Her Longing & His Loneliness by L Grace G

Our marriage counselor asked, “So, what happened that night?”

I thought back, remembering how our boys were tucked neatly in bed, nestled up under in their warm covers…

I returned to the kitchen to do the dishes, and paused in the entrance. 

There he was, standing at the sink. Arms plunged elbow deep in soapy water. My lips fell open ever so slightly and no words came out. I found myself studying him as though I was seeing him for the first time. The dark curls atop his head tumbled gently into that neatly trimmed hair… and the line of his haircut drew my eyes down the beautiful curve of his neck to the place where his smooth dark skin disappeared behind his crisply ironed collar. I inhaled, long and deep, as though breathing him in from a distance. Citrusy dish soap, clean laundry. Fresh. I imagined his scents as I measured the width of his shoulders with my gaze, noting how the un-giving white cotton of his button-down shirt strained. So broad. I exhaled heavily and yearning rushed into the unfilled space within me. He lifted a bubble-covered hand to the tap and powerfully wrapped his long elegant fingers around the lever. One strong pull released a noisy spray of water.  Desire drew me to him.  I wanted to press my body against his. To feel his lips on mine. His hands on my hips… I glided in behind him while he held a soapy stem-glass under the stream of fresh water.  His fitted Levi’s showed off the full effect that biking to work had had on his lower body –and I took it all in. His butt. His thighs. His calves.  I stepped closer. Now I could really smell him. Pine Forest. And when he released the carefully positioned glass in the drying rack, it was my cue. I gently slid my arms around his narrow waist.

“AHHHH!” He flinched, recoiled and turned to glare at me. Brows furrowed, nose wrinkled, lips curled, his handsome features contorted into ugliness as he rejected my touch. 

I shrank back, eyes lowered, head bent and retreated. Closing our bedroom door quietly behind me, I quickly readied myself for bed, turned out the light, buried my face in the pillow… and cried.

When he opened the door and asked, “Are you going to bed already?”

I controlled my voice enough to say, “Yes” into the pillow and he closed the door, leaving me alone in the darkness to cry with a dismissive, “Bonne nuit alors” to which I did not reply, “good night to you too.”

My husband answered our counselor. “Well, I was exhausted from a long day of teaching. We’d just finished eating.” 

He looked at me and added, “It was a delicious meal.”

Then he directed his speech back at the counselor, his accent unusually heavy, “But…” there was a pause, “…she must have dirtied everything in the kitchen to make it. The counter by the sink was piled high with mixing bowls, those American measuring cup things, whisks and spatulas… it was a mess…”

His voice trailed off and he seemed to reflect for a moment, “It was already dark outside. It seemed later than it was. We’d just set the clocks back for daylights savings. She’d left me alone at the table while she went off to bathe the boys and get them ready for bed, so it was around… eight?”

He looked at me and raised his eyebrows. I shrugged and he turned back to the counselor, “I knew she was going to leave the mess until morning, so I filled the sink with soapy water and cleared the table. It was the last thing I wanted to do but she just didn’t seem to be able to keep up with the kids and the housework –and I was tired of always making my coffee and toast amidst dirty dishes.”

He made eye contact with me, “She was tired all the time too.”

Then to no one in particular he muttered, “We were both tired.” 

Suddenly grimacing, he growled at the counselor, “Then, while I’m doing the dishes, she sneaks up behind me and tickles me!” He shot glowering eyes in my direction and keeping those burning eyes locked on mine he finished, “And she doesn’t even say ‘Good Night’ just goes off to bed!”

The marriage counselor’s gaze turned to me.

L Grace G is a French-American dual citizen. She possesses two Masters Degrees: one in International Studies and one in Anthropology thanks to studies in the United States, France, Japan, and the African country of Swaziland.