What Once I Was

Chapter 9

We thought the dust had settled, that our lives would resume much like they had the first time we'd buried Naomi. We'd heard nothing further from the police and so we had started to let our guards down, just a little. Though he tried to keep it hidden from me, I knew Robert was also looking daily at newspapers to find any snippet of information about the body that had been found. To see if there was any indication that police might be scouring for further evidence, for other children who might also have perished in the nearby area. I knew he too prayed that this time Naomi could stay where she was.

A week had passed as any other. Robert continued to work hard. I continued my shifts at the library. Thoughts of Naomi and Twin B were few and far between. Neither Robert or I spoke of that night. In fact, we hardly spoke at all. He would return from work around midnight, head straight upstairs, shower and escape to bed without so much as looking my way. I would spend the evenings wrapped in a throw, binging whatever shows were on, pretending my marriage wasn't hitting the rocks. 

I'd hoped our rare day off together might bring us closer. That we'd communicate and do something, anything as a couple. Crosses on the calendar filled me with a bubbling excitement as time moved closer and closer. Robert hadn't made any announcement of plans, so I was hopeful he would be home for the entire day. 

I'd browsed the internet for local events that we might enjoy but came up empty handed. With May peeking its head from the dirt, bringing with it drier and warmer weather, I thought a picnic might be a nice change from huddling at the table with a cheese and cucumber sandwich. We had loved picnics when we first started dating. Robert would go above and beyond each time, bringing chocolate coated strawberries, freshly made jam, still warm scones from our local bakery and apple juice. My favourite things. We would lay back and watch the clouds roll by, pretending we were in a movie as we guessed what shapes they made. It was the best time of our lives. 

It was the last day of April. Robert and I lay in bed, an infinite space between us. I wanted to reach my hand out, to run my fingers down his back. I found myself staring at the little mole near his left shoulder, the scar to the right of it that he'd got on our third date. We'd gone for a bicycle ride, he and I both loved being outdoors when we were younger. In a bid to impress, he had attempted to perform a trick he'd seen someone else do days prior. It went terribly wrong. The sound of the breath leaving his body as his back smacked into the dirt and rubble still sent chills through me.

I fought the urge to move closer, to lay my arms around him and to just hold him. I couldn't tell you the last time he and I were intimate. A born again virgin my friend, one of the few I still had since Naomi, had joked. I'd laughed alongside her, knowing she'd meant no malice, but the sting was there all the same. After that, I had promised myself I would never discuss any marital problems Robert and I were having to anyone else. I had been after support, advice even, not to be the brunt of a joke. 

"Robert?"

The bed shifted and groaned beneath him. The space between us became shallower. Flurries of hope filled my chest. You can do this. Be strong. Just tell him what you want. 

"Yes?" His voice was gruff, filled with exhaustion.

"I want you to touch me," I swallowed back the shame that laced my begging. "It's been too long. I need you."

The bed groaned again. Propped on his elbows Robert looked at me. The soft golden glow of our bedside lamps illuminated his face. His hair, speckled with grey, needed a haircut and his beard had become unruly. His face deeply lined and eyes dimmer than when we'd first met. And yet, despite the wrath of time, he could still rip the breath from my lungs.

"Come here woman."

I did as I was told, heat rising to my face. His lips moved closer and closer to my own. The intoxicating smell of sage and juniper caressed my nostrils, causing my heart to skip a beat. His lips finally brushed over mine. Warmth swept over me, my body reacting on long forgotten instincts. My toes curled, stomach in knots. He entered like a peppermint wave, back and forth, back and forth against my tongue. The taste of him, I needed more.

Before I knew what I was doing, my hands were under his pyjama top, fingers curled in his chest hair. The raw emotion as his hands folded around my own, pulling me closer into the kiss, broke something inside me. I groaned his name, the apex of my thighs pulsating, screaming to be caressed. I could feel him against my stomach. A monster waiting to be unleashed.

I tugged at the hem of his shirt, wanting more, needing more. An inhumane hunger desperate to be quenched. In one unspoken, seamless movement Robert's bare torso, speckled brown from the hair my hands loved to embrace, stood proud. My mouth dried, heart in my throat.

His eyes burned, mouth parted and swollen. The sound of his breath hitching as I kneeled, breasts hanging and alert for him, sent a bolt of electricity through my core. His tongue traced my neck, my nipples, my abdomen. Each gentle touch eliciting goosebumps.

With his breath against the centre of my thighs, I twitched desperate for more. He teased my bud, kissing and licking until my knees buckled and a guttural cry escaped.

"Oh baby." His voice was hoarse.

We called out together as he entered. Our bodies moved like planets whose gravitational pull kept them aligned. Each pump, each slap of flesh against flesh, earning primal moans I'd forgotten I could make. A fire burned, climax building. I was close. I was so damn close. For the first time in years, I was going to explode into paradise.

Robert groaned above me, stilling. I dared to peek through my lashes. His face was taunt, eyes rolled. Disappointment rolled down my thigh.

Whether he rolled away from me, or I pushed him, I'm unsure. Neither of us spoke. Robert lay, with his back once more turned towards me, panting. Sweat dripped down his spine, his hair plastered to his scalp.

Pulling the duvet to my chin with tears stinging my eyes, I turned. My hand covered my still pulsing lips, silencing the sobs that poured. I wanted to feel loved; to feel beautiful and needed. To feel the intimacy I had been neglected.

Rain pattered against the window the next morning, coursing the hopes of a picnic down the drain. Robert walked with a spring in his step, humming softly along with the radio as I prepared our breakfast. Despite still feeling let down, I had made pancakes with a variety of toppings, something Robert and I had done every weekend before I fell pregnant with Naomi. Strawberries, thinly sliced, whipped cream, melted chocolate, bananas all adorned the table. I tutted, swatting at Robert's hand as he popped a banana slice into his mouth. We ate in near silence, Adele's voice filling the void.

I was washing up the dishes when the phone rang. I'd run out of the kitchen, shouting to Robert that I would grab it. My stomach knotted. She'd never rung while Robert was home, yet I still worried he'd find out what I'd done. That all my lies would rip the ground from beneath me.

"Hello. Mrs Collins speaking how can I help you?"

"Please let me explain," I held one hand over the other trying to steady myself. "Can we please meet. I just want to get to know my parents."

I said nothing, just placed the phone down and began to walk away grateful it had been me who had answered.

"Who was it?" Robert called from the armchair. His head didn't turn away from the game show he was watching.

"Just one of those spam insurance calls." I lied, yet again. Another string added to the dangerously thin web I'd already created.

"I told you we should get rid of the blasted thing." He called back.

Though I loved having a landline, I had started to consider his words. I wish I'd gotten rid of the thing sooner. If I hadn't left it, hadn't hoped that she'd leave us alone finally. Robert would never have answered when I wasn't there. He would never have gone to confront her.

If I had just got rid of the problem properly, he would still be with me, not in some shabby hotel room with the promise of a divorce pushed under our doormat.