Jane Jago’s Drabbles – Four Hundred and Forty-Four

In the quiet after what had felt like a maelstrom of need, she lay quiescent on his broad chest listening to the pulses of the earth as they echoed in the bigness of his bones.

Neither spoke, although his hand stroked the skin of her back and she kept her lips pressed to the skin of his throat.

In the silent recesses of her mind she knew she had just given away the only bargaining coin a woman ever has, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

When he finally broke the silence, his voice sounded uncertain. 

“Marry me Meg?”

©️jj 2020

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