Dream

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DawnJ
DawnJ
323 Followers

"Where's the dress you bought?" he asked. I went to get it, and he waited patiently as I put it on. He closed the zipper, then piled my hair on top of my head with a pretty comb he had also bought for me.

"Shoes?" he continued. I got them, and he made me sit down so he could put them on for me. Then he looked up at me, kneeling before me with tousled hair and powder on his nose, and said, finally,

"I'm sorry, baby. I didn't mean to hurt you, you know that!"

I gazed at the face of my beloved, and held it in my hands. He was warm, and damp, and I loved him so much, my heart melted. Whatever I had expected from Adam, it had not been this. I couldn't resist the overwhelming urge to touch his lips with my tongue, to tickle his earlobes, to kiss his cheeks and then his lips. I wanted to have him now, but he resisted.

"Does this mean I'm forgiven?" he asked teasingly.

"Forgiven? For what?" I asked in return, pushing his damp shirt off his shoulders. "Adam..." I continued urgently, "please..."

"Honey, it's breakfast time! We've got to feed the children." He was still playing with me, and I was growing impatient.

"Breakfast is made. All they have to do is warm it up. Todd can do that."

Adam rose from his knees and pushed me over onto the bed. He lay on top of me, and neither of us cared a whit for the expensive dress he was crumpling. He pushed his face into my bosom, and breathed in the scent of powder, perfume, and soap. He raised himself, pressing his warm hard length between my thighs, and crushed my mouth beneath his own, working me into a frenzy of longing and desire that I could not contain.

"Adam, please," I begged him. He smiled, and kissed me some more. I thought I would go quietly insane, for want of him, and still he kept me waiting.... The door opened, and we sprang up.

VI

"Leah, you can't stay all day in bed. You've got to get up for dinner, at least!"

Naomi's voice was an unwelcome intrusion into the drugging world of pleasure I had been about to enter with Adam. And he was not here. I was alone in the bed; she had only disturbed my dream, not our lovemaking.

"Why don't you knock before you come in?" I hissed at her. "Did I ask you to come in? Did I tell you you could?" I glared at her angrily, and watched the frustration and disbelief flit across her features.

"Now you listen to me. I didn't bring you down here so that you could be depressed here. You can do that just as well at home. You're supposed to be trying to come to grips with this, not hide away from the world and drown yourself in sorrow! You have four children to think of, and if you keep on like this, they will miss some important healing time. You can't just grieve for you. He belonged to them, too. If you keep shutting them out, none of you will ever heal!"

Naomi's face was red with the energy of her emotions, and I looked at her for the first time, it seemed. She really did care about my children and me, and I had been resisting all her efforts to help me. She was right, of course. We were not children anymore, and she was trying to help me. And my children did need me to be part of their grieving. I rolled off the bed.

"Sorry, Naomi. It's just that I miss him so much!" A tear slipped out from between my closed lids, and she hugged me.

"You're supposed to. You were married to him for almost half your life. And you had a good life together. You've got to accept that that will never leave you. But you're still young, and you're still here, and your children need you. I'm not asking you to pretend that everything is okay. Just let us in, so we can be with you to help you heal."

I nodded, and she waited for me as I dressed. We went downstairs together after I had washed my face and brushed my hair. Joshua Blackwood was there again, and I decided, on an impulse, that I would talk to him after dinner. Maybe I did need to let someone else share what I was feeling. Maybe he could show me what to do to cope, to live without my heart. He smiled at me as I approached, and then I saw the young woman who stood next to him. She was as tall as I, but round and pretty. Her brown eyes smiled at me as we were introduced, and she sat next to me at the dinner table. Her name was Isabel.

"How are you today?" Joshua asked as we sat down. His eyes held concern.

"Not very happy, I'm afraid. But I'll manage," I replied. "I need help, though." I looked at him meaningfully, and he smiled, seeming to understand my intention.

"Whenever you need to talk, my dear. And Belle will be only too happy to help you too. She lost a husband a few years ago herself," he surprised me by adding.

I looked at his fiancee, and she seemed so calm and sure of herself, that I wondered how she could manage it. She smiled slowly at me, and said, in answer to my unspoken question, "It was very hard for me too, because he died so soon after we were married. I felt like I had been cheated, had had my whole life stolen from me. It took me a long time to learn to live without him. Then I met Josh, and it became easier." She looked lovingly at Joshua who smiled tenderly at her. The love between them was so palpable, I could feel it enveloping all of us in the room.

We ate in silence for a while, at ease with each other, enjoying the good meal that Naomi had prepared. She was blushing at a compliment from Joshua about the potency of her punch, looking at her husband who returned her gaze with pride, when Isabel said,

"Simon made a wicked punch. I remember the first time he made me a complete meal. We had only been married a week, and he wanted to show me that he could fend for himself. We had lamb stew, potato balls, asparagus tips, salad, and the most deliciously refreshing punch I'd ever had. I was floored. I think he was a better cook than I am."

I stared open mouthed at her as she spoke, wondering how she could speak of her dead husband with such ease. It was clear she had loved him, and was proud of him, and she was not hiding those feelings. She saw my look, and smiled at me again. "It helps to talk about your memories. That makes the loved one real to you and to those who want to help you. And it makes him stay with you in a good way. It lifts your spirits."

Everyone looked at me expectantly, and I struggled to find something to tell about the man I loved. I blushed at the thoughts that came first to mind, and hoped no one noticed. But Isabel had sharp eyes, and she whispered to me,

"Those memories are the best kind, aren't they? Even if we can't share them!"

I laughed aloud for the first time in a month, surprising everyone at the table except Isabel, who was laughing with me.

"I'll share some of mine with you sometime," I promised her. "They're really hot."

"I've shared a few with Joshua. It took a while, but it was incredibly healing for me. He knows I love him, though, and I don't think he feels threatened, do you love?" she asked, looking at him with love in her eyes.

"I've learned not to feel threatened," was his honest reply. "I've learned that you love me, and that I should make the most of it."

He seemed to be telling her something the rest of us could not enter into, something only he and she could understand. And she appeared to understand perfectly, for I noticed that she seemed to relax, though I had not been aware that she was tense until that moment. I was beginning to think I might find in her a friend, and I determined that I would pursue that notion. It would certainly take my mind off my situation, and it might even give me the push I needed to get on with my life.

After dinner, Isabel and I went out onto the porch and sat together in the swing chair. I immediately began to tell her things I would not have thought I could tell anyone.

"I seem to remember our lovemaking more than anything else. I feel guilty that all I can seem to remember of him is how good he was in bed, how he made me feel, how much I lusted after him. And those thoughts only make me want him now so much, and when I remember that I can't have him ever again, I get very angry with him, and then I feel guilty for being angry with the dead. I'm so confused!

Isabel listened to me patiently, and watched me closely. She did not respond immediately, and I began to wonder if she had heard me. When she spoke, she shocked me even more than she had before.

"I will always remember, to my dying day, the last time we made love. I was angry with him for something, I don't remember what anymore, and had stormed out of the apartment. I went shopping, buying all kinds of things that I didn't need, partly to relieve my feelings, and partly to make him mad. When I got home, he wasn't there. You can imagine how that made me feel!" She chuckled softly as she remembered. "I put away the things I had bought, and decided that I was not going to make dinner. If he was hungry when he came home, he could fix himself something to eat! I took the gallon of ice cream from the freezer, and sat in front of the TV. Before I knew it, I had eaten a half of it!"

"Half a gallon! You must have been really mad!" I couldn't help exclaiming.

"Believe me, when I get mad, I stay mad! Not one of my better points, I know. Anyway, I felt bad, so I put the rest back in the freezer, and decided I would call it a night. I went up, had a shower, and went to bed in the guest bedroom. I heard when he came home, and ignored him. He went around the apartment looking for me, or so I thought, and I kept as quiet as I could. He didn't come into the guest room, though, and I thought that was strange. Then, I guess I must have dozed off. When I woke up it was quiet. I got up to go to the bathroom, and saw every door in the apartment open. That was also odd, since we kept all the doors closed.

"I still didn't suspect anything was wrong, till I passed by my bedroom and saw Simon, all tied up and gagged on the loveseat by the window. I was so frightened I almost wet myself. We'd been burglarized. Apparently they had waited for him to open the door and than had forced him inside. The footsteps I had heard 'searching for me' were actually their footsteps searching the apartment and taking everything they could carry with them.

"Suffice it to say, that after the cops had been and gone, I was more upset than I had ever been, and more embarrassed, and more frightened. I forgot about being angry with him. We stayed up all night, jumping at every sound, nervous as kittens. He couldn't go to work the next day, and neither could I. We both called in sick, and managed a little sleep. But we knew we still needed to apologize to each other for the bad feelings that we both thought were the reason we had been robbed. If we had stopped the arguing, neither of us would have left the apartment, and this wouldn't have happened."

She took a deep breath. It was clear the memory was bittersweet. I waited patiently.

"I didn't know how to say I was sorry, though I thought about it all that day. Simon was more quiet than usual, and the tension between us grew. By dinnertime, we were as skittish as we had been the night before. We could hardly eat, though he had cooked us a delicious soup. I washed up, then decided that I would just come right out and say I was sorry, rather than try to find a fancy way of doing it. He was standing by the stove, arms folded, watching me wash up, and I hadn't realized until I turned to face him that his mood had changed. I looked into his face, but before I could say a word, he said, 'Shh! I know. I'm sorry, too, honey. I love you very much!'

"He hugged me tight, and I relaxed, hugging him hard. I told him I loved him too, and how scared I was that they had hurt him, and that I wouldn't want anything to hurt him. I cried on his shoulders, and he kissed my tears away, soothing me like he would a baby. Only after I had calmed down did I recognize that his arms weren't just holding me. He was caressing my back, my arms, my bottom, and when I moved to look into his face again, he kissed me. It was meant to be a seductive kiss. He was deliberately arousing me, nibbling my ears, my neck, my throat, squeezing my nipples, pushing himself up against me. He told me he had been wanting to make love to me since the night before, when I had found him all tied up. He told me how he had stopped himself from grabbing me a hundred times that day, as I was combing my hair, as I was making breakfast, as I was washing up.

"I'll never forget what he said: 'I find you so incredibly sexy right now, I feel like I could eat you, Belle. I love you more than I thought I could love someone, and I want you now. I want to feel you, taste you, smell you. I want to make love to you. Don't make me wait any longer, please!' That was the best apology I'd ever had, and he wouldn't let me say anything except yes. So I did.

"He stripped me right there, in the kitchen. We started on a chair, but he couldn't seem to get enough of me, so we went into the living room and he pushed me onto the carpet and took me again. I had never had more than one orgasm with him at a time, but every time he took me, I climaxed all over again. I thought my heart would burst. It was so good! We must have made love for hours! We fell asleep on the carpet in the living room, and woke up barely in time to shower and change for work."

Her voice grew softer still, and I sensed a change in her.

"He was killed in a car crash that morning. A truck ran a red light and smashed into him. He died instantly." Her voice subsided, and stilled. I didn't realize that I was crying until she said, "Oh, Leah, I didn't mean to upset you! I'm sorry!" She sounded distressed as she offered me a tissue for my face. She didn't seem to notice that she was crying, too.

"Oh my God, what did you do?" I was appalled.

"What could I do? I didn't hear until I got to work. I took the train most days, only when I got there that morning the office was strangely quiet. Everyone looked at me strangely, no one said anything, and then as I was about to sit at my desk, my boss came out and asked me to step into her office." She paused, clearly reliving the moment.

"She didn't seem to know how to tell me, so she just blurted it out. Simon had been killed in an accident. I think I fainted. When I came to it seemed like everyone was hovering over me. They were so good to me, and so caring. I was numb for weeks. I went to identify the body at the morgue, I moved back in with my parents, I went to his funeral, and only when they were sprinkling soil onto his coffin in the grave did I realize, I think, for the first time, that it wasn't a dream, that I was awake, that he was never coming home to me. That feeling has never fully left me, except when I'm with Joshua."

"How long were you married to him?" I asked.

"A year and two months," she replied promptly. "And you?"

"Nineteen years," I said, hearing the words for the first time it seemed. "A long time."

We were both silent for a while, each lost in her own thoughts, and then she said, "Joshua has helped me to realize one thing. Although I can never have Simon back again, he will always be with me as long as I cherish the memories of him. And I know that he would have wanted me to get on with my life. I'm sure he knows about Joshua, and I'm sure he's pleased."

"How long did it take you to get over him?" I asked.

"I don't think I'd call it being over him, really. I've just moved away from him, toward someone else. Every now and again I get really horny," she giggled at my surprised gasp, "and the pain tries to come back. I fight it with thoughts of Josh, of his arms around me, of his mouth kissing me, of his words of love in my ear. Sometimes, I find Josh wherever he is, so he can chase my pain away personally." She giggled again at her words, and the picture they conjured, and I joined in her merriment. Then I sobered.

"I don't have anyone to chase mine away," I said sadly, "and right now I can't even bear to think about any other man touching me as Adam did. It seems like sacrilege."

"That will take a while, you're right there. But as Josh said, whenever you need to release pent-up pain, we're here for you. Naomi and George know where to find us." She made the offer again simply, and I accepted with a grateful nod.

I dreamed of Adam again that night. It was our nineteenth wedding anniversary, and all the guests, family and friends, had finally gone home. The kids were all asleep, the house was dark, and Adam was playing hide and seek with me. I thought that he was in our bedroom when I went up, but he wasn't. Every time I thought I found him, the room was empty. I knew he'd find me eventually, so I went into the bathroom to take a leisurely bath. I knew that would bring him out of his hiding place as surely as cheese would bring a mouse into the open.

I sat, eyes closed, luxuriating in the warm bubbly water, when I felt a warm hand on my breast. I opened my eyes to find him staring down at me with such raw lust on his face that my breath caught in my throat.

"Adam," I began, "I..."

He didn't let me finish. He swooped down on my mouth, drinking as though he were dying of thirst. I put my dripping arms around his neck and he slid into the tub on top of me.

"Lee," he whispered hoarsely, shuddering, "happy anniversary! I can never get enough of you, baby. What took you so long?" He didn't wait for a reply but swooped again, sucking my mouth, my ears, my neck, my throat, licking me behind the ears, on the nipples, making me groan with an agony of need. I could feel him hardening between my thighs, and as he entered me, I sighed, and kissed him back. We made hard, wet love in the bath, and the water grew cold around us, but we did not notice. At last, we dried each other off, and strolled into our bedroom. He had left a gift in the middle of the bed, as usual, and I went to unwrap it. He followed right behind me, pushing his body against mine provocatively, pressing me into the bed face down, rubbing his hardness all over me, touching me in every trembling spot he could reach.

"Adam!" I gasped. "I can't open the gift if you don't let up, honey. Just a little!"

He groaned, and rolled off me, staring unblinkingly into my bemused face. "Hurry up!" he growled hoarsely, and slowly rubbed my back as I sat up. The package was large, and I found sexy black and red nightgowns, underwear, slippers, and a picture. It made me gasp, "Where ... how...?" I was speechless.

"I took them and chose the one I liked best. Do you like it?" His eyes were uncertain. I looked at the picture of us wrapped in each other's arms in the throes of passion. It was so real, I felt myself growing hot just from looking at it.

"How did you do this? Where did you put the camera? How did I miss it? Where were the flashes?" I was full of questions.

"It's on video, honey. I just made a still of the shot I liked best. Do you mind?" Again he sounded uncertain.

I wasn't sure, but I was getting more and more wound up as I looked at the picture, and I turned back to him, letting it fall from my hands onto the floor. "I don't care right now," I whispered. "But I wonder if we could do that again?"

He pounced, like a lion on its prey. "I thought you'd never ask!" he whispered back, growling softly in his throat, nipping me playfully on my mouth, my cheeks, my throat, my breasts. Everywhere his teeth touched was in agony when he left it, and I thought I would burn up before he took me again. He prolonged the sweet torture, kissing me deeply, running his hands over me, pressing himself into me only when I thought I would faint from lack of him. Our joy in each other was so deep and we loved each other so much, there didn't seem to be anything to top those feelings. I awoke as I climaxed, the sensation so real that my heart was racing.

I looked around me, and he wasn't there. I wept bitterly, and then realized that, for the first time, I had dreamt of us making love from foreplay to climax. My dream had not been interrupted, and I felt satisfied, as I had not done since the last time we made love before he died. I smiled though my tears. If this was a gift to help me heal, I would grasp it with both hands, and never let it go.

DawnJ
DawnJ
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10 Comments
Bellej2009Bellej2009about 7 years ago
Thank you.

Love and loss and grieving: particularly the shock and denial and starting to accept the new reality. It is tough, and it does help to share. Keep writing.

BelleJ

northlandernorthlanderover 11 years ago
A really Good Story

I read the story on the recommendation of a mutual aquaintance and I have to agree with him that this is a true loving wives story. It is very touching and thought provoking, and as my wife and I approach our 55th Aniversary it makes me realise how exceptionaly lucky we have have been to still be together after all this time. Thanks for making me think. 5 stars

KOLKOREKOLKOREalmost 16 years ago
a heart ranching story at the edge of a thread...

The story begs to be continued, not only because it was so well written, but because the main theme was coping with loss, and the coping process in the story has just merely begun. No, there is no rule which states that an author must lead the characters out of their personal crisis; indeed you did so well in pointing out to the beginning of a process which eventually could lead the grieving Lee out of the first faze of her grieving. It's just that you portrayed in such evocative way and in beautiful details the beginning of a thread which we all know must still unroll...but than again so is life. Whatever you decide, thanks for the wonderful read.

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 16 years ago
Touching

beautiful and very well written

Alvaron53Alvaron53almost 16 years ago
Superb

Wonderfully written, thank you.

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