Still In Love with Sophia

Louis Gosset checked the time on his wristwatch for the umpteenth time, sighed, and then reached for his glass of Bacardi. He occupied a table at the back corner of the restaurant/pub he was in. From where he sat by the window he had an open view of the street and sidewalk. As he sipped his drink, he kept glancing out the window, hoping to catch sight of his wife whom he was there waiting for.

He had some news he wanted to make known to her. Some pretty shocking news. In his mind he'd replayed how he planned and revealing the news to her, and each time his lines sounded more terrible than the former. He reached into his jacket and took out his wallet. From a recess corner he pulled out two passport photographs. One was the smiling features of his wife of twenty-two years, Sophia. The photograph was five years old; he couldn't help but smile, hard to believe it's been five years since he'd been carrying this photograph everywhere with him ... ever since he'd lost his previous wallet at a New York City subway.

The second photograph wasn't of Sophia. The woman whose face smiled seductively at him was much younger than his Sophia. While Sophia was blessed with lush auburn hair that fell to her shoulders with dimpled cheeks, this other's features was angular like that of a runaway model, her hair was sandy-blonde and cut short in the form of a page-boy. Her name was Kate. She was his lover.

She was the reason he'd called his wife while at his office two hours ago asking her to meet him here for lunch break. Unfortunately, lunch was the furthest thing from his mind. How was he going to break the news to his wife that his love for her was currently less of what he had for his lover ... and to seek a divorce from her.

He'd been seeing Kate going on four months now -- my God, four months! -- more for fun and pleasure than for anything else. He'd figured at the time that there was probably little else he could want from her aside from sex. He had a loving wife, they had grown-up kids, though they'd had their ups and downs, they'd stuck through the flame and lived past it ... except of late he'd been feeling kind of lost about things. Kate, he figured, was it. She was outgoing, vivacious and a terrific lay ... and of late she'd been expressing her feelings towards him in words he knew assumed she'd use.

"I love you, Louis," she said.

Louis at first had his eyes shut and pretended not to hear her. They were in bed a week ago in her apartment, naked. They'd finished a bout of love making less than twenty minutes ago. The windows were open and the ceiling fan rotated on its highest but still the room permeated with the sweet, exotic smell of cum and sweat.

Her hand shook him and he had no choice but to become awake. He acted disoriented. "Uh ... what, did you say something?"

She leaned over his chest, hugging him. "I said I love you."

Louise didn't reply. She looked up at him curiously.

"Aren't you going to say anything?"

He sighed. "Kate, you know there's barely little I can say in such matters."

"Well, don't you have any feelings towards me?"

"Of course I do. You know I do."

"But you hardly say anything."

"Some things you can't always find so easy to say when it comes to words."

"Well, I don't care. I love you, I love you, I love you. There, I just said it three times, it's so simple. If I can say it, why can't you?"

Stupid, Louise. Why couldn't you just tell her the truth: Kate, the reason why I can't and am not going to say those words to you is because I've already said them to someone else way before I met you. My wife.

But he never did. Instead he'd curled his lips into a smile and kissed her. "I love you too."

Kate responded to his kiss with a more passionate one. They'd made love one more time after that.

But though he liked Kate -- liked her very much, did he really -- truly -- love her? Would he have a happier life being with her than the one he presently had with his wife? Did he really have the balls to say those hurtful five words -- honey, I want a divorce! -- to Sophia without breaking a sweat? Time after time he'd burdened himself with this question. Now as he sat there ogling the photograph of both women in his hand, he still was at a loss as to which road to take.

He looked up and his eyes came alive as he saw his Sophia crossing the street, coming towards the restaurant. Louis quickly pawned the photographs into his jacket pocket and tried to steady his hands and nerves while she approached.

The restaurant's front door came open and in walked Sophia, looking just as radiant and lovely in her brown autumn jacket and grey slacks. Louis stood up and waved at her. She flashed him as smile as she came to join him. They hugged at the same time kissed each other before sitting down.

"I'm sorry I'm late," Sophia said, freeing herself from her jacket. "Have you been waiting long?"

"No, not long enough," Louis lied.

A moment of silence passed between them. It was obvious they both had something on each other's minds and each was waiting for the other to begin. Louis figured right away he should set free the burden that was in his heart. He glanced down at his drink while he tried to arrange the words.

"Sophia ... there's uhh ... something I need to --"

"Louis, I'm dying."

Louis looked up instantly. "What?"

Sophia had a despondent look on her face. "The reason why I was late was because lately I haven't been feeling too fine with myself. I've been having some terrible headaches ... sometimes I feel dizzy -- things just start spinning before my eyes -- and I haven't been getting much appetite. I thought it was something I ate, didn't think it was anything serious which I why I never told you. This morning I went to the hospital for some tests. The results came back an hour ago." She gulped, struggled to continue. "Louis ... honey ... I've got a brain tumour. It's killing me. Or rather, it's going to kill me."

Louis at that moment felt his entire world come crashing down with a giant bang. He wanted to say something, his lips fell open, but words just wouldn't come out. He felt like he was being choked. He reached for the remainder of his Bacardi and downed the drink. He thought he felt some strength coming back.

"What did ... what did the doc ... doctor say?" he inquired.

Sophia already was starting to cry. She was about reaching into her handbag but Louis beat her to it, offering her his handkerchief. She dabbed her eyes, but still the tears poured out, and sniffled.

"He says it's spreading ... fast. He even gave me an estimate -- two months. Highest three."

She brought her hands over her face and broke into tears. Louis came over to sit beside her, wrapped an arm across her shoulder and comforted her. He too was just as shocked and devastated by the news; the thought of what he'd wanted to say to her no longer glimmered on his lips. Sophia rested her head upon him, still convulsing with tears. Louis kept telling her not to worry that everything would be alright. He was here for her, and wasn't going anywhere.

"I'm so sorry, darling," she muttered. "I wish ... Oh God, I wish you'd never met me. I wish I were dead already."

"Don't say that. You're my wife ... mother to my children. No matter what, we'll fight through this. I promise."

She glanced up at him with teary eyes, and said in a shaky voice. "If you ... if you want to leave me, Louis ... believe me you can ... if you really want to. I will understand."

Louis didn't say anything. There really was nothing for him to say -- the decision -- his choice -- was already made. He was going to stay with her. It was during that short moment as he sat beside her hugging her, comforting her, that he realised how much he still loved her. It was a feeling he wasn't going to throw away.

When he returned to work after seeing his wife into a taxi and sending her home, he took out Kate's photograph from his wallet and tore it up. He would give her a call once he was done from work and tell her to find another lover.

A couple of nights later, long after he'd said goodbye to Kate, he lay in bed cuddling beside his wife when she kissed his cheek and whispered: "Make love to me, Louis. I want to feel you in me tonight."

Louis took off his clothes and assisted his wife out of his. He made her lie back on the bed and kissed her body. He especially took his time kissing every part, every curvature of her breasts, rubbing his tongue across her areolas before nibbling on her nipples. Sophia murmured a sigh and arched her back upwards as Louis kissed her navel region before delving down to the low growth of hair that signalled her pubic region.

Suddenly, like water flowing ceaselessly under a bridge, the memories came back to him. Undying memories of romance and love he'd shared with his Sophia. It was almost as if he were making love to her for the very first time as he pushed her legs gently aside to bury his face and lips between her wetness. Even as she squirmed and caressed his hair, moaning aloud her pleasure, he failed to let go of her. Even when she climaxed, his lips and tongue still went on sucking on her juice and clit, not wanting to let go.

Finally he did let go. Sophia pushed him on his back and took his cock in her mouth. His hand swept her hair from her face. They made eye contact. She remained eternally beautiful, just as she'd been when they first met. She mounted him, and together they rode each other in almost synchronized unison. Their fingers locked against each others. She rested on top of him, rocking her ass side to side while he soaked himself in the leisure of the satisfaction. A while later he turned her over. She wrapped her legs over his waist and urged him to keep on doing it. They gasped in each other's faces as their lips sought the other's.

And when they came, it happened almost as if they were one.