tagRomanceOne More Chance At Love

One More Chance At Love


"A final check up on the 13th, that's next Friday, and I'll discharge her if everything is fine. You can resume sexual relations after that. Okay?"

The doctor's announcement created an uncomfortable silence. Brian looked over at Andrea. She was staring at her fingers which were nervously pleating the sheet covering her legs.

"Yes, Doctor. Thank you," he muttered, and then watched as the doctor bustled out of the room with his entourage.

"I wonder why doctors have all those people following them. It's kind of awkward. They can surely give us some privacy?" he wondered out loud as an attempt to dispel the embarrassed silence which had settled between them.

"They are medical students. They're here with him to learn," Andrea murmured.

"I know that, still..."

Andrea shrugged. "It doesn't matter. I don't mind."

Brian shrugged. Well, okay. If she doesn't mind, who was he to complain? She's the patient after all.

He got busy with gathering his things. He was supposed to go back home and do a final check on that report which was due tomorrow. He could stay and do his work here, but he hated hospitals. The smell, the look, the squeaky cleanness of the place, all of it unsettled him. It reminded him of things which were better forgotten. Things which would never be forgotten.


Brian tried to relax in the long drive back home, but instead his mind started once again on the path which had become all too familiar in the past few months. Since life had, well, screwed up on him.

Why did it have to happen to them? They had everything. Everything one could want, and more. Childhood sweethearts, they had grown up together, married young – third anniversary this February. He had a good job; Andrea was content working part-time from home. One and a half years into the marriage they had learned that she was pregnant. They had been so happy. Heaven.

In the seventh month she had lost the baby.

It had been horrible. She had lost a lot of blood and almost her life too. They had told her she couldn't conceive again.

The problems had started right after that. She had withdrawn into a shell, locked her grief inside her, repelled his advances, his support, his very touch. He had wanted to help her but she had not let him do it. Frustrated, Brian had begun to spending more and more time at work and before they knew, they had moved far away from each other.

Then, five weeks ago, the accident. Andrea crashed the car into a roadside tree. Onlookers said that she was barely doing 60. Brian did not ask what happened, she did not volunteer. Broken ribs, shards of the broken glass of the windshield embedded into her face, a fractured arm and innumerable bruises. For Brian, spending half of every day in the hospital, the very place which reminded him of disease, death and loss.

He frowned and shook his head as if doing that would chase away the thoughts. Lips moved into something resembling a smile as he dwelt upon the irony of the doctor's comment. Resume sexual relations on the 14th. February 14th. Their wedding anniversary. That would have been ideal, if only... A short, bitter laugh escaped into the closed confines of the car.


The next week was lingering embarrassment and trying to avoid each others' eyes. Polite smiles, meaningless, everyday talk and stealing unsure looks at each other in unguarded moments. And thoughts. Thoughts never left you alone.

It was almost a continuation of what they had been living for the past year, but not quite. There was something, maybe the doctor's announcement, or perhaps their anniversary, looming up before them and casting a gloomy shadow over the days.


Finally Friday.

"All Okay. You're fine. The cuts have healed nicely but there will be a thin scar on the forehead just below the hairline, hardly noticeable. You were lucky." The doctor smiled at Andrea as he made the pronouncement. "I can discharge you today if you want. I'd like to take an x-ray of the arm but you can come in to outpatient anytime next week for that. There's no need to stay here. You can make do without a nurse at home now. Just a little rest for about a week and you'll be back to normal. And no lifting heavy stuff with that hand for a while."

He signed the discharge slip, handed it to Brian and left in a flurry of white coats with his medical students.


The ride home in the car was quiet. Andrea, staring out of the passenger window and Brian, trying to look as if he was concentrating on the traffic.

"Anniversary tomorrow." It just burst out of Brian.

The silence from Andrea was so long that he began wondering if she had heard him.

Finally she turned towards him. She was crying. She just nodded.

Brian tried to swallow past the lump in his throat.

"Andrea..." His voice sounded husky. He took a deep breath and tried again. "The last year was... bad. We lost our baby. We lost happiness, peace of mind, and the belief that we were lucky to have got each other. And that first year of marriage was bliss. Andrea, I don't know what to tell you... this isn't planned. I'm just trying to speak from the heart here. We've lost a lot. But I'd like to believe we still have each other." He stopped here for a minute to reorganise his thoughts and deliberated on how to continue. "We have moved away from each other this past year. I have tried to share your grief but...," he trailed off. After a deep breath, he continued, "Andrea, I love you. You're still the same woman I fell in love with and married. I want us to... I don't know how to put it. I want one more chance at love."

Brian peeked at her from the corner of his eyes. She was still. Tears were running down her pale cheeks and dripping down in droplets from her chin on to her blouse. Her hands were tightly clasped around the handle of the bag she carried, the knuckles white.

They arrived home and the moment was lost as Brian busied himself with getting her settled comfortably in bed and transferring all the knick-knacks which had accumulated in the hospital for the past month into the house.


"Breakfast. Breakfast's ready and here, Andy." The cheery voice filled the room as Brian manoeuvred himself and a carefully laden tray into the bedroom and to Andrea's bedside. "Come on, come on. Wake up!"

He deposited the tray on the bedside table and then peeled back the blanket into which Andrea was huddled. She always slept with a horde of blankets pulled right up to her ears. As soon as Brian uncovered her eyes she frowned.

"Wha...? What time 's it?" her blurry voice enquired.

"Eight," Brian informed her.

"Go away," she muttered and turned to the other side, away from Brian, pulling the blankets around her and settling in.

Brian leaned over her sleeping form and watched her try to get back to sleep. Her eyes were determinedly screwed shut, tightly; and there was a little frown on her brow. She looked cute. He leaned over further and kissed her on her nose which was just peeking out from under the covers.

"Brian... no. Go 'way. It's still too early. Eight is not a sensible time," she murmured sleepily.

"Not sensible for what, sweety?" he asked in a soft voice.

"Not sensible for anything."

Brian chuckled. "It's our anniversary," he whispered in her ear.

The frown cleared.

"And Valentine's Day too," he continued.

The eyes almost opened.

"And..." he paused.

Her body tensed under him, waiting.

"...I have a romantic breakfast-in-bed tray here. Complete with a red rose in this vase type thing."

A faint smile touched her lips.

"You can't let all of this go waste, can you?"

"Nahh... can't," she agreed.

"Then are you going to sit up and kiss this nice husband of yours Good Morning and look at this fabulously prepared tray and swoon over the time and expertise taken to prepare it and..."

Laughter interrupted him and he wrapped his arms around her, joining her in the enjoyment.


"That was good. Thank you." They had finished breakfast and Andrea was staring thoughtfully at the red rose in an old bottle of Soya sauce. "Where did you get this bottle?" she asked, amusement in her voice.

"Was standing right next to the trash can," Brian replied sheepishly.

"Thought so."

"Don't look at the bottle; look at the rose and the sentiment behind it. Isn't it the thought that counts?"

Andrea laughed quietly. "Yep. It is. Thanks."

Brian took her hands into his, her palms facing upwards. His thumb moved in slow circles on her soft palms. He was looking fixedly at them, as if taking some sort of an inspiration.

"Andrea, we were talking last night, in the car, then we reached home and the topic was just forgotten. But I don't want it to be. It's too important to me, Andy, and too important for us. This," he waved a hand at the empty breakfast tray, "is not just for showing off. I didn't do it because I was supposed to or because it might be expected. I wanted to. Today, this, it was good. We were just a regular couple crazily in love with each other. The past year was, well, if not forgotten, then definitely buried and in the past. This shows us that it can happen, Andrea. We can try getting back to each other and we can make it. I'm not saying it is easy and I am not expecting instant results. I'm just trying to tell you that we can try in a small way, each day. I want you back, Andrea. I want us back."

He glanced up at her. She was biting her lip, like she usually did when she was too overwhelmed but didn't want to cry. He moved the breakfast tray from between them and set it down on the floor beside the bed, went to sit beside her. Placing one arm over her shoulders, he gently guided her head to rest on the crook of his arm. His other hand clasped her hand into his.

They sat like that, lost in togetherness for a while.

"Andrea, I don't want you to feel that I'm pressurising you into anything."

Her head moved in a small negative shake on his shoulder.

"We can go at your pace. And if you don't want to..."

The hand which was clutching his, tightened.

"...I don't know. There's nothing I can do if you don't want to come towards me. I want to see you happy. I... I just want to tell you that whenever you decide to come, I'll be waiting. With open arms."

Another hand joined their entwined fingers and she cupped his large hand between her smaller ones. There was silence for a while as she moved her hands against his in soothing motions.


It was a whisper. He strained to hear her.

"I'm afraid."

"Afraid?! Of what?" It burst out of him incredulously.

"Of wanting too much. We've shared a lot of happiness Brian. After that, when it gets taken away, it just hurts too much. We had everything. Then... then it somehow... I don't know what happened. It was simply not there one fine day. We lost everything. In one sudden incident our world was cruelly morphed into this... this place I wouldn't wish on any person in this world. That devastation is too hard to handle Brian. I simply cannot take it another time. I'm afraid of loving you. I'm afraid of being happy. I'm afraid that it will be taken away from me and I will again become the automaton I was during those first few months after..." she broke off as her voice choked and she turned towards Brian, curling against his chest.

As he cuddled her against him, Brian was too overcome with emotion to speak. He knew the way Andrea was thinking was wrong. To hear someone he loved speak that way, give up all hope and let life pass by, it was too distressing. Life was not something you could sit and watch from afar while it finished. It touched you with its joys and sorrows. It involved you into it, however much you wanted to remain detached. It never let you get away, not until death came to claim you from its hold. Then the best way to live life would be to embrace it and squeeze out the happiness from it while being touched by the sadness too, because there's no one without the other.

He started speaking.

"Andrea, I know you were hurt. So was I. We... we lost some dreams Andy. We lost a bit of the future. But we didn't lose our past. We didn't lose us, our togetherness, our love. Can we ever? We never lost what we already had. And what we didn't have, is it possible to lose? It was never ours. Never to be. Accepting that is necessary, Andrea." He stopped to assemble his thoughts into a more coherent stream. "We have each other. We have love. We have a lifetime together. We're lucky to have all this. We have so much more than what most couples have. Our love is precious, Andrea. We cannot let it die like this, with this neglect. We have to make it grow to compensate for all that which we cannot have, to be a source of happiness throughout this lifetime. And we can do that. We definitely can."

Brian stopped and pulled Andrea more towards himself. He didn't know what else to say. He so desperately wanted her to understand and come to him.

The silence seemed to be the longest of his life.



"Can we... I'd like to... I mean..." She stopped and sighed. "Love me," she said simply.

Brian felt as if he had not heard sweeter words. His brain went off into a euphoric state which he had missed. He had been accustomed to those moments long ago. When Andrea had agreed to his marriage proposal, the day they got married, the first time they made love, the subsequent...

"Are you still with me?"

The question nudged him out of his thoughts and he laughed. "Yes, sweetheart. I'm here. Very much with you. I was just thinking about... ahh, well, later."

Brian placed his fingers under her chin and tilted her face up towards him. Dipping his head down, he kissed her on the lips; lightly, just a brush.

Andrea sighed and shifted her position to enable her to meet his lips more comfortably. One leg thrown over his thighs, she moved almost into his lap, facing him.

A thought occurred to Brian. "Can you do this? I mean, you're still... will it hurt or something? The doctor said to take it easy."

Her eyes twinkled as she answered, "He also said we could resume sexual relations."

"But are you sure it won't hurt?"

"No, I'm not. Just go gently and I'll let you know if there's any problem. Get on with it."

So, he did. Placing his hands on either side of her face, he started kissing her, starting with her forehead, brushing her closed eyes, drifting on to her cheeks, moving to her chin, burrowing a long time into her neck and then finally backtracking and lingering on her lips. He moved her more fully into his lap with her legs folded back on either side of him.

The light touch of his lips on hers made her want for more. She wound her hands around his head and increased the pressure, opening her mouth and running her tongue across his lips, sucking and biting them lightly.

Brian started running his hands on her back. He had always loved the way she wriggled when he touched her back right – a light, feathery, fingertip touch, enough to be felt but barely registering. It had the desired effect and she squirmed in his arms, causing her upper body to rub against his and her nipples to become hard with the contact. This was the time to move his hands to cup her breasts, full and heavy with longing.

He loved the fact that she never wore underclothes to bed. It was better than sleeping naked. There was something which could be removed, like unwrapping of a gift each time, but not too much of it, and not too complicated with frustrating hooks or clasps. Just a little tug and her soft, nightshirt would be off her.

Andrea arched and pushed her breasts into Brian's hands. He kneaded them while she kissed him hungrily. She began to grind her hips into his crotch and felt him harden up against her centre through his pants. Continuing to rub against him, she felt the sweet, satisfying feeling of his hardness touching her there. She wanted to get closer to him.

Wrenching her mouth off his, she burst out, "Brian, now and fast. Don't want to wait."

She wanted this too badly. It had been too long since the last time.

Brain got a firm hold on her waist, moved them away from the head of the bed and laid her gently on her back, taking care to see that he didn't hurt her. Taking hold of the ends of her nightshirt, he lifted it over her outstretched arms over her head. With his eyes on her naked form spread out in front of him, he proceeded to get his clothing off quickly.

Andrea opened her arms to him as he settled on top of her, his mouth at her nipple. The nibbling, sucking and licking drove her wild in no time and had her moving her head in side to side, her moans the vocal pleas to her want. She felt herself getting wetter and wetter, her juices seeping out of her with every passing moment. When she could take it no longer, she gently pulled him up towards her, signalling her need silently.

He understood and moved over her, rising to guide himself to enter her. With one deep thrust he was inside her and the loving was familiar, remembered, yet it was new, as if they were rediscovering each other. The smooth, easy thrusts, her warm centre enveloping him, her breathless, whispered endearments, and his moans through clenched teeth; all came back to them. They were reacquainted with these fragmented memories they thought they had left behind, but which would now be repeated, reinforced again and again.

The pace of their lovemaking got faster and faster, rose to a high, paused there for a glorious moment and then shattered with them into a million pieces, each an affirmation of their love for each other.

Brian and Andrea tumbled on to their sides, their arms around each other, their breaths coming in gasps, their sweaty bodies pressed into each other, lying there, content, as the day began, secure in the knowledge that they could make it work, with love.



Hope you liked the story. Votes and feedback are always appreciated. Every feedback with a return email address will receive a reply. I like hearing from you. Please do write. :)


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