The night had crossed into the next day as you stayed out late partying with your friends. It was well past midnight when you stumbled your way out of the venue and to somewhere a little quieter. You stood under a lamp post in front of the venue as you turned on your phone and dialled Ezra’s number. Drunkenly, you waited for him to pick up and when he did, he spoke in his sleepy voice.

“Yeah?”

You were silent for a moment, trying to form words without them coming out slurred. Your mind was a haze as you held onto the lamp post for stability.

“Honey, are you there?”

Silence again from your end and not a second later, you heard movement and the jangling of keys on his line. He groaned softly as he made his way to you, using the location sharing he’d set up on your phone. As you waited, you simply stared into the distance as a rush of excitement filled you. The anticipation of seeing your husband, Ezra, was a lot more enticing than the thought of his disappointment when he would see you drunk again.

After about forty-five minutes or so, a black car pulled up in front of you and Ezra stepped out. He walked around the car and right up to you. He snaked an arm around your waist as he held your body close to him. His warmth was the first thing you noticed as you put your head against his chest. You knew he’d likely lecture you about how unsafe your actions were and how you should have brought a jacket and that your little leather skirt and corset were unsuitable for a cold night.

He moved his arm up your back and onto your shoulders as he held you up.

“Why are you out here by yourself when you’re this drunk?”

He said rather disappointedly as he took off his jacket and threw it over your shoulders. His expression was stern as his brows furrowed with mild dissatisfaction.