Author: Ann Elizabeth PM
One of those times when you write, not knowing what you're writing or why. A wedding to a wedding night. Fifty years shared and the flame they started never dies. It happens, it isn't impossible. A dream I had once and remembered when I had nothing elRated: Fiction M - English - Romance - Words: 2,600 - Reviews: 11 - Favs: 2 - Published: 06-06-05 - id: 1932415
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
I wrote this in the dead of night. For several nights I had nothing to write, I was blocked on all my stories, but my mind raced with ideas for each. So I started writing randomness, hoping it would be part of one of my other stories. It wasn't, to my surprise.
This story was kind of like a sketch. I didn't know what it was becoming until it was over. I wrote it with no recognition, as if I were in a dream. When it was done and I read it for the first time, I blushed. This was a wedding night…and I had no idea what a wedding night was. I thought it a good story even as I thought it inappropriate. Interesting, that's the word. Weird, there's another one. Tell me what you think.
She wasn't sure when she would stop counting like that. She supposed when the days became a week, the weeks become a month, and the months become a year, then she would begin the traditional count. Time would fly by and they'd be celebrating fifty years together.
Until then it was tonight.
He slid the little card in the slot to their honeymoon suite and ushered her inside with a goofy grin on his face. She walked into the living area and kicked off her shoes, placing her purse on the coffee table.
She didn't flip on the light he noticed as he followed her to the bedroom. The only light she did turn on was the bathroom light and he braced on the doorjamb to watch her take off her jewelry.
She never wore makeup. "Lip gloss is all you need," she'd say. All the gloss had worn off her lips now. She saw his reflection in the mirror as he stared at her face, her eyes, her lips, and she smiled at him.
It was a half smile, full of uncertainty. She wasn't used to anyone looking at her and she blushed. He loved that blush of hers. It showed upon her face when she caught him looking at her and he wondered if it would be like this forever. When he'd look at her years from now, would she still blush?
He pushed his shoulder off of the doorjamb when she walked past him. She was trying to play at nonchalance. She was trying to let him make his first move. It scared her, if she were being honest with herself. It scared her and excited her at the same time. God had brought them together and bound them for life, creating them into one flesh and she was forever his. Forever they will be together and it scared her. She couldn't quite picture perfectly her life with him forever. Oh, she could picture it, she would love it. Even thought it was a blur in her mind, it was written in her heart.
When she reached the bed, she stopped. Her next step would be to undress and put on her pajamas. The vulnerability caught her in a moment. He saw her body as it went stiff and he knew what was in her mind. He knew what to do even as he was asking God for help. His mind raced, what are you doing? You have no clue what you're doing, do you? He didn't. But he did. He loved her and it guided him somehow.
She closed her eyes and held her breath when his hands covered her shoulders. Why hadn't she turned on the light? Why hadn't she thought of this the whole night? She could have thought of what to do. She could have developed a plan, a smooth move.
His hands moved down her arms to her waist and she hugged her arms tight around herself. She had shared a lot with him, her faith, her thoughts, and now her heart, her life. Her body she had yet to share with him.
Likewise, he was scared to death. She had joked with him earlier at their wedding reception that if he could still love her when she was pale and sick, then he would be fine. If he could love her in her worst moments, when she had a cold or a fever or was fat and pregnant, he knew she could be reassured he'd love her through it all. Forget being sick. This was it. This was him at his worst. If she could love him when he knew absolutely nothing of what he was doing, then she must really love him.
His arms circled around her, surrounding her with his warmth. His instincts told him to be close to her. Hers told her to turn around and do the same. When she did, her arms were still held tightly around her stomach, protecting her against him. This is stupid, she told herself. He's your husband. God what do I do? Her eyes were downcast and she hid her face against his chest. This was humiliating.
She could feel and hear him chuckle before he raised her chin. It was dark, she had turned off the bathroom light when she went to get dressed, hoping he wouldn't see her undress, he supposed. He could see the outline of her beautiful face and he felt the barrier she had put up between them. He felt her breathing deeply, trying to gain her control. His smile faded when he felt a hot tear roll across his fingers.
She couldn't believe she was crying. She didn't even know why. Not knowing brought tears of anger and she closed her eyes against them. When was this going to start being beautiful? When was this going to start feeling wonderful? It didn't feel wonderful. If anything, it hurt, it broke her heart. She couldn't do this. Not that she'd had any doubts of that when she'd said, "I do." He took her face in his hand and bent to kiss her. Her forehead furrowed.
"My love," he whispered, not finishing his question. Why was she crying? He knew why. She was scared. She was vulnerable. For reasons only known deep within him, her vulnerability made his heart swell. His hands moved down to her arms, prompting her to open her eyes. They were glazed over with unshed tears. The moon had shown from behind a cloud, filtering through the slit in the curtain, showing the sheen across her eyes.
She loved this man who, even now, looked down at her with admiration. She loved him for the gentleness he showed in the power of his arms around her. He tightened his grip around her, comforting her the only way he knew how. She rose to her toes, moving her hands to his shoulders to kiss him under his jaw. There she nestled against him, removing her arms from between them to encircle his neck. She was on her tiptoes, nearly coming off the floor to be close to him.
"I'm scared," she whispered under his chin. His arms still holding them together, she arched back just far enough to look up to his eyes. She conveyed a message to him, a message only lovers share. She was scared. Scared he would laugh at her, as laughable as that sounded. Scared he wouldn't love her, such a crazy thought. Scared she wouldn't please him, as she so longed to do. She did long to please him with her all. She loved him, would never stop loving him, and she knew he felt the same way.
He kissed her with less hesitation, with more determination. He kissed her for the first time with certainty. It was a hard kiss, angled, begging for a response. He loved her. Don't do this, he thought. Don't tear yourself apart, I will have to follow. Don't. I love you.
It was all she needed to know. Something came alive inside of her. It was one of those kisses they talked about and fabricated in movies and novels. It was a kiss that made sparks fly and sent electricity scourging through both parties. Their first kiss was a modest one while the whole church watched. Their friends and family came to see them married and when the pastor had said, "You may now kiss the bride," he hesitated a brief second as the whole room held their breath. He kissed her now with passion. Because it was almost as if he bled for her. Inside, he felt her pain and wanted only to erase it. In its place, he wanted to place love and happiness. He wanted her to feel the exact same thing he felt at this very moment. That close wasn't nearly close enough.
She felt it and reacted to it. Her lips softened to his and all her apprehension melted away. Peace coupled with excitement fell to rest at the pit of her stomach and the weight of it seemed to lift her off the ground. Or maybe it was his strength lifting her. She couldn't quite tell.
He did, he lifted her, feeling their bodies mingle perfectly. God had truly made them for each other. They fit perfectly and he would never cease to be in awe by that. She broke their kiss to take a breath, even though she could hardly breathe. He braced himself and eased her down onto the bed. It was as if someone had turned a switch inside them both. Though their movements were in pure discovery, they knew exactly what to do. No barrier was between them now. Their hearts, their minds, their souls were connected. Their bodies.
She cried out in surprise and everything about the moment stopped. She had been ready for this, craved it. She should not have been so shocked, had felt the exact moment they would join together. The only thought she'd managed was that she would finally be complete. He completed her, with his love, with everything about him. God had made her heart whole so long ago and now came His gift. But nothing would have prepared her for it.
It wasn't pain she had felt, her body was already acclimating to him and they fit perfectly together. It wasn't pain so much as it was surprise. She had never felt this before and neither had he. He feared he had done this too soon. She wasn't ready, he'd hurt her. What to do? Be still. A whisper to his soul calmed him. He looked down at her as she opened her eyes he had thought closed tight in pain. Her eyes seemed to have become deeper and softer. Her face was radiant in the moonlight. Her smile was full and bright. As she looked up, he looked worried and distressed. She knew what he was thinking, what he was feeling. She wished to dispel his unease.
"My love," she said, running her hand across his cheek. It was her turn to cast away fear and bolster broken words. It was her turn to take a step into the unknown.
He was still within her, holding his breath against tears. He had hurt her and he could never forgive himself for it. There was a better way. There was a better way to do this, there had to be. He had no way of knowing, as she had, that it was nothing to be alarmed about.
"I hurt you," he said when he managed to take a breath.
She smiled. "No," she said, slowly shaking her head. She brought his head down and kissed him gently. She arched against him so show the pleasure she took in him, to prove do him that he hadn't hurt her. On the contrary.
He was meant for her. She was meant for him. They were made for each other and God revealed to them a gift that they had only in each other. They would know no other besides one another. Something the world found disdain in God had made beautiful. And it was, as He created it to be.
When the morning light began to creep through the curtains, he stirred. He was about to move, to stretch, as was customary for his early-rise personality, but then he remembered. He opened his eyes to stare at the room, the door, the ceiling, her. They had made their way up to the pillows and under the covers. She was covered to her waist, lying curled up on her side facing toward him. Her arm came across her and her hand rested under her cheek. She looked like a little girl.
Through her sleep, she felt his gaze and awoke to find him staring at her. Oh gosh, he was staring at her sleeping. Did she snore? Did she drool? She blushed and he laughed as she drew closer to him. He was finding out little things about her he never knew when he married her. He was staring at her and she blushed. He knew now for certain it would be like that always.
"You aren't laughing at me are you," she asked with a giggle. Raising herself to look down at him, he put his arms behind his head and nodded. Pretending to be disgusted with his humor she pushed away from him to the edge of the bed. She threw her legs over the side and stretched. Her back curved and her hair fell down in waves over it. He sidled over to her, put has hand on her waist, edging it around to her stomach, and kissed her shoulder.
"I love you," he said, serious now.
She turned her head toward him, looking at him through the corner of her eye. His eyes had stars in them. His jaw was scratchy with scruff. She leaned back against him.
"I love you too," she said. It's day two, she thought. The morning was turning out to be beautiful. She had planned on going to the pool, but she doubted she could summon up the strength to leave his side. He ran his hand along her curves as they laid back down together and just held each other.
Each day became a new day. Each touch became something to discover. So many marriages let the honeymoon dwindle, the romance lay stagnant. For the life of them, they couldn't tell you why that was. There were times, between kids and jobs and appointments to be met, they fought. Even fighting seemed to be another way to grow closer.
Fifty years was now past, the day gone. Their three beautiful children were grown, starting families of their own. He laid with her in the darkness and they still found comfort in each other. He smelled her hair, twined his fingers in hers as she slept, and he remembered their wedding night. It was as if he was there and he was there every morning. He thanked God for these fifty years as he'd thanked Him that first morning when he awoke and she was still by his side.