My Parent's Reconciliation Vacation (excerpt from Proverbial Woman), Part XV

“I don’t know.” She answered with a perplexed look on her face, “I think it is just something that we women enjoy. Well… at least I do. To me it feels therapeutic. It stirs me into a state of relaxation. Sometimes it could just be a moment in my day when I can assess everything that has happened, and put it all in some kind of perspective. Or maybe even a time to sit back and prepare myself for you.”

“So tell me…” he starts in, as he takes a sip from his glass, “Did that last part have anything to do with the way you used to whisper sweet nothings in my ear. Or the way that you would breathe with intensity, right before the quivering in my arms?”

“Nothings… You’re trying to get inside of my head. Aren’t you?” she asked.

“Maybe. If not your heart will do. If I’m not already there.” he added.

“Yes. Yes you are my love.” she replied with passion. “To be honest, I haven’t felt this relaxed and at ease for quite some time. It makes me feel good to hear you say these things. I’m hoping we can start back to having more moments like this.”

“Oh, I’m quite sure of that.” he added, as he slid over onto the edge of the tub.

“Here…” she gestured, as she handed him the soapy sponge.

“Are you okay? Do you need some more hot water?” he lovingly asked, while gently wringing it over her shoulders, as the glistening water cascaded down her back. 

“No, I’m fine. Everything is perfect. And thanks for asking.” She replied.

“Isn’t love a funny thing?” he questioned, as he proceeded to wash her back. “In an instant your heart is captured by its beauty and charm. And then, at the snap of a finger those feelings are turned into something that will change you forever. And then you realize, the very same emotions that once defined your happiness, has suddenly become the source of your pain.”

Quietly she sat as tears fell from her eyes. With every word piercing her soul like a sharp arrow repeatedly puncturing an inflicted womb, it felt as if he was intentionally adding insult to her self-imposed injury. Although her remorse seem more intense than earlier, deep down inside she realizes his need to be free of those feelings. After all, how could he ever get past his sorrows without first purging himself of his anguish?

Considering his efforts, for whatever method employed. My concern has always been with how could one change the course of healing when it is actually their pain that is doing the navigating. From a professional point of view, I think those who speak confidently of a speedy recovery are only deceiving themselves.

“I love you.” He softly whispered as he leaned in and kissed her on the top of her head.

“And I love you too…” she replied as she wiped the tears from her eyes.

Engrossed in their thoughts as the music flowed in from the other room, silently they sat staring off in different directions as time made its way into the early morning hours.  Still holding the sponge in his hand, out the stillness of the moment he once again reached down and dipped it into the water, before squeezing it over her shoulders.

Watching the suds as they cascaded down her back. Realizing it has been a long time since he touched the softness of her skin and smelled the fragrance of her body, he quietly whispered, “I’ve always loved the way you smelled when you climbed into bed.”

“I’m ready,” she softly murmured, as she began to stand.

“Wait…” he insisted, as he stood and reached for the towel. Taking hold of it, he quickly turned around and held it stretched out between the two of them.

“Come…” he beckoned in a soft tone, like a father calling out to his precious daughter as she stands before him shivering from the chill of roaming air. Stepping out of the water, in one graceful motion she turned until she was standing before him with her back exposed.

Poised in stance, in a loving and gentle way he then began pressing upon her shoulders, and about her neck, before sliding down around the small of her back. Gradually descending unto the chair into a seating position, he slowly began to wipe around her lower region.

“Turn around…” he murmured, as he guided her with his hands upon her waist. As she came to a stance, he then slowly reached in and wiped the exposed areas of her lower part and up and down her legs and around her ankles.

“Okay.” He whispered. Rising to his feet, as he stretched the towel out before her. Simultaneously moving, she stretched out her arms as he wrapped it around her.

“Come…let’s go sit on the bed.” He whispered with a faint smile, as he opened the door, directing her into the bedroom. As she made her way toward the bed, he slowly followed as he watched her move with the grace he once fell in love with.

“I still love watching you walk before me,” he commented as she turned and took a seat at the foot of the bed. “Oh, wait... I forgot something!” he grimaced as he turned and hurried back into the bathroom.

Within seconds he reappeared holding bottles of oils and moisturizers. With a boyish grin on his face, he quickly made his way toward her. Drawing near in a gentle approach he said, “I want to give you a massage.”

“Okay, but just my legs and feet.” She answered, adjusting the towel she wore.

“Alright. That’s fine.” he replied as he kneeled down, tossing the containers on the bed.

Placing himself on his knees before her, he gently wrapped his hand around her calf.

Without hesitation, he tenderly ran his fingers up and down along its surface. Elevating her ankle, he proceeded to lift it just high enough to where he could rest her foot upon his thigh.

“Is that comfortable enough for you?” he asked with a responsive look in his eyes.

“Yes. It feels wonderful,” she answered as she sat in awe of his unwarranted affection.

“Hmmm…” she murmured.

“What?” he asked with inquisitive look in his eyes, as he glanced up at her. “What was that all about?” he further inquired, as he began softly massaging with his fingers.

“C’mon...your hands…the way you touch me. You know how they make feel. You know most women would really appreciate a man with affectionate hands like yours.”

“What! These hands. They are just responding to what feels good to them. Besides, there is nothing like the feel of a woman’s soft skin. My wife’s that is…” he embarrassingly adds.

As he turned his attention to the task at hand, they slowly withdrew into silence. Imagining what laid ahead, her demeanor suddenly took on a weary continence.  She knows it is going to take a lot of strength from everyone to help her get through the next chapter of her life.

Before even considering getting a second opinion on her diagnosis, she knew her husband would be the one person she could count on to be by her side. His love has always come across as being unceasingly strong throughout their marriage.

“Just think…you may be doing this on regular basis,” she whispered, suddenly realizing the weight of her words.

Immediately gasping with a shortness of breath, her eyes slowly fell unto his hands as she suddenly felt a painful jolt rush through her body. Sensing his reaction as his steady movement gradually slowed to a halt, she immediately felt she’d touched on an area he was trying to avoid.

“Is everything okay?” she asked, wishing she could take back the moment.

“Yes, I’m fine.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know where that came from…it just hit me out of nowhere,” she whispered as she looked upon him with sorrow in her eyes.

“I know. I understand what you are saying. But we’re going to beat this. Together, you and I,” he replied as he looked up at her, with tears swelling within the wedge of his eyes.

“I’m afraid…” She confessed.

In a low and tender voice he murmured, “Me too.