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It's been over a year since Chaeyoung and I reconciled. And it'd been the best year of our marriage yet.

The week after she came home, we started therapy with a well known couples counselor in our area. The first few sessions had been emotionally taxing. I'd cried. Chaeyoung had cried. We'd cried together. The first few sessions we'd worked on rebuilding our trust. Dr. Kim, our therapist, had started with deep diving into why I believed Chaeyoung would cheat on me in the first place. It came from a place of deep insecurity.

Part of me had never believed I was good enough for Chaeyoung. And it didn't help that on our wedding day my mom said I should have married someone in my league because apparently women who were married to less attractive, were happier. Shocked and appalled by my mother's words, Dr. Kim had given me some exercises to work on my self esteem. And then she'd done something that I thought would be the last thing to help.

She had Chaeyoung look at me, and name every single one of my flaws, from my appearance to my personality. Chaeyoung named every single one of my worst insecurities. My stretch marks from pregnancy. The saggy boobs. My hips were wider than they used to be. The cellulite on my legs. She'd talked about my control issues, especially when it came to parenting our children. She felt that nothing she ever did was good enough in regards to our kids or cleaning. Then Dr. kim asked why she'd said what she did about my body.

"Those are the things she would say when she'd accuse me of cheating. Saying that her perceived imperfections were all I saw. But she couldn't be more wrong. I named them because I do see them. I have eyes. I'm aware that her body has changed. Of course it has. We've been together for a decade and she's birthed two of my children. I see it. But unlike her, I don't see them as flaws. They're just a part of her body. But I married her heart and soul. Not her body. Her hips are wider than they were ten years ago and her stomach has stretch marks because she carried two of my children. And now a third. Her breasts aren't as perky because of her age and having fed two of my children. I see the changes, but they don't turn me off like she's accused in the past. They make me love her more. She gave me the gift of two children. How could I love her any less because of how it changed and shaped her?" Chaeyoung held my gaze the entire time she spoke. I'd started crying after the third sentence.

"And the other things you said?" The therapist had asked.

"Her control issues? She's a human. She's got flaws. Just like I do. We need to talk about them. I want to be a parent too. I also think that if our marriage is more stable she'll let me help more. If she trusts me with her heart and body, she'll trust me to be a co-parent." That hadn't even been the most cathartic session. Dr Kim had us take a test to determine our love languages. Mine was acts of service and Chaeyoung's was touch. So for the next week, between our sessions, we had to each write down everything we did that we thought made the other feel loved based on their love language. We also had to write down everything the other did to make us feel loved based on our love language. So I had to write down every time I used touch to make Chaeyoung feel loved. And I had to write down each act of service she did that made me feel loved.

The results had shocked me.

Chaeyoung and I had been having amazing sex since we got back together, making up for lost time I guess. My list consisted of the five times we'd had sex that week and the blow job I'd given her. None of those things had been on her list. What had been on her list, was when I'd leaned into her while we were sitting on the couch. When I'd rubbed her back while she'd been cooking dinner and when I'd been the one to initiatie hand holding while we'd been walking through the parking lot of the grocery store. And listed seven times was when I'd climbed into bed with her and snuggled into her side and let her hold me while we fell asleep.

My list had been just as shocking. All the things on her list of acts of service that had made me feel loved were related to cleaning. The couple times she'd vacuumed and mopped. When she'd made dinner and done the dishes. But those hadn't been on my list. My list had each time she'd made me a cup of coffee and brought it to me while I was trying to get the kids ready for school. When she'd put my towel in the dryer for a few minutes while I'd showered and brought it to me extra warm. And the last one had been when she'd told me she'd put the kids to bed and told me to go get in the bath, sweetly reminding me to not let it get too warm because of the baby.

"I'm sure I don't need to highlight why communication in marriage is so important anymore, but I'm going to anyway," Dr. Kim had said, pushing her glasses up her nose.

"You each thought that you were doing what the other person wanted to feel loved. And you were. Sex is important, Mina," she'd said to me. "Most marriages would be healthier if couples had more sex. But Chaeyoung felt the most loved with simple touches, everyday things you do for her anyways. And Chaeyoung, you thought the big things mattered. The cooking and the cleaning. And a fair division of household tasks is also important to a healthy marriage, but Mina felt the most loved when you did little things, making her coffee, making sure her towel was warm or that she had a few minutes to herself."

"Knowing how the other feels the most loved will help you communicate better. So from now on, for the rest of your lives, I want you to pick one day a week; it can be Friday date night or a random Tuesday. I don't care. But every week on the designated day you will each share what the other did that week that made you feel the most loved." The session had been so cleansing that we'd made out like teenagers in the elevator on the way to the car. Then we'd made out like teenagers in the car. I hadn't been able to keep my hands to myself.

"Fuck," Chaeyoung had cursed when I'd squeezed her through her jeans. "I have to have you." She'd pulled the car into the back corner of a parking lot. The sun had set during our session so it was dark. She'd killed the lights and pulled me on top of her.

Her hands squeezed my ass through my maternity pants. "Chaeyoung," I'd whimpered her name.

"Take your pants off." I'd always thought being a teenager made car sex awkward. But I'd learned it was due to lack of space. Fumbling I'd gotten my pants down just enough to let her slide inside me. No foreplay. It hadn't been needed. "Chaeyoung!" I'd cried when she impaled me. My hands and squeezed her shoulders, digging in while I rode her.

"Faster," she'd whispered in my ear. Her hands had dug into my ass cheeks, squeezing the flesh as she pushed me up and down on her.

"Yes! Oh God." I'd cried loudly for her. "I'm going to come."

"Come for me, baby." My head had fallen back as I'd clamped around her, an unholy cry tearing through me as I'd soaked her with my release. Chaeyoung had groaned her own release with her head buried in my newly enlarged tits, thanks to the pregnancy.

"I love you. And dear God, I love when you're pregnant," she'd said. My bump was small, but clearly visible.

"Eh. You're alright I guess," I'd quipped back at her. She'd growled playfully at me before capturing my lips with her, kissing me deeply. That was the only way she kissed me recently. A quick peck was only reserved for when the kids were around, otherwise she was demanding and wanting. And I loved it.

"I love you, too," I'd said when she pulled away.

Getting my pants back on had been just as challenging as getting them off, but it had been worth it.

That session of car sex hadn't even been the most therapeutic and healing sex we'd had.

Several of our sessions were spent talking about the coworker I had believed Chaeyoung was cheating on me with- Samantha. We'd argued because I'd wanted her to contact Human Resources and say that she was sexually harassing Chaeyoung. Because she was. Chaeyoung told her repeatedly to leave her alone.

Samantha hadn't. Chaeyoung said she could handle it, that it wasn't necessary to involve her company.

Instead, on Dr. Kim advice, we'd compromised. Chaeyoung got one more shot to make Samantha stop. Together, during one of our sessions, we'd called her. Dr. Kim and I had remained quiet while Chaeyoung spoke to her.

"Chaeyoung," she'd said happily when she picked up the phone. It had taken all my effort not to snap.

"Samantha, I'm calling to give you one last warning. Do not contact me again. I do not want naked pictures; I do not want you flirting with me. Stop texting and calling me. If you don't I'll file a sexual harassment complaint with HR." I'd heard her huff on the other end. She clearly wasn't used to being told no.

"Fine," she'd said before cutting the call.

"Now, Chaeyoung. It is very important that you follow through on this. If she contacts you, you need to report her. And we've already established that by hiding her actions from Mina you were lying to her. She has forgiven you and we understand your good intentions and not wanting to hurt her. But you have both agreed to open and honest communication. If you don't, you'll be jeopardizing her trust, your relationship and your family."

"I know," she'd said while taking my hand.

"And I'll never be that stupid again." And then, when I was twenty-four weeks pregnant, we'd gone to her office Christmas party. And I did something I never thought I would.

"You look gorgeous," Chaeyoung had said when I came downstairs. I'd been in a red cocktail dress. It fell just above my knees and was strapless. And God bless my pregnancy boob because they had looked fantastic. I'd curled my hair in soft ringlets down my back. My bump was prominent now, no mistaking it for anything other than pregnancy. According to Chaeyoung, I was glowing. "I can't wait to show you off."

We'd taken a car service to the party on the other side of town. I hadn't been able to drink and offered to drive, but Chaeyoung had insisted I not do anything but enjoy myself. I'd met all of her coworkers before so the party wasn't awkward.

Except going to a party pregnant was the worst kind of torture. People thought they could touch my stomach, comment on my size and say whatever popped into their head about babies and birth and raising kids. It was infuriating. And the worst part? I had to do it sober.

The second worst part?

Samantha was there. I'd been expecting her. She worked there after all. A year earlier I would have been intimidated by her. She was at least six or seven years younger than I was. Taller. Thinner. Firmer. I couldn't help starring at her. When Chaeyoung realized it, she'd wrapped her arm around my waist and pulled me close, kissing my forehead.

Samantha had seen it and sneered in my direction.

Bitch.

She definitely needed another reminder not to mess with my woman.

And thanks to the pregnancy hormones, I was horny all the time. Which is how I'd ended up doing the most insane thing I'd ever done. I'd watched Samantha head for the restrooms. And I hadn't thought, I'd just acted. Chaeyoung had been in the middle of speaking to someone when I'd pushed my body against her and pulled her head down to my level. "I have to have you. Now." Her eyes had widened has she looked at me. Confusion and lust clouded her eyes. Taking her hand I'd excused us from the conversation and pulled her towards the bathroom. "Wait here."

Heading into the ladies restroom I'd made sure only Samantha was in there. When there was only one stall occupied I'd gone back to the door, opening it and checking to make sure nobody was looking before pulling

Chaeyoung inside.

"Minari," she'd groaned when I pushed my lips against her urgently. "What are you doing?"

"What's it look like I'm doing?" I'd asked, dragging her into the stall next to the one Samantha was in.

"Fuck. I love you so much."

"Hurry," I'd whined.

Chaeyoung had pushed me into the stall before closing the door. She'd turned us around and pushed me against the door. "What do you need?" She'd teased, trailing her nose up the column of my neck until her lips were at my ear.

"Touch me," I'd begged.

Roughly her hands had pushed. My dress over my hips. Sitting on the toilet with her pants still up, she leaned forward, pushing my panties to the side and pushed her tongue against me. My shoulders had pushed into the stall door, my hips pushing forward and out to give her more room.

"'Mmmm," she'd moaned into me. Looking down, I could barely see her on the other side of my impossibly large baby bump. "Is this what you wanted?" She'd asked. "You're so needy when you're pregnant. I love it. I love this bump," she'd said running her hands over it. "I love these fucking tits," she'd groaned, squeezing them through my dress.

"Chaeyoung. More. Please." Holding me open she'd licked through my slit, her tongue flicking against my clit while I'd moaned for her.

I may have been been exaggerating the sounds I usually made for her. I didn't want Samantha to have any doubts about what was going on in the stall next to hers. Chaeyoung had pushed two fingers inside me.

"Yessssss," I'd hissed.

"Squeeze that perfect pussy on my fingers," she'd groaned.

"Chaeyoung! Yes. Oh gosh!"

She moved her mouth back to my clit, sucking it between her lips and pulling until I came. "Mnhhhh!" I'd cried, not caring if it could be heard at the party.

Chaeyoung had released me. Before I knew it she was standing, dropping her pants and pulling me against her. When she'd sat back down she'd taken me with her, impaling me with her cock.

"Hmmm," she'd chuckled, thrusting slightly.

"This position seems familiar." I'd whimpered. "Isn't this how you ended up like this?" She'd asked, hands on my stomach as she lifted into me. "Pregnant. Again."

"Yes."

"Who knew you loved bathroom sex so much?" I hadn't needed to be looking at her to hear the smirk in her words.

Hands on my hips, she'd thrusted up into me. The sounds had filled the bathroom, her low groans and moans and my needy whimpers. The sounds of my wet pussy taking her length had been unmistakable. "I'm going to come."

"Me too, baby. I'm gonna fill your tight pussy."

"Please!" I'd cried loudly and incoherently as she'd filled me.

"Mina," she whispered when we were finished, her forehead pushing between my shoulder blades while she held me close.

"I love you."

"I love you too," she said.

Glancing down to the floor I had seen Samantha's shoes still there. She'd listened the entire time. Standing I'd grabbed toilet paper to clean myself up before straightening my underwear and dress. Walking out of the stall I'd held Chaeyoung's eyes in the mirror, smirking.

Samantha had balls, I'd give her that. Because while we were fixing ourselves in the mirror, she opened the stall door, stared at both of us and then disappeared.

"Did you know she was in here?" I couldn't answer, just smirked at her. "Fuck. That's so fucking sexy. Come here." She'd pulled me closed and kissed me deeply.

Eight months later and Samantha still hadn't been a problem again.

Bitch.

)

The birth of our third child had been the best birth experience yet. It had a home birth, in our tub. Chaeyoung had been right there next to me, holding my hand and whispering words of praise to me. Our mothers had been downstairs with the kids. We hadn't found out the sex of this one; we'd known with Aera and Seok. Our second son was born in the middle of the night, screaming mad and Chaeyoung had named him Leo.

And then we'd had the first fight we had since getting back together.

"What do you mean you don't want a vasectomy?" I'd snapped at her when she dropped that bomb on me. Granted, I'd been severely sleep deprived from having a new born who constantly wanted to be fed.

"Just hear me out," she'd pleaded. But I was in no mood. How could she possibly think that was a good idea. "Three is an uneven number. Leo is so much younger than Aera and Seok. Let's have a fourth."

"You're delusional," I'd shouted. "You cannot possibly be serious." Leo had stirred in my arms and I rocked him gently, praying he didn't wake up. He'd just gone down. "Two kids under two nearly killed our marriage."

"We're different now. Better. Smarter. Just don't rule it out. I don't need you to make any decisions right now."

"Well, we're not having sex until you have a vasectomy." I'd regretted the words as soon as I'd said them. Sex wasn't a weapon to be used in marriage, or any other relationship, it was an expression of love, regardless if the act was used for conception or not.

She'd sighed heavily for walking away.

A week later she'd circled back to the conversation. She'd laid out a box of condoms, effectively turning around my sex ban because she knew as I did, that I regretted instituting it."We will use condoms until we've had a calm, rational discussion about this. We don't have to make any decisions now. But I would like to have a fourth child." She hadn't said anything else, just kissed my head and walked away.

We'd been using condoms ever since.

I hated condoms.

I'd asked for a private session with Dr. Kim and we'd talked about a fourth pregnancy and child. If I was honest, I'd have ten more kids with Chaeyoung. I loved our children; I loved watching her be a Mother to them; I loved our family.

I was worried about what a fourth child would do to our marriage. Our relationship problems had in no way been our children's fault, but having young kids was exhausting and taxing. I loved my children, but I didn't want to risk my marriage for more.

Dr. Kim had effectively said the same thing that Chaeyoung had. We were different, we were communicating better, being more open. She'd said that if I truly didn't want a fourth child, than I shouldn't have one and that I needed to be open and honest in my communication with Chaeyoung about it.

Which is how I ended up here.

It was our weekly Friday date night. The kids were at my mom's house. Every Friday they'd rotate between going to Chaeyoung's parents and my own while we had our date night. I was still on maternity leave from work, but we still held on to the ritual. The first few date nights after Leo's birth had been at home, our two oldest kids going to grandma's. Now that Leo took a bottle well and I was used to pumping, he went too, giving Chaeyoung and I an entire night to urselves.

I was sitting on our couch, the box of condoms we'd been using on the coffee table in front of me.