Home Again

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 Home Again

Hubby has been gone since Friday, and the house has felt a little off without him in it. He and our son set out on a long drive back to college, starting his second semester of junior year. What could have been just a practical trip turned into days of windshield conversations, shared meals on the road, and that special kind of bonding that seems to happen when it’s just the two of them and miles stretching out ahead.

They didn’t just drop him off and rush back either. They hauled things out of his storage unit, carried boxes up flights of stairs, and carefully set up his dorm room so it felt like a home again. I love knowing that our son had that time with his dad, that steady presence as he stepped back into this season of independence.

Hubby flew in today, and one of his friends picked him up and dropped him at the house. Sometime before I even left work, my phone buzzed. His message was simple, confident, and unmistakably him: he told me he desired me when I came home. Just reading it made my heart beat faster. He’d already arranged for the girls to be out until later that evening, which told me exactly where his mind was.

When I walked in the door after work, he didn’t waste time with small talk. He pulled me into his arms, grounding me after a long, quiet weekend without him. And then, just because he could—and because we had missed each other—he gave me a “just because” spanking. It was hard, playful, and full of intention. The kind that reminds me exactly who I belong to and how deeply connected we are.

We retreated to the bedroom afterward and took our time finishing the evening the way only two married people who truly know each other can. It wasn’t rushed. It was reconnecting, both physically and emotionally, after days apart. 

It was part passionate and part animalistic. It started slow and increased in intensity as the passion took to a fever. To the point he was pretty aggressive toward the end, with a little hair pulling and a smack to my bottom. 

By the time the kids came back at 8 p.m., we were calm, smiling, and completely settled again. We played “Taco, Cat, Goat, Cheese, Pizza”, the night ending on a light, happy note and lots of laughs.

As I crawled into bed later, I felt full in every sense of the word—grateful for a husband who invests in his children, leads our home with intention, and still makes time to pursue me. Some weekends are about letting go. Some are about holding steady. This one reminded me how beautiful it is when both happen at once.


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