A Love That Was Big Enough
Chapter 2
Romance Sex Story: Chapter 2 - Alex has been struggling to move on from his wife's passing five years ago. His friends insist that he move on and force him to install a dating app. It guarantees a match by Valentine's Day. He reluctantly agrees. The problem is that he finds someone. Actually... two someones. And life gets complicated.
Caution: This Romance Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Fiction Workplace
2 January
Alex woke at 5:30 to his alarm, rolled out of bed, and grabbed his phone before his feet even hit the floor.
Two new messages waited.
RedHeart (11:47 PM): Third time through Foundation? Damn that’s dedication. I’m a one-and-done reader. Right now I’m tearing through a thriller series that’s probably melting my brain but I can’t stop. Do you ever just read for pure fun? Or is it always deep stuff? 😊
Ember (01:23 AM): Kierkegaard got it right. Choice is agony. That’s why it’s beautiful. We choose anyway. Camus tried to dodge the weight with absurdism but that’s just surrender in fancy clothes. I can tell from your profile you feel that weight. What’s the hardest choice you’ve made since losing her?
Alex sat on the edge of the bed in the dark, staring at the screen.
RedHeart had replied quickly. Ember had taken longer - but she was thoughtful. Like she’d sat with the question.
He should go running. Stick to routine. Process this like a normal person.
Instead he started typing.
To RedHeart: Pratchett when I need fun. Guards series especially. Vimes is my guy. And yeah cooking blogs count as reading right? What’s the thriller series? I need something for when my brain needs a break from Asimov’s existential crises.
To Ember: Hardest choice? Getting out of bed every morning and deciding to keep going. Sounds dramatic but some days it’s exactly that hard. What about you? What’s the choice that’s got you thinking Kierkegaard at midnight?
He hit send on both, pulled on running clothes, and laced his shoes.
By the time he reached the front door both had replied.
RedHeart (5:38 AM): PRATCHETT YES! Guards is the correct answer. Death books are great but Vimes is everything. Cooking blogs totally count. I follow this guy who makes everything look easy then I try it and set off my smoke alarm 😂 The series is Jack Reacher. Not high literature but sometimes you just need a giant drifter punching problems.
Ember (5:42 AM): That’s not dramatic. That’s honest. Most people won’t admit choosing to live is a daily decision after loss. I’m facing whether to risk being vulnerable with someone I care about. Whether opening up is worth the possible pain. Kierkegaard says the leap of faith is what matters. Knowing that and actually jumping are two different things. You’re braver than you think. You’re already choosing every day.
Alex stood in the hallway, thumbs hovering, running forgotten.
He typed fast.
To RedHeart: Reacher sounds perfect. Sometimes your brain just needs problems solved with fists. Worst cooking fail? Tried homemade pasta once. Kitchen looked like a crime scene. Never again.
To Ember: You’re right. Knowing and doing are worlds apart. I know Elena would want me happy. I know staying stuck isn’t honoring her. But the fear of losing again is still there. How do you push past it?
He pocketed the phone and headed out.
The run was short. His mind was elsewhere.
By the time he got back both had answered again.
RedHeart: Pasta disaster twins! Mine was homemade pizza dough. It exploded in the oven. Fire department showed up. True story 😂
Ember: You push by deciding the risk of staying closed is worse than the risk of opening. One keeps you safe but frozen. The other might hurt but it lets you live. Small steps. One honest conversation at a time.
Alex showered, dressed for work, and kept rereading their words.
Someone understood.
Two someones. He was hooked.
Alex arrived at the office twenty minutes late. His phone was still burning in his pocket.
He made it through the morning meeting on autopilot. Spreadsheets blurred. His mind kept drifting to two women whose faces he hadn’t seen but whose words were cracking open places that had been locked for years.
At lunch he retreated to his car with a sandwich he barely tasted.
RedHeart: Running now? Me too! Treadmill because it’s freezing but it counts. What’s your pace? Distance? Races or just to clear your head?
Ember: I ran a lot after my loss too. Exhaustion numbed the mental noise. Eventually I realized I was running away instead of toward something. When did you start?
He answered both between bites.
The conversations flowed easily. It felt natural chatting with them. Hours felt like minutes.
RedHeart told him about her one real sexual experience. How disappointed she’d been when there was no emotional connection. “I need to feel something first. Is that weird? Everyone acts like wanting heart before body makes me a prude but it’s not that. I just can’t separate them.”
To RedHeart: Not weird. It’s knowing what you need. Don’t apologize for it. You deserve someone who wants all of you. Heart first. Everything else follows.
Ember shared about her college boyfriend’s car accident. The three years of wearing a smile while screaming inside. “Eventually I learned moving forward isn’t betraying them. It’s honoring that they loved us and wanted us happy. But knowing and feeling it are still different some days. Do you feel guilty when you laugh now? When you’re happy?”
To Ember: Every time. Like happiness is cheating on her memory. Logically I know that’s wrong. Emotionally I’m still working on it. How did you get past it?
Ember: Time. Therapy. And realizing you can honor the past AND live in the present. You don’t have to choose. Hold both.
Alex stared at that message until the screen timed out.
Someone understood. Really understood.
He looked up at the office building through the windshield.
Kara and Jessica were in there somewhere. Probably eating lunch together like always.
He wondered if they were messaging their own mystery matches right now. He smiled at the thought.
Then he went back to typing.
That evening, Kara sat cross-legged on her couch, wine glass abandoned on the coffee table, phone clutched in both hands.
She’d been messaging him nonstop for two days and couldn’t stop smiling.
Match: So if you could go anywhere right now, no budget, no schedule, just GO ... Where?
To Match: New Zealand easy. Bungee off Queenstown bridge. Tongariro Crossing. Glowworm caves. All of it. U?
Match: Iceland. Northern Lights. Blue Lagoon. Glaciers. Elena always wanted to go. We kept saying next year. Then ... there were no more next years.
Kara’s chest squeezed.
To Match: Then go. For her. Live the life she wanted for you. That’s how you honor her.
Match: You make me want to book a flight tonight.
To Match: DO IT!!! Life’s too short for someday.
His reply came instantly. She grinned, thumbs flying.
The door buzzed.
Kara jumped, nearly dropping her phone. She forgot all about girl’s night with Jessica!
Shit. How long have I been sitting here?
The clock said two hours. She locked the screen and went to let Jessica in.
Later that night, Jessica arrived with Thai takeout and wine, but her phone buzzed before she could set the bags down.
Match: Question: Kierkegaard or Camus? You asked me ... now defend your pick.
She smiled, set the wine aside, typed one-handed.
To Match: Kierkegaard. Always. Camus says nothing matters so why bother. Kierkegaard says BECAUSE nothing matters the meanings we create matter more. Choices are terrifying because they’re ours alone. That’s not absurd. That’s beautiful.
Match: Okay you just wrecked my entire philosophy. Impressed and alarmed. You sound like a friend of mine. She’s smart ... like you
To Match: Sounds like she knows what she’s talking about 😊
“Earth to Jess?”
Kara stood in the kitchen doorway, arms crossed, eyebrows up.
Jessica looked up, cheeks warm. “Sorry. Just answering a message.”
“Phone’s off on girl’s night bitch. You’ve been glued to that thing for five minutes.”
“Have I?” Jessica pocketed the phone fast. “We were in the middle of something.”
“Ok. ok. Be that way.”
They both laughed.
Neither mentioned their phones were on silent, not off. Neither mentioned the phantom buzz they felt all evening.
Of course, they never mentioned checking messages in the bathroom.
5 January
Alex was drowning in spreadsheets when Kara stopped by his desk mid-morning.
“I’m going for a coffee run. Want anything?” She looked bright, almost glowing.
“I’m good, thanks.”
“You sure? You look like you need caffeine.”
Alex rubbed his eyes. “Had a late night.”
“Doing what?” Kara’s tone was casual but her eyes were curious.
“Just couldn’t sleep.” It wasn’t a lie. He’d been up until 2 a.m. messaging both women.
“Hmm.” Kara studied him, that mysterious smile flickering. “If you need a nap, I won’t tell.” She breezed away.
Alex smiled. She always made him feel happier when she talked to him. Like RedHeart.
Later that afternoon Jessica appeared with a file.
“Henderson report.” She set it down, lingered. “You okay? You seem distracted.”
“Fine. Just tired.”
“The app keeping you up?” Her voice was gentle, knowing.
Alex hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah. The conversations are ... good. Really good.”
Jessica’s smile was soft, almost wistful. “I’m glad. You deserve that.”
She was always so thoughtful. Like Ember.
After she left Alex pulled out his phone. He smiled when he saw who it was from.
Ember: Working hard or hardly working? 😊
Sent fifteen minutes ago. Right before the time when Jessica dropped off the file.
He shook his head in disbelief. Coincidence.
7 January
Kara stabbed at her salad tentatively. “So I’ve been talking to someone,” she said, not looking up.
Jessica nearly choked on her soup. She set her spoon down carefully. “On the app?”
“Where else?” Kara finally glanced up, her expression a weird mix of giddy and guilty. “He’s fun. Like, actually fun. He wants to know the most random stuff. My favorite rollercoaster, the weirdest food I’ve ever eaten.”
“That sounds ... lively.” Jessica dabbed her lips with a napkin.
“It is! It’s just easy. No heavy stuff. He mentioned he likes to stay in the present. Focus on what’s next.” Kara’s voice softened, almost to herself. “It’s a nice change.”
A cold knot formed in Jessica’s stomach. Focus on what’s next. She knew that phrase. She’d argued with it last night, typing quickly in the dark: But the past informs the present. You can’t just ignore what shaped you.
“That’s great, Kara,” she said, her voice thin.
“Yeah.” Kara’s phone buzzed on the table. She flipped it over, and a grin broke across her face. She tapped back a quick reply.
“Your turn,” Kara said, locking her screen. “You’ve been quiet. Which means you’re thinking. Which means you’ve probably matched with some brooding intellectual who writes sonnets.”
Jessica traced the rim of her bowl. “Just a few conversations. It’s ... not light.”
“Oh god, is it heavy? Is it trauma-dumping? Red flag, Jess.”
“No. Not like that.” She chose her words like stepping on stones across a river. “It’s thoughtful. We talk about ... loss. How you carry it. He understands the weight of it. We don’t have to pretend it’s not there.”
Kara’s playful smirk faded. “Oh. Well. That’s ... good too, I guess. If you’re into that.”
“I am.”
Silence settled, thick and strange. Kara poked at a crouton. “My guy wants to go hiking this weekend. If the weather’s decent.”
“Hiking?” The word shot out of Jessica before she could stop it. Alex loved hiking. He’d done the whole Laurel Highlands trail. She smiled inwardly. Everything reminded her of him nowadays. It’s like she couldn’t stop thinking about him.
“Yeah. It’s a good first meet, right? Public, active, no awkward drink-sipping.”
“Right.” Jessica’s own phone buzzed in her purse. A specific, double-vibration pattern. She didn’t reach for it.
Kara’s eyes tracked the direction of the sound. “So? Is your Mr. Thoughtful planning a meeting at a library? Or a cemetery?”
The joke landed like a lead weight. Jessica forced a tight smile. “We haven’t discussed meeting yet. The app needs the 85% compatibility thing. It’s mostly text for now. I hope we can meet soon.”
“Well, you should. Otherwise it’s just a ... grief pen pal.” Kara stood abruptly, gathering her trash. “Gotta run babe. I need to finish this sales report. Boring stuff.”
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