of twinkling string lights. The
day's stress is melted away, replaced by the warm, celebratory
buzz of the evening. Liam and I are seated next
to each other, and the easy report we found this
morning has deepened in the something surprisingly comfortable. We talk
about our lives back home. Our jobs are shared encyclopedic
(11:06):
knowledge of bad nineties action movies. He's funny and sharp,
and I find myself laughing, a real, unburdened laugh that
feels like a release. But as the speeches begin, a
lot of anxiety tightens in my stomach. It's not just nerves.
I look at Jess and Mark sitting at the head table,
(11:27):
glowing and happy, and I feel a terrible pang of guilt.
I love just more than anyone, and I want this
for her, I truly do. But I was there last
month when Mark casually dismissed her dream of opening her
own studio as a cute hobby. I saw the light
go out of her eyes for a moment. I'm supposed
to stand up and toast it there forever, but a
(11:49):
traitorous voice in my head keeps whispering, do you actually
believe that? When it's my turn, I stand up, my
hands trembling slightly, look at Jess, push the doubt down,
and speak from the heart, focusing only on our two
decades of friendship and the joy she feels. Right now.
(12:10):
My speech is full of love and it's all true,
but it feels incomplete, like a beautiful painting of a
house I'm not sure is structurally sound. As I sit down,
my heart pounding, I catch Liam's eye. He gives me
a slow, deliberate nod, his expression unreadable but intense. It
(12:30):
doesn't feel like simple applause. It feels like acknowledgment. Then
it's his turn. I'm expecting a classic best man roast,
but as he begins to speak, I realize he's walking
the same emotional tightrope I just did. He tells a
hilarious story about Mark, but then his tone shifts. He
(12:51):
talks about loyalty, about what it means to truly support someone.
His words are for Mark, but he keeps finding my
gaze in the crowd, fleeting repeated connection. I see the deep,
genuine love he has for his friend, but I also
see a flicker of the same worry. I feel his
speech isn't just a celebration, it's a prayer for their future.
(13:15):
It's an act of hope against his better judgment, And
in that moment, watching this man navigate the same complicated
feelings that I'm drowning in, my attraction to him deepens
into something far more profound.
Speaker 3 (13:31):
Dinner with Chloe is a revelation. The hyper focused commander
from this morning has been replaced by a witty, engaging
woman who can quote Roadhouse verbatim and has an opinion
on everything. I'm completely captivated. A conversation is effortless, and
I feel a powerful, undeniable connection taking route, But as
(13:53):
the speeches start, a familiar anxiety creeps in. I love
Mark like a brother. He's the best guy I know.
But I've also seen Jess's ambition completely steam while his
own desires more than once. He's so easy going he'll
agree to anything to keep the peace, and I worry
that one day he'll wake up and not recognize the
life he's living. I'm supposed to get up and give
(14:16):
this glowing endorsement of their union, and it feels like
I'm selling a beautiful fantasy. I'm not entirely sure, I
believe in. Just before it's my turn, Chloe gets up
to speak. She's brilliant, of course, eloquent, funny, and full
of genuine love for Jess. But I can see the
tension in her shoulders, the slight tremor in her hand
(14:37):
as she holds her note card. I can see her
carefully choosing her words, and I get the overwhelming feeling
that she's fighting the same battle I am. When she
sits down, I give her a nod, trying to convey
everything I can't say. I know that was hard, you
did great. Her smile in return is small, and it
(15:00):
feels like she understands. It's all the encouragement I need.
I stand up and deliver my speech. I mean every
word about my love remark and how happy Jess makes him.
But underneath it, I'm silently begging them, please talk to
each other, Please don't lose yourselves. As the last sentence
(15:21):
hangs in the air and applause breaks out, there's only
one person's reaction I care about. My eyes find her instantly.
She's looking at me with an expression of such profound,
knowing admiration that it steals my breath. It's not just
for the speech, it's for the truth behind it. She
gets it. Her approval is the only validation that matters
(15:44):
to me. A silent confirmation that I'm not crazy, that
I'm not alone in my concern. As I sit down,
a simple, terrifying and exhilarating thought rings through my head
with absolute clarity. Oh wow, I really really like her.
Speaker 1 (16:04):
The day of the wedding is a beautiful, orchestrated chaos.
I'm a blur of motion, steaming Jesse's veil, calming her nerves,
fixing a bridesmaid's smeared eyeliner, and having a very stern,
quiet word with a caterer about the kanapez. Across the
bustling resort grounds, I catch glimpses of Liam in his
own whirlwind. I see him wrestling with a groomsman, stubborn
(16:27):
bow tie, then later corralling them all for photos, a
look of humorous exasperation on his face. We exchange a
few frantic, wide eyed glances over the heads of the guests,
a silent shared language that says, can you believe this circus? Well,
we're in this together. Finally, the moment arrives, the guests
(16:47):
are seated. The music starts. I've just finished arranging Jesse's train,
and she's taking a deep, shaky breath on her father's arm,
ready for her grand entrance for the first time and hours.
There's nothing for me to do but wait. I step
back into the shade of a palm tree, my own
heart hammering a nervous rhythm against my ribs. You did it,
(17:11):
Liam is beside me. I hadn't even heard him approach.
He's standing there in his suit, looking impossibly handsome, his
eyes crinkling at the corners. We did it. A smile
breaks through my stress barely.
Speaker 3 (17:26):
Nah, you did it. Everything's perfect. She looks, Wow, she does.
Speaker 1 (17:33):
My throat suddenly tightens with emotion. He looks at me,
his smile softening.
Speaker 3 (17:38):
You look pretty wild yourself.
Speaker 1 (17:41):
Before I can even process the compliment, his gaze narrows.
Speaker 3 (17:45):
You've got a little hold still.
Speaker 1 (17:48):
He reaches out, his movements, gentle and sure. A small
white blossom from my own bouquet has gotten tangled in
a loose strand of the hair by my temple. His
fingers brush against my skin as he carefully works it free.
The touch is featherlight, practical, and it sends a jolt
of pure electricity straight through my body. The entire chaotic,
(18:10):
noisy world of the wedding, the music, the rustling guest,
the distant ocean fades into a dull, silent hum. All
I can feel is the shocking, unexpected warmth of his
fingertips against my skin. The spark I'd felt before is
now a full blown, undeniable fire.
Speaker 3 (18:32):
I get Mark to the altar, give his shoulders a
final firm squeeze, and step back into place. My job
is mostly done. I scan the scene and everything looks perfect,
exactly as planned. My eyes find Chloe standing just out
of sight of the guests. She's watching Jess, and the
look on her face is one of such fears profound
(18:52):
love for her friend that it makes my chest ache.
She has done an incredible job. I walk over stand
beside her, needing to share this final quiet moment before
the ceremony begins. You did it, I say it, and
I mean it. As she turns to me, I see it.
(19:13):
A small white flower is caught in her hair, a
tiny imperfection in her otherwise flawless appearance. You've got a
little hold still, and without thinking I reach out to
fix it. It's an automatic gesture, an impulse to correct
a small detail. The second my fingers may contact with
the silky strands of her hair and the warm, soft
(19:35):
skin of her temple, something shifts. The innocent gesture is
suddenly charged with an intimacy that catches me completely off guard.
I'm acutely aware of the faint, clean scent of her perfume,
the way the tiny hairs at her temple curls softly.
The jolt that goes through me is a sudden, sharp,
undeniable awareness of her, not as Chloe the Planner, not
(19:59):
as my new friend, but as a woman I'm intensely,
terrifyingly attracted to. I pull my hand back a little
too quickly, the free and flower held between my fingers.
I can feel the heat rising in my own face.
The easy, comfortable line of our new friendship has just
become irrevocably blurred in This sudden, terrifying thought that I
(20:21):
might be falling for the maid of honor at my
best friend's wedding hits me like a rogue wave.
Speaker 1 (20:28):
The reception is a whirlwind of dancing, champagne and heartfelt congratulations.
Sometime after midnight, the band slows things down. I'm standing
by the edge of the dance floor watching jessin mark
sway together. When Liam appears at my.
Speaker 3 (20:44):
Side, May I have this dance made of honor?
Speaker 1 (20:48):
His voice is a warm sound over the music. I
nod and he leads me onto the dance floor. He
rests a hand on the small of my back, and
I place mine on his shoulder. The fit is easy, natural.
After a week of running on pure adrenaline, being this
close to him, moving slowly to the music feels like
(21:08):
the first real moment of calm I've had. I rest
my head against his shoulder. The scent of his cologne
and the clean salt air smell of his skin filling
my senses. Electric spark from before the ceremony has settled
into a deep, comfortable hum of awareness. I'm acutely aware
of his hand on my back, of the strength of
his shoulders, of the way our bodies move together as one.
(21:32):
It's dangerously intoxicatingly easy.
Speaker 3 (21:37):
I see her standing alone, and I don't even think
about it. I just walk over and ask her to dance.
Holding her in my arms feels correct. It feels like
the most natural thing in the world. Her head rests
on my shoulder, and I can feel the soft strands
of her hair against my cheek. She's finally relaxed, the
(21:58):
formidable planner placed by this warm, graceful woman who fits
so perfectly against me. My mind is a mess of
conflicting thoughts. I'm trying to keep this feeling in the
new friend category, but my body isn't listening. All I
can think is that I don't want this dance, or
this week to end. The song fades and we step apart,
(22:23):
the spell broken. We watch our friends now laughing and
accepting congratulations from a table of relatives. Well, I guess
we're officially the co presidents of the keep Mark and
Just Married Club. Now. She laughs, but it's a soft,
fleeting sound. Her smile fades as she looks at them,
and her expression becomes unreadable, tinged with something I can
(22:45):
only describe as concern. They look happy, don't they? I
leave the question hanging in the air, a test. She
picks up on the subtext. Immediately, her gaze meets mine,
and for the first time, all of her carefully constructed
walls are down.
Speaker 1 (23:02):
They too, I just hope.
Speaker 3 (23:06):
Her voice trails off, unable to say the words, I
have to know, I'm not crazy. You've seen it too,
haven't you. My voice is low, so only she can
hear the little things, the way she makes all these decisions,
and he just goes along. Her shoulders slump with a
wave that looks like pure, unadulterated relief, and.
Speaker 1 (23:27):
How he reacts by getting dismissive and detached.
Speaker 3 (23:31):
Her eyes shine with unshd tears.
Speaker 1 (23:33):
I've been watching them and feeling like the world's worst
friend for even thinking about it.
Speaker 3 (23:38):
The words hit me with the force of a confession
I didn't know I was waiting to hear. Oh my god,
A laugh of pure, astonished relief escapes me. I was
thinking the same thing, I had no one to tell
it to.
Speaker 1 (23:52):
Hearing him say it, hearing my own secret, terrible thought
I good back at me, is the most profound moment
of connection I've ever elt. I'm not a bad friend,
I'm not cynical. I'm not alone in this. He sees
it too, He gets it. The weight I've been carrying
on my shoulders all week, the guilt of my own observations,
(24:14):
suddenly lifts. We should we have to stay in touch.
It's not a polite suggestion anymore. It's a necessity for them, Yeah,
for them. He pulls out his phone and I pull
out mine. We exchange numbers under the fairy lights, and
the simple act feels like a pact, a secret alliance.
(24:37):
The night ends an hour later. We say our goodbyes
in a group with hugs and promises to see each
other at the next big event. But the look we
share is different. It's a private farewell, an acknowledgment of
the secret we now share. As I get into the
shuttle headed for the airport, I watch him standing on
the curb and I feel a sharp, unexpected pang of loss.
(25:00):
It's a feeling that's far too strong for someone I've
only known for a week.
Speaker 3 (25:05):
I watch her leave, and in a way I can't explain,
I'm completely devastated.
Speaker 1 (25:13):
The first few months after the wedding, life returns to
its normal rhythm. The tan fades, the biner goes on
a shelf, and the weekend paradise feels like a strange,
beautiful dream. The one thing that remains is the text
thread with Liam. It starts as an extension of our duties,
a place to check in. Did just sound okay to you?
This week mark mentioned they are looking at houses, but
(25:36):
it quickly becomes something more. It's six months after the
wedding and my phone buzz is on my desk. It's
a picture from Liam, a perfectly arranged, ridiculously tiny plate
of food from some high end restaurant.
Speaker 3 (25:51):
I got this meal and thought of you bet the
logistics for this plate were a nightmare.
Speaker 1 (25:56):
I laugh out loud. It's a callback to a joke
we made during the wedding about the overly fussy appetizers.
That's not a meal, that's a hostage situation for a
single pee. Did you need tweezers? They eat it.
Speaker 3 (26:09):
The waiters seemed very proud. I think it costs more
than my flight to the wedding.
Speaker 1 (26:14):
Unacceptable. You should have demanded a hot dog instead next time.
Speaker 3 (26:19):
How are things in your world? Commander?
Speaker 1 (26:22):
All quite on the Western front for now? I've put
my phone down, a smile still on my face. It's
just easy. There's no pressure and no expectation. Talking to
him is like a pocket of sunshine in the middle
of a dreary work day. It's just friendship. Of course.
It is.
Speaker 3 (26:42):
A year passes, then another. The texts become a daily habit,
the lifeblood of a friendship that feels more real than
most I have in person. The keep the married club
has gone from a joke to a full time, unpaid,
and increasingly stressful job. One night, around one am, my
phone rings. It's Mark. He's drunk, slurring his words, going
(27:06):
on and on about a huge fight he had with
Jess about her career. He says she's selfish. He says
she doesn't care about their future. It's ugly, and I
spent an hour talking him down from a ledge of
pure self pity. When I hang up, the silence in
my apartment is deafening. My first immediate instinct isn't to
go to sleep, It's to call Chloe. She picks up
(27:29):
on the second ring, her voice thick with sleep. Liam,
what's wrong, Sorry to wake you. I just got off
the film with Mark.
Speaker 1 (27:38):
Oh no, let me guess. He thinks Jess is a
career obsessed workaholic because she's up for a promotion.
Speaker 3 (27:44):
The accuracy is so perfect, so complete, that I feel
a wave of relief wash over me. She gets it,
She's the only one who gets it. That's the one
I sink on to my couch. He was talking about
leaving her. We talk for the better part of an hour.
We talk about the context that both Jess and Mark
seem to miss or refuse to communicate, about the sacrifices
(28:09):
Jess has made that Mark conveniently forgets Mark's toxic responses
to conflict. I give her insight into Mark's deep seated
fear of being left behind. Together, we piece together the full, messy,
complicated truth of their marriage. We're a team. After we
hang up, I stare out at the Austin skyline and
(28:29):
a profound lonliness settles over me. The most connected I
felt to anyone all year was just now on the
phone with a woman a thousand miles away, talking about
a marriage that isn't even mine.
Speaker 1 (28:43):
Three years after the wedding. The text fed with Liam
is the first thing I check in the morning, in
the last thing I see at night. It's a sprawling,
secret history of our lives. It's filled with our friends, crises, yes,
but now it's mostly filled with us. Pictures of terrible
attempts at baking, his complaints about his new running shoes,
(29:03):
links to articles and songs and stupid memes. He's the
person I tell everything too. I've just gotten home from
another spectacularly bad date. This one was a finance guy
who used the word synergy and a sentence about our
dinner order. I text Liam, just got home. I think
I need to be put in a medically induced coma
(29:24):
until tomorrow morning.
Speaker 3 (29:26):
That bad. Let me guess he told you about his portfolio.
Speaker 1 (29:31):
Worse, he said, our shared love of Barata showed strong
conversational synergy.
Speaker 3 (29:37):
Oh wow, and I thought I was bad at dating.
I'm so sorry. No one deserves that. Did you at
least get good Barata?
Speaker 1 (29:47):
It was mediocre at best.
Speaker 3 (29:49):
Oh, an absolute tragedy. He sounds like a moron. You're
too smart and funny for guys who talk like corporate
email templates.
Speaker 1 (29:57):
I like back on my couch staring at his message,
a warm feeling spreading through my chest. The hollow, irritated
feeling from the date is gone, replaced by the effortless
comfort of talking to him. He always knows exactly what
to say. He's funnier, sharper, and more supportive via text
message than any man of actually dated in person. The
(30:20):
thought hits me with a sudden, uncomfortable clarity, like a
light flickering on in a dark room. The most significant
and honest relationship in my life is with a man
I haven't seen in three years.
Speaker 3 (30:34):
My phone buzz is it's an email, an evite from
Mark and Jess. The subject line is bright and cheerful.
Come celebrate our fifth anniversary with us in Cabo. I
grown no, I mean I literally grown out loud. Another
destination event, another desperate, expensive attempt approve to the world
(30:54):
and to themselves that everything is fine. I know it's
a last ditch effort. Chloe and I had just talked
about it last week. I scroll through the details, the
planned excursions, the cocktail hours. It sounds exhausting, it sounds
like a nightmare. There's too much going on. They're trying
too hard at the wrong things. But then my eyes
(31:16):
land on the guest list for the Core party Best
Man Liam made of honor Chloe. My first thought isn't
about Mark and Jess. It isn't about the coming drama
or the forced smiles. It's a single, selfish, electrifying thought
that courses through me with a force that surprises me.
Chloe will be there. I'm going to see her again.
Speaker 1 (31:41):
I get the invite and it immediately made my day,
my month, my year.
Speaker 3 (31:50):
The air in Cabo is warm and thick, with a
scent of salt, but it does nothing to relax the
not in my stomach. This isn't a vacation. It's a
deployment to a war zone. I feel like I'm walking
into a trap. Mark and Jess are a mess of
forced smiles and brittle cheerfulness. The whole thing feels fragile,
like a beautiful sand castle about to be washed away
(32:10):
by the tide. Then I see her, Chloea, standing by
the pool bar, talking to the concierge. She's wearing a
simple green sun dress, and the five years since I
last saw her have only made her more beautiful. The
disembodied voice from my phone, the witty avatar in my
text thread, is suddenly breathtakingly real. She turns sees me,
(32:35):
and a smile of such genuine, unadulterated relief breaks across
her face that it knocks the air out of my lungs.
Speaker 1 (32:42):
Thank God, you're here. I need a co conspirator. Jess
has already alphabetized the spice rack and They're sweet, just
to distract herself from Mark.
Speaker 3 (32:51):
Oh no, we are so screwed. I laugh and the
awkwardness I've been fearing for weeks vanishes. We're just us again,
but it's different. Standing this close, I'm aware of the
faint freckles on her nose, the way the sunlight catches
the gold flex in her brown eyes. The easy intimacy
of our text now has a physical charge that is
(33:14):
impossible to ignore.
Speaker 1 (33:18):
The first night, at the big anniversary dinner, the cracks
start to show. It's a small thing. Mark orders a
bottle of wine that just doesn't like, and her polite Oh,
I thought we'd get the soving Don Blanc is laced
with enough ice to freeze the entire table. The argument
that follows is a masterclass in passive aggression, a quiet,
(33:38):
vicious battle fought with tight smiles and cliped sentences. It's
just fucking wine, I want to scream, But of course
it's so much more than that. Liam and I are
caught in the crossfire, a captive audience to their misery.
We exchange a single, exhausted look across the table. It's
the same look from the wedding fire five years ago,
(34:01):
but now it's not tinged with surprise. It's heavy, with
a grim resignation of a prophecy fulfilled. Later, Mark is
several whiskeys deep at the bar, complaining about how nothing
he does is ever right. I watch his limb expertly
navigates his friend's self pity and bitterness, not validating it,
but not antagonizing him either. He just listens a calm,
(34:25):
solid presence before staring the conversation to a lighter topic.
He handles him with such a quiet, patient strength. I
find myself staring, thinking he's so sexy, and how he
stays calm.
Speaker 3 (34:42):
Yep, you guessed it. The big explosion happens, and predictably,
it happens on a private catamaran trip, meant to be
the romantic highlight of the vacation. Out on the open
water with nowhere to run, just finally confronts Mark about
a friendly lunch he had with a female coworker. It's
an ugly screaming match in the middle of paradise. Jess
(35:03):
is crying, her accusation sharp and painful. Mark is defensive
and angry, and his voice rises with every denial. Chloe
immediately goes to Jess's side, her arm around her, speaking
in a low, soothing voice, trying to absorb her friend's pain.
She's so fiercely loyal, so protective in the face of
(35:24):
this tidal wave of ugly emotion. She is an anchor.
I'm in awe of her. Holy shit, she's amazing. Jess
eventually runs below deck, sobbing. Mark storms to the stern
of the boat, gripping the railing, his back to all
of us, and Chloe and I are left standing in
the wreckage. The beautiful sunny day rendered bleak and hollow.
Speaker 1 (35:49):
That night, after hours of counseling my sobbing, heartbroken friend,
I escaped to a deserted terrace overlooking the dark ocean.
I'm emotionally hollowed out, exhaust into my very bones. I
hear footsteps and turn to see Liam walking toward me,
a pottle of tequila and two shod glasses in his hand.
(36:09):
He doesn't say anything, he just pours and we drink.
The liquid fire is a wocme shock to my system.
We stand in silence for a long time, listening to
the waves crash against the shore. I don't think they're
going to make it. The words are easier to say
than I expected.
Speaker 3 (36:29):
I know.
Speaker 1 (36:31):
He turns to me, his face etched with a sadness
that mirrors my own.
Speaker 3 (36:35):
Thank you for being here, Chloe. I couldn't do this
without you.
Speaker 1 (36:40):
Me neither. And in that moment, and in that moment,
all the years of texts and phone calls, all the
shared secrets and unspoken truths, converge. We're not just friends.
We're partners in this, the only two people in the
world who understand the weight of this failure. He looks
at me, and his gaze is no longer just friendly
(37:02):
or appreciative. It's filled with five years of pent up emotion,
with an intensity that makes my breath catch. He reaches
out his hand, coming up to my face. His thumb
gently brushes a tear I didn't even know had fallen
from my cheek. The simple tender gesture is my undoing.
He leans in slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. I
(37:26):
lean in to meet him, my own resolve crumbling. This
is it, This is the moment I've been secretly, subconsciously
waiting for. Our lips are a millimeter apart, the air
thick and electric with the promise of a kiss I've
been dreaming about for half a decade. And then he stops.
(37:47):
He pulls back just a bit his eyes are filled
with a deep, agonizing regret, and then he drops his
hand and the connection is broken. The truth of it
is left hanging in the air between us, undeniable and irrevocable.
The smooth ride is over. We haven't kissed, but everything
(38:09):
has changed. We both know it.
Speaker 3 (38:14):
Maybe I'm an idiot. Of course I'm an idiot. But
it was all wrong. Our first kiss shouldn't have a
foundation of pity or concern or emotions based on a
couple's crumbling marriage. But Chloe's face is full of confusion,
and I wonder if I just ruined everything. Maybe we'll
never have a first kiss. And this was my last chance.
(38:35):
But then, and maybe I imagined it, or dreamt it,
or hoped for it. She nods ever so gently, as
if she's telling me I get it. I want it
too someday.
Speaker 1 (38:49):
The flight home from Cabo is the longest five hours
of my life. I'm trapped in a metal tube, suspended
between a moment that almost happened in a future that
is now completely terrifying uncertain. My mind is a looping
reel of the night on the terrace, the sound of
the waves, the sadness in his eyes, the warmth of
his thumb on my cheek. He leaned in. I leaned in,
(39:11):
and then nothing. Why did he stop? The question tortures
me for a split second. I had been so certain,
the years of quiet, text based intimacy, the easy rapport,
the shared secret of our friend's failing marriage, it had
all been leading to that one inevitable point, and he stopped.
(39:33):
I know Liam well enough to know that there's a reason,
an important one, and I think, in the moment my
trust of him is so complete that I accepted it.
But back in my quiet apartment, the tat begins to fester.
Maybe I imagined it all, maybe the weak the stress,
that tequila. Maybe I projected my own feelings onto him.
(39:55):
He was just being a good friend, comforting me, and
I tried to turn it into something more. He probably
thinks I'm pathetic. The easy, constant flow of our text
has dried up. A painful silence stretches for days. I'm
terrified to be the first to break it to seem
too eager. I'm devastating to think that, in one moment
of near vulnerability, I've broken the most important friendship I have.
(40:19):
A week later, I'm lying in bed tangled in my sheets,
my body aching with a frustration that's more than just physical.
I close my eyes and I'm back on that terrace.
I can feel the warm he would err on my skin.
I see him lean in, his eyes, dark and full
of that same agonizing want that I feel, but this
(40:42):
time in the privacy of my own mind. He doesn't stop.
His lips meet mine, and a fantasy is so vivid.
I gasp. It's not a gentle kiss. It's a kiss
of pure desperate desire, his mouth claiming mine, his hands
sliding from my face down to my neck, his fingers
tangling in my hair. I imagine him backing me up against
(41:05):
the cool, stuck a wall of the resort, his body
pressing into mind the hard ridge of his cocus, solid,
undeniable promise against my stomach, not to be denied, even
while separated by clothing. My hand slides down between my legs,
my fingers finding my clit already wet and swollen. I
stroked myself to the rhythm of our imaginary kiss. My
(41:28):
orgasm a short, sharp, almost angry release, a wave of
pleasure mixed with the bitter taste of a moment that
was stolen from me, or worse, a moment that was
never really mine at all.
Speaker 3 (41:42):
An idiot. The thought has been on a constant loop
in my head since I got back from Cobo. I
had her, she was right there looking at me with
an expression that was so open, so ready, and I stopped.
I choked in some misguided attempt to be noble, not
like this. I killed the moment, and now I've killed
(42:04):
a friendship too. Her silence is deafening. I checked my
phone a dozen times an hour, hoping for a text,
a meme, anything to show that we're okay, but nothing.
She must think I'm not interested. She must think that
for me it was just the tequila talking. She has
no idea that, in that moment, leaning in to kiss her,
(42:27):
it felt like the only sane, real thing that had
happened all week. I've made everything awkward. I've broken our
secret world. I'm alone in my home office at my
drafting table a few weeks later, trying to work, but
my mind is useless. My own dating life feels like
a joke, a series of hollow conversations with women who
(42:50):
feel like strangers. No one gets my humor like Chloe does.
No one listens like she does. High lean back in
my chair in the sense of the jasmine blooming outside
my window reminds me of the tropical air and Cabo.
I close my eyes. I think of her, the way
her lithe body effortlessly makes a sun dress the sexiest
(43:11):
clothing known to man. Now, just being close to her
makes me adjust my pants in a way that I
hope she's not noticing. We're so connected that our lives
are effortlessly erotic. My hand drops to my lap and
I release my hard cock. I think of Chloe, and
I wrap my fingers around it, stroking as I picture
what should have happened after the kiss we should have shared.
(43:35):
I imagine her in my hotel room, the tension finally breaking
her back against the door. As I kiss her deeply,
I see myself kneeling before her, parting her legs, my
tongue finding the sweet, wet heat of her. I can
almost taste her, hear the little gasps and moans she
would make as I licked her. My fantasy isn't about
(43:56):
me taking. It's about her letting go, about being the
one to finally make her come apart. But thought is
so powerful, so consuming, that I come with a few
quick strokes, a hard, frustrated orgasm that leaves me feeling
empty and full of regret.
Speaker 1 (44:16):
I'm going to be honest. I've always masturbated to Liam,
but now I do it like a lot. I can't
stop thinking of him, and for some reason, it's about
us together, naked and doing everything, fucking making love, holding
each other.
Speaker 3 (44:38):
Dudes are going to say online, but I haven't looked
at porn in ages. I had just close my eyes,
think of Chloe and get instantly hard. I'm actually starting
to wonder if it's a bad thing, like I've replaced
our real friendship with this fantasy sexual life that never existed.
But then my phone buzzes.
Speaker 1 (44:58):
It's her, Hey, just checking in. Heard from Jess. Things
are still tense.
Speaker 3 (45:05):
I stare at the text. It's so formal, so distant,
a status report. I feel a chill despite the Texas heat. Yeah,
Mark's been quiet. Thanks for letting me.
Speaker 1 (45:18):
Know, no problem.
Speaker 3 (45:21):
Years of constant, easy intimate conversation and we've been reduced
to no problem. I want to type what happened to us?
I want to type I'm sorry I stopped. I want
to type I think I've fallen in love with you Instead,
I type nothing.
Speaker 1 (45:41):
Three more months of this excruciating, polite distance pass. We
exchange logistical updates about our friends, like two co workers
on a project that has gone sour. Every stilted text
is a fresh twist of the knife. Then one Thursday afternoon,
my phone rings. It's Liam. My hand trembles as I answer.
Speaker 3 (46:04):
Hey, did you hear hear?
Speaker 1 (46:07):
What is just okay? There's a pause and I hear
him take a deep, weary breath. On the other end
of the line.
Speaker 3 (46:15):
Mark called me this morning. He and Jess are getting
a divorce.
Speaker 1 (46:21):
The words hang in the air between us, shattering the awkward,
fragile silence we've been living in for months. I sink
onto my couch, a wave of sadness from my friends
washing over me. But underneath it, another feeling surfaces. Something
I'm ashamed to even acknowledge, the realization that the official
(46:41):
reason for our connection, our whole shared project, is now over.
The crisis we always talked about has finally arrived, forcing
its way through the wall of doubt and silence we've built,
and now there's nothing left to hide behind. But more
than anything, I'm filled with profound sorrow. What the fuck
(47:02):
am I doing this? Can't be the uncanon.
Speaker 3 (47:08):
After the call, I sit in the dark of my
apartment for a long time. The divorce is a tragedy,
a sad inevitable end to something that started with so
much hope. I feel a deep egg for my friends.
But underneath that sadness is a current of something else,
something sharp and urgent clarity. All the reasons for keeping
(47:30):
my distance from Chloe, all the carefully constructed barriers, have
just been bulldozed. The fear of making things awkward, of
betraying our job, of ruining our friendship. It all seems
so small now, so pointless, in the face of this
undeniable truth. Life is too damn short not to be
with the person you love. And I love her. I've
(47:53):
loved her through years of text and late night phone calls.
I've loved her from one thousand miles away. I'm not
sure how the tense anniversary made me push away, but
the divorce does the opposite. I think I've said this before.
I'm an idiot, and in wallowing in my idiotnss, it
hits me. There's no context for love. Loving someone while
(48:18):
bad things are happening, doesn't make the love less real?
How could I think that? And then another thought hits me.
I needed Chloe to teach me that, and she did,
but I was too dumb to see it. I don't think,
I just act. I'd booked the first flight out in
the morning. I text her from the taxi on the
(48:38):
way to her apartment, my heart hammering against my ribs.
I'm in Chicago. I need to see you.
Speaker 1 (48:46):
His text isn't a question, It's a statement, and it
sends a shockwave of terror and relieve through my entire body.
I spend the next twenty minutes pacing my apartment, a
frantic mess of hope and fear. The doorbell rings. I
feel like my soul is going to leave my body.
I open the door and he's there. He looks tired
(49:08):
from the flight, but he's real. He's here. All the stilted,
awkward distance of the last few months evaporates in the
face of his physical presence.
Speaker 3 (49:18):
Liam Chloe, I'm so sorry for being weird after Cabo,
She smiles, her incredibly charming and unbelievably sexy smile.
Speaker 1 (49:32):
Now, Liam, doesn't this fit me? It could have been
an email category.
Speaker 3 (49:36):
Her casual humor is so natural, so perfect, so us.
I don't reply. I just stepped forward and wrapped my
arms around her, pulling her into a hook. She buries
her face in the crook of my neck. It feels
so comfortable, so right.
Speaker 1 (49:58):
Definitely not an email. The feeling of his solid, warm
body against mine is a lit fuse. I'm not just
holding my friend, I'm holding the man I want more
than anything in the world. I cling to him, the
hud becoming a desperate, silent plea.
Speaker 3 (50:14):
We hold ourselves together and it feels like we are one.
The feel of her, the reality of her in my arms,
shatters any illusion that this is a hug between just friends.
It can't be not anymore. I pull back just enough
to look at her. My hand's coming up to cup
her face. Her eyes are shining with a fire I've
(50:35):
seen in her before, but the fire now is different,
and it's focused entirely and thoroughly on me. All the doubt,
all the fear of the last few months, is gone,
replaced by a single, searing certainty. I close the space
that has separated us for five long years, and I
kiss her. It's not the almost kiss from Combo. This
(50:58):
is a kiss of absent conviction. It's a deep searching,
soul bearing kiss. That's his everything we've been afraid to say.
It's years of longing, a friendship, of shared secrets, all
poured in the one moment. Her lips are soft and yielding,
her response immediate and overwhelming. This isn't a spark, It's
(51:20):
an inferno. I break the kiss, breathless. Let's get out
of here. She looks at me, a beautiful rye smile
on her face, and just shakes her head.
Speaker 1 (51:32):
We're already here.
Speaker 3 (51:34):
She takes my hand and leads me toward the bedroom.
Speaker 1 (51:38):
The world narrows to just this, his hand in mine,
the soft light of my bedroom, the unspoken promise of
a Finally, he undresses me, each unsnapped button followed by
a light kiss. When he gets on his knees and
pulls my jeans down, his hands are on my ass
(51:58):
and his face is ancient from my pussy. I'm wetter
than I've ever been before. He slides my panties down
and kisses me on the lips, a gentle kiss in
the most erotic way possible. He stands up and looks
at me.
Speaker 3 (52:14):
You are the hottest, most gorgeous woman that has ever
walked the planet.
Speaker 1 (52:19):
I pull his arm and playfully shove him on the bed.
Let's get you more comfortable, and then I do the
same for him. My fingers trace the hard lines of
his chest and the muscles in his arms as I
undress him. When we are finally skinned to skin, tangled
together on my bed, it feels less like a beginning
(52:40):
and more like a place we always were. He has
all gentle hands and soft kisses, and I want to scream.
He lowers himself and continues the kiss he started earlier,
licking me, socking my pussy lips, and then my clip.
I could come at any moment. As I arch into him,
my body desperate from or I give. His armis like
(53:02):
tug loam. He looks down at me, his eyes dark
with a passion that mirrors my own.
Speaker 3 (53:09):
I know.
Speaker 1 (53:11):
He positions himself above me, and we kiss again, his
hard cock pressed against my pussy. I can't stop myself,
and as we kiss, I rub my pussy up and
down against his hard length. He pulls back and reaches down.
The moment he enters me, a soft and voluntary cry
escapes my lips. It's a sound of pure, unadulterated desire,
(53:34):
finally fulfilled. The feeling of him filling me, of our
bodies finally joined after years of being separated by circumstance
and fear, is the most profound sensation of my life.
Speaker 3 (53:47):
Finally being inside her is everything. It's the end of
a long, lonely journey. It's a feeling of rightness so
absolute it almost brings tears to my eyes. She's warm
and wet and tight around me, and she feels like
she was made for me. I thrust in and out
of her, just enjoying the feeling, just enjoying us. It's
(54:12):
not just sex, it's a conversation. Our bodies have been
waiting years to have. I thrust faster and deeper. Everyone
a declaration of something I knew but never said. Every
moan she makes is an answer. I leaned down and
whisper into her ear. I love you, Chloe, I love
you too. Her fingers dig into my back.
Speaker 1 (54:35):
I've always loved you.
Speaker 3 (54:38):
I grab her and roll us over, and she's now
on top of me. She gives me a sly smile
and slowly rocks her hips. It feels unbelievable.
Speaker 1 (54:49):
You are so going to regret that I.
Speaker 3 (54:52):
Smile back at her. All the comfort and joy we've
experienced on the phone and via text and even in
stressful environments is here too. Everything feels so natural. I
seriously doubt that our conversation continues with our bodies. She
rides me with a fierce, beautiful abandon and I'm completely
(55:13):
lost in her. And she leans down, her hair falling
around us like a curtain, and her mouth finds mine
as her hips continue. They're perfect, relentless rhythm. It's the
ultimate intimacy, a complete joining of mouth and body and soul.
My orgasm builds with an intensity I've never known, a
(55:33):
tidal wave of five years of waiting. I cry out
her name as I come, a raw, unrestrained sound of pure,
explosive joy.
Speaker 1 (55:44):
I feel him throb inside me, and the intensity of
his orgasm sends me over the edge. My own orgasm explodes,
and I throw my head back and press my hips down,
feeling my body pulse. A smiling liamb benit me.
Speaker 3 (56:01):
We go to sleep together, we wake up together. We
go to sleep together again, and we wake up together.
I spend the week with Chloe, but I eventually have
to return to Austin, and when I do, I'm filled
with a deep sadness. The week felt like a moment,
it felt like a lifetime.
Speaker 1 (56:22):
It's two wonderful years later. I am standing in a beautiful,
rustic garden at the late afternoon sun warm on my shoulders.
I'm in a simple white dress. Liam's standing opposite me,
his eyes shining, looking at me with that same look
of love and passion he had on his face in
my bedroom that first night. Our friend is officiating, and
(56:45):
he's just gone to the part about the rings. I
turn in. My mate of honor hands me Liam's ring.
Jess gives my hand a squeeze, her eyes bright and
genuinely happy for me. I turn to Liam and I
see him standing with his bed man. Mark catches my
eye and gives me a warm support of nod. They
had both been so gracious, so happy for us, their
(57:08):
own pain, having settled into a quiet, respectful friendship. Their
marriage had been the reason we met, It's failure, the
reason we finally came together, a strange, painful, beautiful journey.
Liam slides the ring on my finger, his hand warm
and steady. You did it, he whispers, the words, just
(57:29):
for me. A callback to another lifetime, on another beach.
We did it. I whisper back, a perfect joyful smile
breaking across my face, and this time there is no
doubt in my mind at all.
Speaker 2 (57:48):
Thanks so much for listening to my podcast. I'm Roxy
Callahan and my Erotic Whispers are brought to you by
tenth Muse Studios ast MSTSTSTSTSTSTSTO must mister must Haustoms dest
Hey there. This is Annie and I play Emma in
the Swipewright series of episodes here on Roxy's Erotic Whispers.
I just wanted to let you know that Roxy has
all of the Swipewright stories now available in a deluxe ebook.
You can find it on Amazon at Roxy dot show
slash swipe right All one word. If you enjoyed the
(00:21):
swipe Right episodes, you'll love reading ebook. Hello, my loveleees.
Speaker 2 (00:27):
I'm Roxy Callahan and welcome to my Erotic Whispers, the
podcast where I celebrate women's romance and sexuality. We all
deserve both, don't we well. I adore short stories where
it's all about the passion and the intensity of the moment.
I also love the long, slow build, where the moment
(00:48):
the couple get together isn't just about the moment, it's
also about.
Speaker 1 (00:53):
All that came before.
Speaker 2 (00:55):
That's what you'll find in this week's story, a man
and woman brought together when their best friends get married,
and how this leads to the moment where they find
themselves in each other's arms. The wonderful actors this week
are Annie b and Clint. Finally, don't forget. This podcast
is intended for adult listeners.
Speaker 1 (01:20):
The air that hits me as I step out of
the shuttle is a solid wall of heat and humidity,
thick with the scent of salt and hibiscus. Welcome to Paradise, or,
in my case, welcome to the operational theater for the
biggest event of my best friend Jess's life. My linen
dress is already starting to cling to my back as
(01:41):
I wrestle my carry on, the bride's emergency kit and
my ringing phone. It's the florist, of course, it's the florist. No,
the penies need to be a soft blosh, not hot pink.
I'm trying to keep the frantic edge out of my voice. Yes,
I'm sure, I'll forward you the swatch again. I end
(02:01):
the call with a sigh. My mission for the next
five days crystal clear. In sure Jess has the perfect
stress free wedding she's been dreaming of since we were kids.
This is not a vacation, This is a deployment. Later
that evening, at the welcome reception on a terrace overlooking
the ocean, I'm in full made of honor mode. I've
(02:23):
smoothed over a seating chart crisis located the groom's missing
cufflink and now I'm just trying to have a five
minute conversation with Jess's aunt. Mike Gaze sweeps the crowd,
doing a mental headcount, and that's when I see him.
He's exactly where you'd expect him to be, the center
of the loudest group, leaning against the tiki bar. He's
(02:45):
holding a beer, tanned and relaxed in a white linen shirt,
laughing at something one of the other groomsmen said. He
has that easy, sun kissed confidence that comes from a
life of things probably going his way. The best man
Liam I've been on email chains with him for months.
His message is always brief, bordering on flip it. Now
(03:07):
seeing him in person, my initial assessment solidifies great. I think,
taking a sip of my lukewarm champagne, the best Man
is a frat boy. This is going to be a
long week. He's handsome, I'll give him that, with a
strong jaw and eyes that seem to sparkle even from
across the terrace. But he looks like a professional vacationer,
(03:29):
not someone who understands the logistical intricacies of a destination wedding.
He looks like a distraction he looks like trouble.
Speaker 3 (03:40):
I take a long pull from my beer, the cold
bottle a welcome relief in the humid evening air. The
resort is incredible, and my best friend Mark is practically
vibrating with a mixture of joy and sheer teror, which
is exactly as it should be. The groomsmen are in
good spirits. I've already scoped out the best spots on
the beach, and the week is off to a perfect start.
(04:02):
My only remaining task for the evening is to finally
lay eyes on a legendary maid of honor. Mark has
been talking about her for months, Chloe the super planner,
Chloe who has a binder for everything, Chloe who probably
has a contingency planned for a hurricane. The only positive
thing he said about her is that she's kind of hot.
(04:23):
My impression is of some kind of beautiful, terrifying drill
sergeant in address. I'm scanning the crowd for someone who
fits the description. When I see her, She's talking to
one of the bride's ancient aunts. But her focus isn't total.
Her eyes are scanning, assessing, managing. She is a whirlwind
of contained, focused energy. Her brow frowed in concentration even
(04:46):
as she smiles politely. She's wearing a simple blue dress
that makes her stand out against the right of tropical prints,
and her dark hair is pulled back in a way
that somehow both elegant and severe. She looks completely out
of place and totally in control. And she's beautiful in
(05:06):
a sharp, intelligent way that's far more interesting than the
easy bikini clap beauty dotting the rest of the resort.
So that's the famous Chloe, I think to myself, a
grin spreading across my face. She looks like she's single
handedly holding this entire event together through sheer force of will.
My first thought is an overwhelming, instinctual urge. Someone needs
(05:30):
to get her a Margarita stat.
Speaker 1 (05:34):
The next morning, I'm sitting in a stuffy, air conditioned
conference room with a resort's wedding coordinator, a woman whose
fixed smile is more annoying than pleasant. My binder is open,
my checklist is highlighted, and we are, I'm afraid to say,
behind schedule. The problem is the processional. The walk from
the hotel entrance to the ceremony arch is ninety two seconds.
(05:57):
I'm tapping my pen on the Layanth diagram. Jess is adamant.
She wants to walk to the acoustic version of Yellow.
That song has a forty second instrumental intro before the
first verse even begins. We have to cut it off
mid chorus. He could suggest a different song. We could
also suggest you getting married in a courthouse. The door
(06:18):
opens and Liam strolls in, looking infuriatingly relaxed in a
pair of shorts and a faded T shirt, sunglasses perched
on his head. He smells faintly of sunscreen and.
Speaker 3 (06:28):
Salt Martin Ladies.
Speaker 1 (06:31):
He flashes a brilliant smile.
Speaker 3 (06:34):
Sorry, Mark needed some moral support about the Cummerbund crisis, averted.
Speaker 1 (06:39):
I give him a tight nod and point to the
empty chair beside me. We're discussing a timing issue with
a processional. He sits in for the next ten minutes.
He listens as the coordinator and I go back and forth.
He's quiet, but I can feel his presence a pocket
of calm amusement next to my storm of logistical anxiety.
(07:00):
At one point, I suggest having a string quartet Plaine
accelerated version, and he audibly snorts. I shoot him a
glare what.
Speaker 3 (07:10):
Nothing?
Speaker 1 (07:11):
He holds his hands up and surrender.
Speaker 3 (07:13):
Just picturing Coldplay on speed. It's a bold choice for
a wedding march.
Speaker 1 (07:19):
I'm about to make a sharper tour. When he leans forward,
tapping a finger on the map of the resort, crowns.
Speaker 3 (07:25):
Hang on, what's this path here behind the Infinity Pool?
Speaker 1 (07:29):
A service path?
Speaker 3 (07:31):
But it leads right past the garden where the ceremony is.
Speaker 1 (07:33):
Right, He looks at me, his eyes surprisingly focused.
Speaker 3 (07:37):
Why does Jess have to start her walk from the
hotel lobby? Why can't she start from back there? Give
her a much longer, more dramatic approach through the gardens,
and you easily add two minutes to the walk. You'd
get the full intro, the first verse, and the entire chorus.
She could hit the aisle right as the song swells.
Speaker 1 (07:56):
It's a service path.
Speaker 3 (07:59):
Sure, but it's between the pool and that beautiful cops
of trees. It's actually more striking of an entrance than
past all the shads, lounges and concrete.
Speaker 1 (08:08):
The coordinator and I both stare at the map. It's
so simple, it's elegant. It's a far better solution than
my frantic music butchering idea. It's perfect. I'm momentarily speechless,
stunned that this laid back cummerbun joking beach bump just
solved the one problem I've been losing sleepover for weeks.
(08:29):
I look at him, really look at him, and see
passed the easy smile for the first time. There's a sharp,
crave intelligence there that I hadn't clocked at all. That
is actually a brilliant idea.
Speaker 3 (08:46):
I walk into the meeting feeling like I've crashed a
war council. Chloe is in full commander mode, her pana weapon,
the wedding coordinator, and her beleaguered subordinate. She looks incredible,
all business in a crisp sundress, but she's rating enough
stress to power a small city. I try to lighten
the mood with the Cumberbun story, and it doesn't land.
(09:08):
Tough crowd, I think, settling into my chair, I listen
as they debate song links and walking speeds. It's impressive
her attention to detail, but they're both stuck in the weeds.
They're trying to change the song to fit the path
instead of changing the path to fit the song. I
see the service path on the map, a little dotted
(09:28):
line they both overlooked. I'm a landscape architect, seeing how
people move through a space is literally what I do.
I offer up my idea, half expecting her to dismiss it. Instead,
she just stares at the map, then at me. Her
brow smooths out, the hard focused line of her mouth softens.
(09:48):
The look she gives me is one of pure, unadulterated surprise,
and then I see it a flicker of genuine respect.
Speaker 1 (09:59):
That is actually a brilliant idea.
Speaker 3 (10:02):
Her praise hits me with a ridiculous jolt of pride.
It's one thing to have one hundred people laugh at
a joke at the bar. It's another to have this
one formidable woman look at you like you've just earned
her respect. The tension in the room dissipates. She gives
me a small, almost shy smile, and I can suddenly
picture her without the binder and the stress, laughing over
(10:25):
a drink. The thought is unexpectedly appealing. My initial amusement
at the superplanner is solidifying into something else, genuine intrigue.
The week just got a whole lot more interesting.
Speaker 1 (10:42):
The rehearsal dinner is held on a secluded part of
the beach, under a canopy of twinkling string lights. The
day's stress is melted away, replaced by the warm, celebratory
buzz of the evening. Liam and I are seated next
to each other, and the easy report we found this
morning has deepened in the something surprisingly comfortable. We talk
about our lives back home. Our jobs are shared encyclopedic
(11:06):
knowledge of bad nineties action movies. He's funny and sharp,
and I find myself laughing, a real, unburdened laugh that
feels like a release. But as the speeches begin, a
lot of anxiety tightens in my stomach. It's not just nerves.
I look at Jess and Mark sitting at the head table,
(11:27):
glowing and happy, and I feel a terrible pang of guilt.
I love just more than anyone, and I want this
for her, I truly do. But I was there last
month when Mark casually dismissed her dream of opening her
own studio as a cute hobby. I saw the light
go out of her eyes for a moment. I'm supposed
to stand up and toast it there forever, but a
(11:49):
traitorous voice in my head keeps whispering, do you actually
believe that? When it's my turn, I stand up, my
hands trembling slightly, look at Jess, push the doubt down,
and speak from the heart, focusing only on our two
decades of friendship and the joy she feels. Right now.
(12:10):
My speech is full of love and it's all true,
but it feels incomplete, like a beautiful painting of a
house I'm not sure is structurally sound. As I sit down,
my heart pounding, I catch Liam's eye. He gives me
a slow, deliberate nod, his expression unreadable but intense. It
(12:30):
doesn't feel like simple applause. It feels like acknowledgment. Then
it's his turn. I'm expecting a classic best man roast,
but as he begins to speak, I realize he's walking
the same emotional tightrope I just did. He tells a
hilarious story about Mark, but then his tone shifts. He
(12:51):
talks about loyalty, about what it means to truly support someone.
His words are for Mark, but he keeps finding my
gaze in the crowd, fleeting repeated connection. I see the deep,
genuine love he has for his friend, but I also
see a flicker of the same worry. I feel his
speech isn't just a celebration, it's a prayer for their future.
(13:15):
It's an act of hope against his better judgment, And
in that moment, watching this man navigate the same complicated
feelings that I'm drowning in, my attraction to him deepens
into something far more profound.
Speaker 3 (13:31):
Dinner with Chloe is a revelation. The hyper focused commander
from this morning has been replaced by a witty, engaging
woman who can quote Roadhouse verbatim and has an opinion
on everything. I'm completely captivated. A conversation is effortless, and
I feel a powerful, undeniable connection taking route, But as
(13:53):
the speeches start, a familiar anxiety creeps in. I love
Mark like a brother. He's the best guy I know.
But I've also seen Jess's ambition completely steam while his
own desires more than once. He's so easy going he'll
agree to anything to keep the peace, and I worry
that one day he'll wake up and not recognize the
life he's living. I'm supposed to get up and give
(14:16):
this glowing endorsement of their union, and it feels like
I'm selling a beautiful fantasy. I'm not entirely sure, I
believe in. Just before it's my turn, Chloe gets up
to speak. She's brilliant, of course, eloquent, funny, and full
of genuine love for Jess. But I can see the
tension in her shoulders, the slight tremor in her hand
(14:37):
as she holds her note card. I can see her
carefully choosing her words, and I get the overwhelming feeling
that she's fighting the same battle I am. When she
sits down, I give her a nod, trying to convey
everything I can't say. I know that was hard, you
did great. Her smile in return is small, and it
(15:00):
feels like she understands. It's all the encouragement I need.
I stand up and deliver my speech. I mean every
word about my love remark and how happy Jess makes him.
But underneath it, I'm silently begging them, please talk to
each other, Please don't lose yourselves. As the last sentence
(15:21):
hangs in the air and applause breaks out, there's only
one person's reaction I care about. My eyes find her instantly.
She's looking at me with an expression of such profound,
knowing admiration that it steals my breath. It's not just
for the speech, it's for the truth behind it. She
gets it. Her approval is the only validation that matters
(15:44):
to me. A silent confirmation that I'm not crazy, that
I'm not alone in my concern. As I sit down,
a simple, terrifying and exhilarating thought rings through my head
with absolute clarity. Oh wow, I really really like her.
Speaker 1 (16:04):
The day of the wedding is a beautiful, orchestrated chaos.
I'm a blur of motion, steaming Jesse's veil, calming her nerves,
fixing a bridesmaid's smeared eyeliner, and having a very stern,
quiet word with a caterer about the kanapez. Across the
bustling resort grounds, I catch glimpses of Liam in his
own whirlwind. I see him wrestling with a groomsman, stubborn
(16:27):
bow tie, then later corralling them all for photos, a
look of humorous exasperation on his face. We exchange a
few frantic, wide eyed glances over the heads of the guests,
a silent shared language that says, can you believe this circus? Well,
we're in this together. Finally, the moment arrives, the guests
(16:47):
are seated. The music starts. I've just finished arranging Jesse's train,
and she's taking a deep, shaky breath on her father's arm,
ready for her grand entrance for the first time and hours.
There's nothing for me to do but wait. I step
back into the shade of a palm tree, my own
heart hammering a nervous rhythm against my ribs. You did it,
(17:11):
Liam is beside me. I hadn't even heard him approach.
He's standing there in his suit, looking impossibly handsome, his
eyes crinkling at the corners. We did it. A smile
breaks through my stress barely.
Speaker 3 (17:26):
Nah, you did it. Everything's perfect. She looks, Wow, she does.
Speaker 1 (17:33):
My throat suddenly tightens with emotion. He looks at me,
his smile softening.
Speaker 3 (17:38):
You look pretty wild yourself.
Speaker 1 (17:41):
Before I can even process the compliment, his gaze narrows.
Speaker 3 (17:45):
You've got a little hold still.
Speaker 1 (17:48):
He reaches out, his movements, gentle and sure. A small
white blossom from my own bouquet has gotten tangled in
a loose strand of the hair by my temple. His
fingers brush against my skin as he carefully works it free.
The touch is featherlight, practical, and it sends a jolt
of pure electricity straight through my body. The entire chaotic,
(18:10):
noisy world of the wedding, the music, the rustling guest,
the distant ocean fades into a dull, silent hum. All
I can feel is the shocking, unexpected warmth of his
fingertips against my skin. The spark I'd felt before is
now a full blown, undeniable fire.
Speaker 3 (18:32):
I get Mark to the altar, give his shoulders a
final firm squeeze, and step back into place. My job
is mostly done. I scan the scene and everything looks perfect,
exactly as planned. My eyes find Chloe standing just out
of sight of the guests. She's watching Jess, and the
look on her face is one of such fears profound
(18:52):
love for her friend that it makes my chest ache.
She has done an incredible job. I walk over stand
beside her, needing to share this final quiet moment before
the ceremony begins. You did it, I say it, and
I mean it. As she turns to me, I see it.
(19:13):
A small white flower is caught in her hair, a
tiny imperfection in her otherwise flawless appearance. You've got a
little hold still, and without thinking I reach out to
fix it. It's an automatic gesture, an impulse to correct
a small detail. The second my fingers may contact with
the silky strands of her hair and the warm, soft
(19:35):
skin of her temple, something shifts. The innocent gesture is
suddenly charged with an intimacy that catches me completely off guard.
I'm acutely aware of the faint, clean scent of her perfume,
the way the tiny hairs at her temple curls softly.
The jolt that goes through me is a sudden, sharp,
undeniable awareness of her, not as Chloe the Planner, not
(19:59):
as my new friend, but as a woman I'm intensely,
terrifyingly attracted to. I pull my hand back a little
too quickly, the free and flower held between my fingers.
I can feel the heat rising in my own face.
The easy, comfortable line of our new friendship has just
become irrevocably blurred in This sudden, terrifying thought that I
(20:21):
might be falling for the maid of honor at my
best friend's wedding hits me like a rogue wave.
Speaker 1 (20:28):
The reception is a whirlwind of dancing, champagne and heartfelt congratulations.
Sometime after midnight, the band slows things down. I'm standing
by the edge of the dance floor watching jessin mark
sway together. When Liam appears at my.
Speaker 3 (20:44):
Side, May I have this dance made of honor?
Speaker 1 (20:48):
His voice is a warm sound over the music. I
nod and he leads me onto the dance floor. He
rests a hand on the small of my back, and
I place mine on his shoulder. The fit is easy, natural.
After a week of running on pure adrenaline, being this
close to him, moving slowly to the music feels like
(21:08):
the first real moment of calm I've had. I rest
my head against his shoulder. The scent of his cologne
and the clean salt air smell of his skin filling
my senses. Electric spark from before the ceremony has settled
into a deep, comfortable hum of awareness. I'm acutely aware
of his hand on my back, of the strength of
his shoulders, of the way our bodies move together as one.
(21:32):
It's dangerously intoxicatingly easy.
Speaker 3 (21:37):
I see her standing alone, and I don't even think
about it. I just walk over and ask her to dance.
Holding her in my arms feels correct. It feels like
the most natural thing in the world. Her head rests
on my shoulder, and I can feel the soft strands
of her hair against my cheek. She's finally relaxed, the
(21:58):
formidable planner placed by this warm, graceful woman who fits
so perfectly against me. My mind is a mess of
conflicting thoughts. I'm trying to keep this feeling in the
new friend category, but my body isn't listening. All I
can think is that I don't want this dance, or
this week to end. The song fades and we step apart,
(22:23):
the spell broken. We watch our friends now laughing and
accepting congratulations from a table of relatives. Well, I guess
we're officially the co presidents of the keep Mark and
Just Married Club. Now. She laughs, but it's a soft,
fleeting sound. Her smile fades as she looks at them,
and her expression becomes unreadable, tinged with something I can
(22:45):
only describe as concern. They look happy, don't they? I
leave the question hanging in the air, a test. She
picks up on the subtext. Immediately, her gaze meets mine,
and for the first time, all of her carefully constructed
walls are down.
Speaker 1 (23:02):
They too, I just hope.
Speaker 3 (23:06):
Her voice trails off, unable to say the words, I
have to know, I'm not crazy. You've seen it too,
haven't you. My voice is low, so only she can
hear the little things, the way she makes all these decisions,
and he just goes along. Her shoulders slump with a
wave that looks like pure, unadulterated relief, and.
Speaker 1 (23:27):
How he reacts by getting dismissive and detached.
Speaker 3 (23:31):
Her eyes shine with unshd tears.
Speaker 1 (23:33):
I've been watching them and feeling like the world's worst
friend for even thinking about it.
Speaker 3 (23:38):
The words hit me with the force of a confession
I didn't know I was waiting to hear. Oh my god,
A laugh of pure, astonished relief escapes me. I was
thinking the same thing, I had no one to tell
it to.
Speaker 1 (23:52):
Hearing him say it, hearing my own secret, terrible thought
I good back at me, is the most profound moment
of connection I've ever elt. I'm not a bad friend,
I'm not cynical. I'm not alone in this. He sees
it too, He gets it. The weight I've been carrying
on my shoulders all week, the guilt of my own observations,
(24:14):
suddenly lifts. We should we have to stay in touch.
It's not a polite suggestion anymore. It's a necessity for them, Yeah,
for them. He pulls out his phone and I pull
out mine. We exchange numbers under the fairy lights, and
the simple act feels like a pact, a secret alliance.
(24:37):
The night ends an hour later. We say our goodbyes
in a group with hugs and promises to see each
other at the next big event. But the look we
share is different. It's a private farewell, an acknowledgment of
the secret we now share. As I get into the
shuttle headed for the airport, I watch him standing on
the curb and I feel a sharp, unexpected pang of loss.
(25:00):
It's a feeling that's far too strong for someone I've
only known for a week.
Speaker 3 (25:05):
I watch her leave, and in a way I can't explain,
I'm completely devastated.
Speaker 1 (25:13):
The first few months after the wedding, life returns to
its normal rhythm. The tan fades, the biner goes on
a shelf, and the weekend paradise feels like a strange,
beautiful dream. The one thing that remains is the text
thread with Liam. It starts as an extension of our duties,
a place to check in. Did just sound okay to you?
This week mark mentioned they are looking at houses, but
(25:36):
it quickly becomes something more. It's six months after the
wedding and my phone buzz is on my desk. It's
a picture from Liam, a perfectly arranged, ridiculously tiny plate
of food from some high end restaurant.
Speaker 3 (25:51):
I got this meal and thought of you bet the
logistics for this plate were a nightmare.
Speaker 1 (25:56):
I laugh out loud. It's a callback to a joke
we made during the wedding about the overly fussy appetizers.
That's not a meal, that's a hostage situation for a
single pee. Did you need tweezers? They eat it.
Speaker 3 (26:09):
The waiters seemed very proud. I think it costs more
than my flight to the wedding.
Speaker 1 (26:14):
Unacceptable. You should have demanded a hot dog instead next time.
Speaker 3 (26:19):
How are things in your world? Commander?
Speaker 1 (26:22):
All quite on the Western front for now? I've put
my phone down, a smile still on my face. It's
just easy. There's no pressure and no expectation. Talking to
him is like a pocket of sunshine in the middle
of a dreary work day. It's just friendship. Of course.
It is.
Speaker 3 (26:42):
A year passes, then another. The texts become a daily habit,
the lifeblood of a friendship that feels more real than
most I have in person. The keep the married club
has gone from a joke to a full time, unpaid,
and increasingly stressful job. One night, around one am, my
phone rings. It's Mark. He's drunk, slurring his words, going
(27:06):
on and on about a huge fight he had with
Jess about her career. He says she's selfish. He says
she doesn't care about their future. It's ugly, and I
spent an hour talking him down from a ledge of
pure self pity. When I hang up, the silence in
my apartment is deafening. My first immediate instinct isn't to
go to sleep, It's to call Chloe. She picks up
(27:29):
on the second ring, her voice thick with sleep. Liam,
what's wrong, Sorry to wake you. I just got off
the film with Mark.
Speaker 1 (27:38):
Oh no, let me guess. He thinks Jess is a
career obsessed workaholic because she's up for a promotion.
Speaker 3 (27:44):
The accuracy is so perfect, so complete, that I feel
a wave of relief wash over me. She gets it,
She's the only one who gets it. That's the one
I sink on to my couch. He was talking about
leaving her. We talk for the better part of an hour.
We talk about the context that both Jess and Mark
seem to miss or refuse to communicate, about the sacrifices
(28:09):
Jess has made that Mark conveniently forgets Mark's toxic responses
to conflict. I give her insight into Mark's deep seated
fear of being left behind. Together, we piece together the full, messy,
complicated truth of their marriage. We're a team. After we
hang up, I stare out at the Austin skyline and
(28:29):
a profound lonliness settles over me. The most connected I
felt to anyone all year was just now on the
phone with a woman a thousand miles away, talking about
a marriage that isn't even mine.
Speaker 1 (28:43):
Three years after the wedding. The text fed with Liam
is the first thing I check in the morning, in
the last thing I see at night. It's a sprawling,
secret history of our lives. It's filled with our friends, crises, yes,
but now it's mostly filled with us. Pictures of terrible
attempts at baking, his complaints about his new running shoes,
(29:03):
links to articles and songs and stupid memes. He's the
person I tell everything too. I've just gotten home from
another spectacularly bad date. This one was a finance guy
who used the word synergy and a sentence about our
dinner order. I text Liam, just got home. I think
I need to be put in a medically induced coma
(29:24):
until tomorrow morning.
Speaker 3 (29:26):
That bad. Let me guess he told you about his portfolio.
Speaker 1 (29:31):
Worse, he said, our shared love of Barata showed strong
conversational synergy.
Speaker 3 (29:37):
Oh wow, and I thought I was bad at dating.
I'm so sorry. No one deserves that. Did you at
least get good Barata?
Speaker 1 (29:47):
It was mediocre at best.
Speaker 3 (29:49):
Oh, an absolute tragedy. He sounds like a moron. You're
too smart and funny for guys who talk like corporate
email templates.
Speaker 1 (29:57):
I like back on my couch staring at his message,
a warm feeling spreading through my chest. The hollow, irritated
feeling from the date is gone, replaced by the effortless
comfort of talking to him. He always knows exactly what
to say. He's funnier, sharper, and more supportive via text
message than any man of actually dated in person. The
(30:20):
thought hits me with a sudden, uncomfortable clarity, like a
light flickering on in a dark room. The most significant
and honest relationship in my life is with a man
I haven't seen in three years.
Speaker 3 (30:34):
My phone buzz is it's an email, an evite from
Mark and Jess. The subject line is bright and cheerful.
Come celebrate our fifth anniversary with us in Cabo. I
grown no, I mean I literally grown out loud. Another
destination event, another desperate, expensive attempt approve to the world
(30:54):
and to themselves that everything is fine. I know it's
a last ditch effort. Chloe and I had just talked
about it last week. I scroll through the details, the
planned excursions, the cocktail hours. It sounds exhausting, it sounds
like a nightmare. There's too much going on. They're trying
too hard at the wrong things. But then my eyes
(31:16):
land on the guest list for the Core party Best
Man Liam made of honor Chloe. My first thought isn't
about Mark and Jess. It isn't about the coming drama
or the forced smiles. It's a single, selfish, electrifying thought
that courses through me with a force that surprises me.
Chloe will be there. I'm going to see her again.
Speaker 1 (31:41):
I get the invite and it immediately made my day,
my month, my year.
Speaker 3 (31:50):
The air in Cabo is warm and thick, with a
scent of salt, but it does nothing to relax the
not in my stomach. This isn't a vacation. It's a
deployment to a war zone. I feel like I'm walking
into a trap. Mark and Jess are a mess of
forced smiles and brittle cheerfulness. The whole thing feels fragile,
like a beautiful sand castle about to be washed away
(32:10):
by the tide. Then I see her, Chloea, standing by
the pool bar, talking to the concierge. She's wearing a
simple green sun dress, and the five years since I
last saw her have only made her more beautiful. The
disembodied voice from my phone, the witty avatar in my
text thread, is suddenly breathtakingly real. She turns sees me,
(32:35):
and a smile of such genuine, unadulterated relief breaks across
her face that it knocks the air out of my lungs.
Speaker 1 (32:42):
Thank God, you're here. I need a co conspirator. Jess
has already alphabetized the spice rack and They're sweet, just
to distract herself from Mark.
Speaker 3 (32:51):
Oh no, we are so screwed. I laugh and the
awkwardness I've been fearing for weeks vanishes. We're just us again,
but it's different. Standing this close, I'm aware of the
faint freckles on her nose, the way the sunlight catches
the gold flex in her brown eyes. The easy intimacy
of our text now has a physical charge that is
(33:14):
impossible to ignore.
Speaker 1 (33:18):
The first night, at the big anniversary dinner, the cracks
start to show. It's a small thing. Mark orders a
bottle of wine that just doesn't like, and her polite Oh,
I thought we'd get the soving Don Blanc is laced
with enough ice to freeze the entire table. The argument
that follows is a masterclass in passive aggression, a quiet,
(33:38):
vicious battle fought with tight smiles and cliped sentences. It's
just fucking wine, I want to scream, But of course
it's so much more than that. Liam and I are
caught in the crossfire, a captive audience to their misery.
We exchange a single, exhausted look across the table. It's
the same look from the wedding fire five years ago,
(34:01):
but now it's not tinged with surprise. It's heavy, with
a grim resignation of a prophecy fulfilled. Later, Mark is
several whiskeys deep at the bar, complaining about how nothing
he does is ever right. I watch his limb expertly
navigates his friend's self pity and bitterness, not validating it,
but not antagonizing him either. He just listens a calm,
(34:25):
solid presence before staring the conversation to a lighter topic.
He handles him with such a quiet, patient strength. I
find myself staring, thinking he's so sexy, and how he
stays calm.
Speaker 3 (34:42):
Yep, you guessed it. The big explosion happens, and predictably,
it happens on a private catamaran trip, meant to be
the romantic highlight of the vacation. Out on the open
water with nowhere to run, just finally confronts Mark about
a friendly lunch he had with a female coworker. It's
an ugly screaming match in the middle of paradise. Jess
(35:03):
is crying, her accusation sharp and painful. Mark is defensive
and angry, and his voice rises with every denial. Chloe
immediately goes to Jess's side, her arm around her, speaking
in a low, soothing voice, trying to absorb her friend's pain.
She's so fiercely loyal, so protective in the face of
(35:24):
this tidal wave of ugly emotion. She is an anchor.
I'm in awe of her. Holy shit, she's amazing. Jess
eventually runs below deck, sobbing. Mark storms to the stern
of the boat, gripping the railing, his back to all
of us, and Chloe and I are left standing in
the wreckage. The beautiful sunny day rendered bleak and hollow.
Speaker 1 (35:49):
That night, after hours of counseling my sobbing, heartbroken friend,
I escaped to a deserted terrace overlooking the dark ocean.
I'm emotionally hollowed out, exhaust into my very bones. I
hear footsteps and turn to see Liam walking toward me,
a pottle of tequila and two shod glasses in his hand.
(36:09):
He doesn't say anything, he just pours and we drink.
The liquid fire is a wocme shock to my system.
We stand in silence for a long time, listening to
the waves crash against the shore. I don't think they're
going to make it. The words are easier to say
than I expected.
Speaker 3 (36:29):
I know.
Speaker 1 (36:31):
He turns to me, his face etched with a sadness
that mirrors my own.
Speaker 3 (36:35):
Thank you for being here, Chloe. I couldn't do this
without you.
Speaker 1 (36:40):
Me neither. And in that moment, and in that moment,
all the years of texts and phone calls, all the
shared secrets and unspoken truths, converge. We're not just friends.
We're partners in this, the only two people in the
world who understand the weight of this failure. He looks
at me, and his gaze is no longer just friendly
(37:02):
or appreciative. It's filled with five years of pent up emotion,
with an intensity that makes my breath catch. He reaches
out his hand, coming up to my face. His thumb
gently brushes a tear I didn't even know had fallen
from my cheek. The simple tender gesture is my undoing.
He leans in slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. I
(37:26):
lean in to meet him, my own resolve crumbling. This
is it, This is the moment I've been secretly, subconsciously
waiting for. Our lips are a millimeter apart, the air
thick and electric with the promise of a kiss I've
been dreaming about for half a decade. And then he stops.
(37:47):
He pulls back just a bit his eyes are filled
with a deep, agonizing regret, and then he drops his
hand and the connection is broken. The truth of it
is left hanging in the air between us, undeniable and irrevocable.
The smooth ride is over. We haven't kissed, but everything
(38:09):
has changed. We both know it.
Speaker 3 (38:14):
Maybe I'm an idiot. Of course I'm an idiot. But
it was all wrong. Our first kiss shouldn't have a
foundation of pity or concern or emotions based on a
couple's crumbling marriage. But Chloe's face is full of confusion,
and I wonder if I just ruined everything. Maybe we'll
never have a first kiss. And this was my last chance.
(38:35):
But then, and maybe I imagined it, or dreamt it,
or hoped for it. She nods ever so gently, as
if she's telling me I get it. I want it
too someday.
Speaker 1 (38:49):
The flight home from Cabo is the longest five hours
of my life. I'm trapped in a metal tube, suspended
between a moment that almost happened in a future that
is now completely terrifying uncertain. My mind is a looping
reel of the night on the terrace, the sound of
the waves, the sadness in his eyes, the warmth of
his thumb on my cheek. He leaned in. I leaned in,
(39:11):
and then nothing. Why did he stop? The question tortures
me for a split second. I had been so certain,
the years of quiet, text based intimacy, the easy rapport,
the shared secret of our friend's failing marriage, it had
all been leading to that one inevitable point, and he stopped.
(39:33):
I know Liam well enough to know that there's a reason,
an important one, and I think, in the moment my
trust of him is so complete that I accepted it.
But back in my quiet apartment, the tat begins to fester.
Maybe I imagined it all, maybe the weak the stress,
that tequila. Maybe I projected my own feelings onto him.
(39:55):
He was just being a good friend, comforting me, and
I tried to turn it into something more. He probably
thinks I'm pathetic. The easy, constant flow of our text
has dried up. A painful silence stretches for days. I'm
terrified to be the first to break it to seem
too eager. I'm devastating to think that, in one moment
of near vulnerability, I've broken the most important friendship I have.
(40:19):
A week later, I'm lying in bed tangled in my sheets,
my body aching with a frustration that's more than just physical.
I close my eyes and I'm back on that terrace.
I can feel the warm he would err on my skin.
I see him lean in, his eyes, dark and full
of that same agonizing want that I feel, but this
(40:42):
time in the privacy of my own mind. He doesn't stop.
His lips meet mine, and a fantasy is so vivid.
I gasp. It's not a gentle kiss. It's a kiss
of pure desperate desire, his mouth claiming mine, his hands
sliding from my face down to my neck, his fingers
tangling in my hair. I imagine him backing me up against
(41:05):
the cool, stuck a wall of the resort, his body
pressing into mind the hard ridge of his cocus, solid,
undeniable promise against my stomach, not to be denied, even
while separated by clothing. My hand slides down between my legs,
my fingers finding my clit already wet and swollen. I
stroked myself to the rhythm of our imaginary kiss. My
(41:28):
orgasm a short, sharp, almost angry release, a wave of
pleasure mixed with the bitter taste of a moment that
was stolen from me, or worse, a moment that was
never really mine at all.
Speaker 3 (41:42):
An idiot. The thought has been on a constant loop
in my head since I got back from Cobo. I
had her, she was right there looking at me with
an expression that was so open, so ready, and I stopped.
I choked in some misguided attempt to be noble, not
like this. I killed the moment, and now I've killed
(42:04):
a friendship too. Her silence is deafening. I checked my
phone a dozen times an hour, hoping for a text,
a meme, anything to show that we're okay, but nothing.
She must think I'm not interested. She must think that
for me it was just the tequila talking. She has
no idea that, in that moment, leaning in to kiss her,
(42:27):
it felt like the only sane, real thing that had
happened all week. I've made everything awkward. I've broken our
secret world. I'm alone in my home office at my
drafting table a few weeks later, trying to work, but
my mind is useless. My own dating life feels like
a joke, a series of hollow conversations with women who
(42:50):
feel like strangers. No one gets my humor like Chloe does.
No one listens like she does. High lean back in
my chair in the sense of the jasmine blooming outside
my window reminds me of the tropical air and Cabo.
I close my eyes. I think of her, the way
her lithe body effortlessly makes a sun dress the sexiest
(43:11):
clothing known to man. Now, just being close to her
makes me adjust my pants in a way that I
hope she's not noticing. We're so connected that our lives
are effortlessly erotic. My hand drops to my lap and
I release my hard cock. I think of Chloe, and
I wrap my fingers around it, stroking as I picture
what should have happened after the kiss we should have shared.
(43:35):
I imagine her in my hotel room, the tension finally breaking
her back against the door. As I kiss her deeply,
I see myself kneeling before her, parting her legs, my
tongue finding the sweet, wet heat of her. I can
almost taste her, hear the little gasps and moans she
would make as I licked her. My fantasy isn't about
(43:56):
me taking. It's about her letting go, about being the
one to finally make her come apart. But thought is
so powerful, so consuming, that I come with a few
quick strokes, a hard, frustrated orgasm that leaves me feeling
empty and full of regret.
Speaker 1 (44:16):
I'm going to be honest. I've always masturbated to Liam,
but now I do it like a lot. I can't
stop thinking of him, and for some reason, it's about
us together, naked and doing everything, fucking making love, holding
each other.
Speaker 3 (44:38):
Dudes are going to say online, but I haven't looked
at porn in ages. I had just close my eyes,
think of Chloe and get instantly hard. I'm actually starting
to wonder if it's a bad thing, like I've replaced
our real friendship with this fantasy sexual life that never existed.
But then my phone buzzes.
Speaker 1 (44:58):
It's her, Hey, just checking in. Heard from Jess. Things
are still tense.
Speaker 3 (45:05):
I stare at the text. It's so formal, so distant,
a status report. I feel a chill despite the Texas heat. Yeah,
Mark's been quiet. Thanks for letting me.
Speaker 1 (45:18):
Know, no problem.
Speaker 3 (45:21):
Years of constant, easy intimate conversation and we've been reduced
to no problem. I want to type what happened to us?
I want to type I'm sorry I stopped. I want
to type I think I've fallen in love with you Instead,
I type nothing.
Speaker 1 (45:41):
Three more months of this excruciating, polite distance pass. We
exchange logistical updates about our friends, like two co workers
on a project that has gone sour. Every stilted text
is a fresh twist of the knife. Then one Thursday afternoon,
my phone rings. It's Liam. My hand trembles as I answer.
Speaker 3 (46:04):
Hey, did you hear hear?
Speaker 1 (46:07):
What is just okay? There's a pause and I hear
him take a deep, weary breath. On the other end
of the line.
Speaker 3 (46:15):
Mark called me this morning. He and Jess are getting
a divorce.
Speaker 1 (46:21):
The words hang in the air between us, shattering the awkward,
fragile silence we've been living in for months. I sink
onto my couch, a wave of sadness from my friends
washing over me. But underneath it, another feeling surfaces. Something
I'm ashamed to even acknowledge, the realization that the official
(46:41):
reason for our connection, our whole shared project, is now over.
The crisis we always talked about has finally arrived, forcing
its way through the wall of doubt and silence we've built,
and now there's nothing left to hide behind. But more
than anything, I'm filled with profound sorrow. What the fuck
(47:02):
am I doing this? Can't be the uncanon.
Speaker 3 (47:08):
After the call, I sit in the dark of my
apartment for a long time. The divorce is a tragedy,
a sad inevitable end to something that started with so
much hope. I feel a deep egg for my friends.
But underneath that sadness is a current of something else,
something sharp and urgent clarity. All the reasons for keeping
(47:30):
my distance from Chloe, all the carefully constructed barriers, have
just been bulldozed. The fear of making things awkward, of
betraying our job, of ruining our friendship. It all seems
so small now, so pointless, in the face of this
undeniable truth. Life is too damn short not to be
with the person you love. And I love her. I've
(47:53):
loved her through years of text and late night phone calls.
I've loved her from one thousand miles away. I'm not
sure how the tense anniversary made me push away, but
the divorce does the opposite. I think I've said this before.
I'm an idiot, and in wallowing in my idiotnss, it
hits me. There's no context for love. Loving someone while
(48:18):
bad things are happening, doesn't make the love less real?
How could I think that? And then another thought hits me.
I needed Chloe to teach me that, and she did,
but I was too dumb to see it. I don't think,
I just act. I'd booked the first flight out in
the morning. I text her from the taxi on the
(48:38):
way to her apartment, my heart hammering against my ribs.
I'm in Chicago. I need to see you.
Speaker 1 (48:46):
His text isn't a question, It's a statement, and it
sends a shockwave of terror and relieve through my entire body.
I spend the next twenty minutes pacing my apartment, a
frantic mess of hope and fear. The doorbell rings. I
feel like my soul is going to leave my body.
I open the door and he's there. He looks tired
(49:08):
from the flight, but he's real. He's here. All the stilted,
awkward distance of the last few months evaporates in the
face of his physical presence.
Speaker 3 (49:18):
Liam Chloe, I'm so sorry for being weird after Cabo,
She smiles, her incredibly charming and unbelievably sexy smile.
Speaker 1 (49:32):
Now, Liam, doesn't this fit me? It could have been
an email category.
Speaker 3 (49:36):
Her casual humor is so natural, so perfect, so us.
I don't reply. I just stepped forward and wrapped my
arms around her, pulling her into a hook. She buries
her face in the crook of my neck. It feels
so comfortable, so right.
Speaker 1 (49:58):
Definitely not an email. The feeling of his solid, warm
body against mine is a lit fuse. I'm not just
holding my friend, I'm holding the man I want more
than anything in the world. I cling to him, the
hud becoming a desperate, silent plea.
Speaker 3 (50:14):
We hold ourselves together and it feels like we are one.
The feel of her, the reality of her in my arms,
shatters any illusion that this is a hug between just friends.
It can't be not anymore. I pull back just enough
to look at her. My hand's coming up to cup
her face. Her eyes are shining with a fire I've
(50:35):
seen in her before, but the fire now is different,
and it's focused entirely and thoroughly on me. All the doubt,
all the fear of the last few months, is gone,
replaced by a single, searing certainty. I close the space
that has separated us for five long years, and I
kiss her. It's not the almost kiss from Combo. This
(50:58):
is a kiss of absent conviction. It's a deep searching,
soul bearing kiss. That's his everything we've been afraid to say.
It's years of longing, a friendship, of shared secrets, all
poured in the one moment. Her lips are soft and yielding,
her response immediate and overwhelming. This isn't a spark, It's
(51:20):
an inferno. I break the kiss, breathless. Let's get out
of here. She looks at me, a beautiful rye smile
on her face, and just shakes her head.
Speaker 1 (51:32):
We're already here.
Speaker 3 (51:34):
She takes my hand and leads me toward the bedroom.
Speaker 1 (51:38):
The world narrows to just this, his hand in mine,
the soft light of my bedroom, the unspoken promise of
a Finally, he undresses me, each unsnapped button followed by
a light kiss. When he gets on his knees and
pulls my jeans down, his hands are on my ass
(51:58):
and his face is ancient from my pussy. I'm wetter
than I've ever been before. He slides my panties down
and kisses me on the lips, a gentle kiss in
the most erotic way possible. He stands up and looks
at me.
Speaker 3 (52:14):
You are the hottest, most gorgeous woman that has ever
walked the planet.
Speaker 1 (52:19):
I pull his arm and playfully shove him on the bed.
Let's get you more comfortable, and then I do the
same for him. My fingers trace the hard lines of
his chest and the muscles in his arms as I
undress him. When we are finally skinned to skin, tangled
together on my bed, it feels less like a beginning
(52:40):
and more like a place we always were. He has
all gentle hands and soft kisses, and I want to scream.
He lowers himself and continues the kiss he started earlier,
licking me, socking my pussy lips, and then my clip.
I could come at any moment. As I arch into him,
my body desperate from or I give. His armis like
(53:02):
tug loam. He looks down at me, his eyes dark
with a passion that mirrors my own.
Speaker 3 (53:09):
I know.
Speaker 1 (53:11):
He positions himself above me, and we kiss again, his
hard cock pressed against my pussy. I can't stop myself,
and as we kiss, I rub my pussy up and
down against his hard length. He pulls back and reaches down.
The moment he enters me, a soft and voluntary cry
escapes my lips. It's a sound of pure, unadulterated desire,
(53:34):
finally fulfilled. The feeling of him filling me, of our
bodies finally joined after years of being separated by circumstance
and fear, is the most profound sensation of my life.
Speaker 3 (53:47):
Finally being inside her is everything. It's the end of
a long, lonely journey. It's a feeling of rightness so
absolute it almost brings tears to my eyes. She's warm
and wet and tight around me, and she feels like
she was made for me. I thrust in and out
of her, just enjoying the feeling, just enjoying us. It's
(54:12):
not just sex, it's a conversation. Our bodies have been
waiting years to have. I thrust faster and deeper. Everyone
a declaration of something I knew but never said. Every
moan she makes is an answer. I leaned down and
whisper into her ear. I love you, Chloe, I love
you too. Her fingers dig into my back.
Speaker 1 (54:35):
I've always loved you.
Speaker 3 (54:38):
I grab her and roll us over, and she's now
on top of me. She gives me a sly smile
and slowly rocks her hips. It feels unbelievable.
Speaker 1 (54:49):
You are so going to regret that I.
Speaker 3 (54:52):
Smile back at her. All the comfort and joy we've
experienced on the phone and via text and even in
stressful environments is here too. Everything feels so natural. I
seriously doubt that our conversation continues with our bodies. She
rides me with a fierce, beautiful abandon and I'm completely
(55:13):
lost in her. And she leans down, her hair falling
around us like a curtain, and her mouth finds mine
as her hips continue. They're perfect, relentless rhythm. It's the
ultimate intimacy, a complete joining of mouth and body and soul.
My orgasm builds with an intensity I've never known, a
(55:33):
tidal wave of five years of waiting. I cry out
her name as I come, a raw, unrestrained sound of pure,
explosive joy.
Speaker 1 (55:44):
I feel him throb inside me, and the intensity of
his orgasm sends me over the edge. My own orgasm explodes,
and I throw my head back and press my hips down,
feeling my body pulse. A smiling liamb benit me.
Speaker 3 (56:01):
We go to sleep together, we wake up together. We
go to sleep together again, and we wake up together.
I spend the week with Chloe, but I eventually have
to return to Austin, and when I do, I'm filled
with a deep sadness. The week felt like a moment,
it felt like a lifetime.
Speaker 1 (56:22):
It's two wonderful years later. I am standing in a beautiful,
rustic garden at the late afternoon sun warm on my shoulders.
I'm in a simple white dress. Liam's standing opposite me,
his eyes shining, looking at me with that same look
of love and passion he had on his face in
my bedroom that first night. Our friend is officiating, and
(56:45):
he's just gone to the part about the rings. I
turn in. My mate of honor hands me Liam's ring.
Jess gives my hand a squeeze, her eyes bright and
genuinely happy for me. I turn to Liam and I
see him standing with his bed man. Mark catches my
eye and gives me a warm support of nod. They
had both been so gracious, so happy for us, their
(57:08):
own pain, having settled into a quiet, respectful friendship. Their
marriage had been the reason we met, It's failure, the
reason we finally came together, a strange, painful, beautiful journey.
Liam slides the ring on my finger, his hand warm
and steady. You did it, he whispers, the words, just
(57:29):
for me. A callback to another lifetime, on another beach.
We did it. I whisper back, a perfect joyful smile
breaking across my face, and this time there is no
doubt in my mind at all.
Speaker 2 (57:48):
Thanks so much for listening to my podcast. I'm Roxy
Callahan and my Erotic Whispers are brought to you by
tenth Muse Studios ast MSTSTSTSTSTSTSTO must mister must Haustoms dest
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