Merry Hell of a Widow 02: His

I stopped for a moment, stepping to the side, out of the path of other disembarking passengers. A deep breath, pausing for time by draping my suit jacket over the extended handle of my suitcase. It had been a long damn day. My phone heavy in my hand. I toyed with it. I toyed with the idea of just leaving the damn thing off. Imagining 'accidentally' leaving it behind on some anonymous airport seat. I stared at the black glass, lost in the fantasy of letting go... knowing I never would.

Instead I hit the power button and watched the screen flare to life and for the 5 mississippi's it took to load I hated myself for the hope that flared in my chest. Every damn time. Me wishing for a message that had never, and probably would never, come. It was funny. I always warned you that one day I would have to ghost you. There one day, suddenly gone the next. It had felt better when I thought it was going to be me that did the leaving. But this... not knowing. It ate me alive.

I hated myself again when the hope died. Our secret messenger silent. I opened it anyway. Just in case the notifications were broken. I hated myself when muscle memory automatically took me to the picture of you. Buried in a folder structure and hidden in a pool of group photos from some party we had attended together. Better to hide you in plain sight, lost amongst faces I no longer remembered. Gods, your smile still slays me, it always has. How could you leave without saying goodbye?

It took another deep breath before I was moving. Tucking you away, and catching up my jacket and the handle of my suitcase. I walked slowly, following the last of my fellow passengers as they made their way down streamlined blank corridors, guided ever onwards by the benign exit signs promising taxi ranks or a tour bus to whisk weary travellers further away. I didn't look outside, I didn't look up. The polished cement guiding me onwards and out.

I doubt I even blinked until I came to navigate the stairs. Again moving to the side to let someone pass. I looked up fleetingly, her chin tucked low, buried inside clothing more suited to a ski resort than an Australian airport. Her figure petite and careful, and followed by the scent of warm vanilla flowers and the bite of cinnamon. And all of a sudden it was 5 years ago and I was staring into your smiling eyes and hearing you laugh at one of my bad jokes.

My eyes eager and with a mind of their own, seeking you out even though I knew you weren't there. Instead they found the figure of the woman and her coat leaving through the exit doors, out in the baggage area. My feet making up their own mind to follow even though my bag was in my hand.

She seemed so familiar.

I suddenly hurried. Though I had no reason to. Wanting to keep her in sight. Her gait... seemed so familiar. Your smiling eyes haunting me from the distance of a memory seeming to goad me on until she stopped. I stood back, watching, my stance unsure. She found herself an empty corner and seemed to tuck herself away inside her clothes.

It could be you, I told myself.

It could be you.

She was thin, but the height was right, her walk... I studied her from within the crowd. Her smell. Your smell. It lingered in my nose, of warmth and spice.

She lifted her chin when the carousel started. A habit of interest that she quickly retracted, but it was long enough for me to see her jaw line, her lips, that mouth. I remembered when it smiled for me, bright and earnest.

It was then I felt my heart lurch.

It could be you.

My palms sweaty. I had to know. For sure. And yet I didn't want to know. To feel my heart break again when it wasn't. But then I would never know. I'd never forgive myself if I missed you.

Gods, her perfume. It struck at me when I got close. Rich and creamy and dripping with memories. You always smelled of vanilla and spices.

I coughed.

My voice caught in my throat.

"Excuse me."

She started. As if afraid. I coughed again. This was a mistake. You were never afraid of anything. My heart thundered in my chest.

"I'm sorry." I started to back away, " You looked like someone..."

And then she reached up almost as if in habit and pulled the sunglasses from her eyes. Your eyes. My heart threw my arms around you and suddenly I couldn't let you go.

"Woman," My breath left me in a gasp, all shock and whisper.

"I thought you were dead."

My arms seeming to lock around you of their own accord. Embracing you until my muscles burned with the same intensity as my heart. I had to take a deep breath, to fill my lungs with you before my arms would surrender their grasp and then when I did I saw the sorrow on your face, etched with tears. My thumbs smoothing over the hot trails before I pulled you into my arms again. You were home.

I insisted on carrying your bag. My arm through yours as we made our way to the cab line. I held your hand and waited for the driver to load our bags before I found my place beside you on the backseat. Your voice soft and rich as you told him where to go. I kissed the back of your hand, my fingers entwining in your own as you tried to sleep. God I didn't ever want to let you go. My phone buzzed and I watched you stir and then relax back into sleep before I answered it. Making my excuses, buying myself time I didn't have.

You were so weary, it provoked my care as it had always done. You never did take care of yourself. I took your hand and checked you in. My name signed on the form, the key in my hands. I lead your tired form through sterile hotel hallways before we found your room. A small apartment, big enough for one. I placed our bags together at the door and watched as you found the bathroom and ran a shower until the room filled with steam.

I ached to hold you. To undress you. To kiss you. To be rough and gentle and desperate. Unsure I stood at the threshold to the room. It was rude to stare. To watch as you undressed but I could not bare to look away. Your figure hesitant as you stood in your singlet and panties, staring at my hand. It was then I realised you were staring at my ring. Our silent boundary that always encircled our past, when we both loved each despite having no right to. I played with the thin band of gold, if I were a righteous man I wouldn't be here, but I had squared myself with that a long time ago.

There was no angst as I moved to you. Just a longing desire. I eased the fabric over your head. Tracing the line of your body before hooking my fingers beneath your panties and tugging them down your thighs. I was reminded then, of the last time that I saw you. In some distance hotel room cuddled against one another. Your eyes laughed then, so did your smile, before life stole your heart..

I was staring at you still as I undressed. Shirt, pants and trunks undone and left where they lay. In some haphazard pile against the wall. Naked, older, my insecurities forgotten in the rush of being with you. I took your hand and lead you beneath the water. Pulling you into me and against me. My hands running over you in streams of bubbles as I washed the travel from you, tracing every line of your body, remembering all my favourite places before worshipping the whole of you. Catching you up and kissing those full lips with every ounce of emotion I had to feel.

I was giddy to taste you again, as you pushed back into me. As you became supple under my hands. Like the long lost love you were. My cock throbbed in response to your soft murmurs as it slipped between your legs then in between your sex, opening the swollen folds of your pussy before easing inside your tight heat. Thrusting to depth. Wanting to be inside you wholly. Wanting to consume you. To be consumed by you. I hated my need but rejoiced in your body, in your eagerness to take me inside you. Your mouth finding mine again, your body moving against my own. I hid my face in your hair in a bid to hide the rawness of my heart. My weight holding you firmly against the tiles, grounding you so to better thrust myself within you, over and over. Until I had felt every last inch inside of you. My heart on my tongue as I said the words I wanted to send a thousand times in the last 5 years.

"Come back to me." I whispered, my lips on your ear.

"Come back to me." I whispered, my mouth kissing down the length of your neck.

"Come back to me." I whispered, my hand tracing your thigh to your knee, before hooking my hand beneath it in order to urge my cock deeper inside you.

"Come back to me." I whispered, returning your kiss that still tasted of tears.

"I am here." You answered. "I am here."

You held my face as my need drove my pace. Bracing with you against the shower wall, leaning into your elbows, tucked between our chests. You held my eyes with your own, willing me to take you. Coaxing me deeper, harder, until I spilled inside you. Coating your sex with my seed, reclaiming you again. My breath ragged and shuddering against your breasts as I rested my forehead to your chest. And when my cock finally slipped from your body, I held you even tighter. Holding you against me, leading you from the shower to towel and then to bed, where your body laid itself open to me and I sank into your warmth once more.

"Gods I have missed you."

The words left my mouth before I knew I had spoken them. I felt your tears hot on my forearm where they fell. I would have asked you if you were ok, but you never liked that question and I didn't want to hear you whisper "No."