What's Done In the Dark(9)

I stared at my mother, impressed. “Wow, that was deep, Mom.”

“I know a little sumthin’, sumthin’.” She stood and winked. “I hope you heed what I’m telling you. But now I’m going to look up some Bible verses on money. Maybe I’m not praying right.”

I would’ve laughed at her, but her words were weighing heavily on me. Was I pushing my husband away? Was I blaming my family because I wanted to wallow in pity? Was I not giving my marriage the time we needed to grow our love? I sat in silence as my mother’s words sank in. Something inside me said that she was right. Maybe I was the problem. Maybe I needed to make a change.

The more I sat thinking, the more I decided my mother was spot on. So tomorrow would be a new day. I didn’t know how, but I was going to end this pity party and try to focus on making my husband—and me—happy.





6


Felise


MY BRAIN AND MY BODY were in a tug of war. My brain said to go left toward the exit, but my body went right toward the elevator. Before I knew it, I was standing outside room 527, tears streaming down my face.

I knew that I needed to take my butt home.

But I needed this more. I needed to feel Steven again. If only for one night. I needed to know what it felt like to be loved on every inch of my body. Three long years ago was the last time I’d been taken to the heights of pleasure. I’d tried everything to talk to Greg: therapy—which he refused to go to—talking, books, everything. And still he wouldn’t listen. He couldn’t accept that my needs weren’t being met. And he was insulted that I would insinuate that he wasn’t doing his manly duties. He kept asking me to cut him some slack because of how hard he was working for me and our daughter, Liz.

I needed love. I needed loving.

I took a deep breath, then told myself if Greg had loved me right, I wouldn’t be here about to do wrong.

I was crossing into dangerous territory. But in my heart, I was looking forward to going inside, anticipating what the night held.

You loved him first.

The little voice that had been guiding me up the elevator spoke up, as if to give me that one last push before I changed my mind.

I dipped the key into the lock, then walked in to see Steven sitting nervously on the edge of the bed. He was still fully dressed and looked like he had completely sobered up. He stood up awkwardly as I came in.

“I–I wasn’t sure if you were going to come,” he said.

My gaze shifted downward. “Me either.”

“Believe it or not, I really have been faithful.”

“Me, too.”

“But, I . . .” He stepped closer. “I’ve never felt so alone.”

“Me either.”

“Felise, I don’t . . .”

I held up my hands to stop him. “I know,” I whispered.

He stepped closer, until I could feel the heat from his body. His breathing was labored, and I could tell he was having an inner battle—just like me.

Steven gently ran a finger behind my ear, then down my neck and around to my chest.

He still remembered what turned me on.

I released a slow moan as I relished his touch. “This is so wrong,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

“It is. But I want you, Felise. I need you.”

We each waited on the other to move until finally unbridled passion made our decision for us.

He kissed me with a ferociousness I hadn’t felt in years. Everything inside me wanted to protest, stop him before we went too far, but when I opened my mouth, once again nothing came out. And the minute I felt his tongue, my body reacted. When our tongues did a slow dance, I shivered. When he kissed my neck, I needed more.

He slowly slid off my dress. “Oh, my God,” he said when he noticed my negligee, which I’d forgotten I was still wearing. “You. Are. Stunning,” he said, running his eyes up and down my body. It felt so good to be appreciated. To be wanted.

He didn’t ask why I had the negligee on. He just planted sensual kisses all over my body. Steven took me the height of ecstasy right there against the wall of the hotel room. And before I could catch my breath, he was guiding me toward the bed, where he did it again and again.

Waves of euphoria filled my body until I collapsed in his arms. I realized that slow tears were sliding down my cheeks. I wanted to believe they were guilty tears, but I knew better. These were tears of pure bliss, peppered with thoughts of what could have been.

After we finished, we lay in silence. I snuggled close to him as his arms formed a protective barrier around me.

“I don’t know the last time I felt like this,” he said.

“Me either.” We relapsed into silence—a blissful, comfortable silence—for a while. Then I sat up. “Why didn’t we work?” I knew I didn’t need to be going there. But as I’d watched his happy life with Paula over the years, I can’t tell you the number of times I wondered why that couldn’t have been me. I didn’t realize how much I’d suppressed my feelings until this unexpected release.