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The warm water cascades down on me, providing a short relief to my stiff muscles. Raising up my face to the continuous stream I let my tears run freely, hoping the shower will wash away my sadness. If only I could go next door this morning and talk to Renee. She would help me understand what last night meant. She would know where to go from here. She could help me heal my soul. But we buried her yesterday, she’s gone, she will never share her wisdom anymore. It’s time to stop crying though.
Slowly I dry myself and tiptoe into the bedroom, cautious not wake Tina. My clothes carelessly thrown in the chair remind me of my single days, when after a one nightstand I had to head home in the same clothes from the night before. But this wasn’t a one night stand. I spent the night with my wife, who was there in my hour of need.
‘Are you leaving?’ There’s a hint of panic in her hoarse voice when she sits up in the bed and combs her hands through her messy hair.
‘I just wanted to pick up coffee, we’re… uhm you’re out of coffee.’
‘Shit. Not today.’ Rubbing her red eyes she drops back into the pillow. Slowly I walk over to the bed and sit down on the edge next to her, striking her hair that sprawled out all over the pillow. She must be absolutely knackered. This is the first day she doesn’t have to worry about anyone else, but herself. In the last months she put herself aside completely, while taking care of other people’s needs and neglecting her own. After Renee died I would have collapsed if it wasn’t for her. It were the little things, a hand on my shoulder, a soothing word in my ear, a kiss on my cheek, holding me when needed, drying my tears. ‘How do you feel?’ She asks turning to lay on her side, her hand probed under her head and her other hand softly caressing my cheek with a concerned look on her face.
‘I will be fine. Don’t worry about me.’
‘Do you want to talk about her?’
‘No not today. Thank you.’ In reply she smiles weakly and pulls me against her in a tight hug that comforts me, but at the same time I feel her naked chest pressed against mine, with only my bra in between. The images of last night still so vivid in my mind. Oh how I would wish to do everything that we did last night all over again today. Last night… Grief was added to all our unresolved issues. The frustration. The anger. The sorrow. The passion. The insecurities. The hurt. The longing. It was all boiling just under the surface for weeks. It was intense. Out of control. And it boiled over into this steamy mess. God there was no stopping anymore. We were on fire. Completely out of control. I couldn’t have stopped it even if I had wanted to. She was ablaze and so was I. The veil of darkness covered us. Oh my fucking god… we did things we knew. We did things we didn’t know. We did them once. And when we were done, we made the other do them all over again. And then some more. I lost count. Every possible surface was covered. It had nothing to do with making love. There weren’t gentle, tender caresses. No sweet loving kisses. No thoughtful questions or attentions. No intimate gaze. No cuddling. No moment to catch a breath. It was raw. Passionate. Rough. Carnal. Obscene. Raunchy. Lusty. Erotic. And… delicious. I don’t think I ever wanted her this badly. I couldn’t get enough. She was unsatisfiable. Everything in between us got magnified. Every untamable emotion was spoken with every act. With every assault and every attack. I marked her in every possible way, and she returned the favor. Nothing was left undone. And she felt exactly as I remembered. My wife. Mine. The only one that ever really mattered.