6 COLE
I walk back to the bedroom, closing the door behind me.
The minute the door is closed, I start stripping for a shower.
I don’t worry about her walking in. I know she won’t join me even though I invited her.
Right now, she’s like a caged animal, and she’ll attack if I corner her.
No, the best thing to do tonight is to give her space and let her get used to what she thinks of as her cage.
I toss my shirt into the laundry basket, and I walk into the bathroom, where I strip off the rest of my clothes.
I know I showered this morning, but something about the day has left me feeling dirty and needing another.
It’s not like I have a lot of things to do at this point.
I’m only ever in the bedroom to sleep. I usually spend most of the night in the living room, watching TV until I doze off and finally get up to take my butt to bed.
But I can’t do that tonight. The living room is her space, so I’m trapped in my own damn house.
I step into the shower and close my eyes as I start washing my hair.
Everything about tonight feels off, and I know it’s because she’s here.
How is it possible that I can feel her even though we’re in two different rooms of the house?
I should be able to just pretend that she’s still gone off doing whatever the hell she wants, but I can’t.
I know she’s here. My body knows she’s here, and my mind takes over as I close my eyes to wash my hair.
One minute, I’m in the shower alone, and the next, I’ve gone back ten years.
I’m washing my face in the shower when the door opens, and a cold gust of wind blows against my backside.
“Whoa,” I say, turning around to find my beautiful wife climbing in the shower with me.
I smirk. “What are you doing in here?” I ask, my hands reaching for her hips as I pull her chest against mine.
She smiles as her green eyes move up and lock on mine.
She wets her lips and seeing her tongue run across her bottom lip draws me in and makes me want to feel them against mine.
And that’s what I do. I don’t wait for her to answer my question.
I just press my mouth to hers, and she kisses me back.
My body comes alive instantly, and it’s exactly what she wanted because she reaches out and wraps her hand around my shaft, moving slowly up and down, teasing me.
I shake the thought from my head, but when I look down, my dick is standing at attention.
Fuck.
Taking an annoyed breath, I wrap my hand around it myself. As I pump, my eyes fall closed, and before I know it, I’m back in that memory.
With my mouth on hers, I push her back up against the wall and pick her up against me.
Her legs wrap around my hips, and I position myself against her entrance.
One roll of my hips is all it takes to slide deep inside.
The moment we’re connected as one, she lets out a long moan into my mouth.
My hands hold her hips as I pull back and push back in again and again.
With each thrust, her moans grow louder, and I’m getting closer to exploding.
Her whimpers echo around the small bathroom.
It’s like watching porn with surround sound, which only adds to the experience.
Her muscles tighten around me as her screams grow louder.
My hips pick up the pace, moving faster and pushing her over the edge.
Before I know it, I’m falling over the edge with her.
Everything I have spills onto the shower floor, and I pump until I’ve emptied myself of every last drop.
My heart is racing, my lungs pumping as I lean against the wall, letting my body calm down.
It takes several minutes before I’m able to control myself again, but once I can finally think straight, I quickly wash off before climbing out and drying off.
The mirror is covered in steam, so I open the door that leads to my bedroom to let some cool air in.
I wipe my hand over the glass and catch a glimpse of myself.
My hair is long and soaked, hanging down around my face.
I tear a brush through it and then pull it up into a bun.
My beard is full of water, so I dry it with my towel then pull the comb through it.
I have some balm that I put in it, which helps maintain it instead of letting it stand in every direction.
I know I’m a bearded man who lives alone on a mountain, but I don’t want to look like a crazy loner who hasn’t seen civilization in years.
I head into the bedroom, and I pull on my boxers.
I grab my bottle of whiskey I was smart enough to bring with me, and I lie back on the bed, taking a sip and trying to figure out what I can do for a couple of hours until it’s late enough to crash.
I look over to my right and see her side of the bed, empty like it has been for ten years now, and a sharp pain shoots through my chest.
I haven’t moved any of the things that she left.
Half the closet is still full of the clothes she left behind.
She still has shoes here, personal items in the bathroom, jewelry, makeup, perfume.
It’s like she still lives here. She was amazed that her ring was still by the kitchen sink.
If she keeps looking, she’ll only be more and more astonished.
I didn’t move things, not because I was waiting for her to come back, but because I refused to move on without her.
Getting rid of her stuff would have made it real for me.
It would’ve been like admitting that things were over, and I refused to believe that.
I still refuse to believe that. When I look at her, I still feel the love I carry for her, a love that will never go away.
And when she looks at me, I think she can feel it too.
It’s just getting her to admit it, even to herself.
She’s pushed it back for so long now that it’s buried deep, and it will take a lot of digging to bring it to the surface.
I think I know just the way to do it too.
Putting the cap on the bottle, I set it on the bedside table.
The alcohol has done its job. It’s still far too early for me to go to sleep, but I’m sure I can fall asleep thanks to the booze.
I turn off the bedside light and shrink down into the blankets.
I pull them up to my chin, and a long breath leaves my lips.
My body begins to relax, and before I know it, I’m out completely.
I don’t sleep well for whatever reason. I toss and turn all night.
I wake often, and it takes forever to drift off.
I try all the usual tricks. I clear my mind of everything in hopes that boredom takes me.
Counting sheep doesn’t work either. I try thinking about what I’ll need to do around the house the following day, but none of it helps.
And most of the time, when I do manage to fall asleep, it’s so light that it doesn’t feel like I’ve been sleeping.
I finally give up around five in the morning.
Throwing the blanket off me, I go to the bathroom.
I get dressed and exit the bedroom, finding her still sound asleep on the couch.
I stop in my tracks when I find that she’s managed to kick the blanket down on one leg.
She’s only wearing a tank top and a thong, so half of her ass is showing, and my body instantly hardens.
How’s it possible her body has only gotten better over time?
I want nothing more than to walk over to the couch and smack her ass.
I bite my inner cheek and force myself to walk into the kitchen, where I start a pot of coffee.
Instead of making a full breakfast, I pour my coffee into a thermos and make a couple of pieces of toast.
I take both outside with me, having to use all of my strength to push the storm door through the snow.
The sun is bright and high in the sky, and it’s cloudless.
The storm has finally blown over. However, just because the sun is out doesn’t mean that the snow is melting or that it’s warm.
It’s still below freezing, with the high of the day only reaching twenty-four degrees.
I’m so used to working my life away that being trapped at home makes me stir-crazy.
I don’t have enough to do around here to keep myself occupied.
I sit on the porch, pour a cup of coffee, and eat my toast as I look out over the property, trying to think of something to do.
As I eat and sip my coffee, I see a few squirrels darting around in the tops of the trees.
Birds are fluttering their wings, and the deer are extremely active today as they gallop through the forest to stay warm.
So many are running through these mountains that it’s almost dangerous to drive through these winding roads when it’s this cold.
Watching the wildlife is relaxing and enjoyable, but it isn’t enough to keep me from feeling anxious, so after I finish my toast and coffee, I decide to cut up the rest of the tree from the day before, the part I didn’t get to.
I stacked the bigger pieces of wood by the porch, and they’re covered completely in snow now.
I dust the snow off and get my chainsaw from the shed.
I smile to myself when I realize how I’m right on the other side of where Alice is in there, sound asleep.
I know firing up this chainsaw will be enough to shatter whatever dream she’s having.
She’ll probably spring awake and be immediately pissed.
I pull the cord, and the loud and obnoxious chainsaw fires to life.
I rev the motor several times to warm the motor, then I go ahead and lower the bar to the hunk of wood.
The sharp saw slices through the log like a hot knife moving through butter.
I smile to myself as I cut through piece after piece, knowing that there is no way she’s sleeping through all this racket.