In those few days she started to come around little by little, and I saw more of my woman as the effects of the drugs were finally losing their grip. Especially when I took her shopping for the nursery.
That seemed to be the turning point for her. It was almost as if just the act of walking into the store surrounded by baby stuff unlocked something inside her.
I’d been nervous that it might set her back, but instead it had the opposite effect. She came alive. “How big do you think they would be now?” She’d ask me questions like that every once in a while with a look of hope in her eyes and I’d shore up my resolve once again.
Though deep inside I despaired of finding our children anytime soon, for her I put on a brave front and gave her the words and reassurance she needed. To see the light in her eyes was enough.
As time went on she began to lose her reticence more and more and though we weren’t exactly back to where we once were, things were definitely looking up. Like the little touches when she walked by me in a room.
Or the way she’d call out to me from the other end of the house when I was out of her sight for too long. We spent most of our time turning one of the bedrooms upstairs into a nursery. The one we’d chosen long ago when we first had the talk about starting a family.
I hadn’t called the doctor to ask if it was okay, in fact, other than the search team and a call to my parents that first day, we’d kept outside contact to a minimum. Which meant I had yet to return Mindy’s call.
It wasn’t that I was avoiding her and that whole situation, I’m not that weak. I just chose to spend my time focused on my wife and getting her better. In my mind, as far as I was concerned, I’d said all that was needed to be said that last night. So, in the days ahead, my sole focus was on my woman, on us.
As we got back into a routine of sorts, that awkward tension started to ease off a little bit. And though the pain and fear for our missing children was still between us, and the horrors she’d endured still lingered, at least we were able to talk to each other like something more than strangers.
It was only alone in bed at night that the awkwardness returned. That’s why tonight I’m spending an inordinate amount of time in the shower berating myself for being a fucking dog.
Even with all the worry throughout the day. Once night fell and I’d done all I could that day in the search for our children, my mind always turned to one thing. Putting her beneath me.
She hadn’t made any mention of the distance between us again since that first day and at night she’d let me hold her while she slept, the way I used to.
I thought I could do it, that I could hold her in my arms again like before and give her the time I thought she needed to heal. But it was getting harder to lay there, inhaling her scent, feeling the warmth of her body next to mine and not take her.
Last night had been the worst. She’d snuggled her sweet ass into me and left me hard and hurting throughout the night. I’m pretty sure my balls went past blue to some shade of purple.
That’s why I’m now torturing myself with this cold ass shower before climbing into bed next to her. I was hoping that she’d be asleep by the time I left the bathroom.
The problem is I’m not sure about the correct protocol here. I’m torn up inside because of my children and the fact that my wife had been missing for two years. But my body doesn’t seem to know that it’s not supposed to want.
Would she hate me if I try to take her? Would she find me callous and uncaring to want sex while all of this mess was going on? Maybe she’d think I’m an uncaring asshole.
None of those things are true, far from it, but I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do here, and there is no one to ask. I’d mentioned taking her to a shrink, which she refused.
It was the first time I’d seen a glimpse of the strong willed woman I’d married since she came back to me. She was adamant that her mind had not been lost, and though she’d suffered, she was clear on the facts.
She hadn’t done anything wrong to bring this upon herself and though she still had some lingering fear, she knew it wouldn’t happen again because she’d survived.