A Room in a Hotel

My heart is beating so fast that I feel jittery. I've spent 20... 21 minutes sitting at the edge of the bed trying to calm it down, but the closer the clock ticks to 20:00, the faster it goes. The time on my arm says 19:56... and 98bpm. It read 94bpm at 19:56.

Fucking smart watch. You are of no help.

Fuck...! 101bpm... 19:57

I lay down and immediately sit back up. I haven't even had a cup of coffee today. Not a choice - I've been nervous since this morning, I just forgot. In fact I hadn't drank a single thing the entire day. I haven't eaten either, maybe that's why the butterflies feel so... liberal.

I want to throw up.

I stand and walk towards the bathroom. I run the cold water in the basin and wash my face. I take a sip hoping to drown the butterflies, but I might have just fed them.

There's a knock at the door of the hotel room. 20:01. 112... 113bpm.

I grab a towel and dry my face and hands. I take a few shaky breaths as I lean over the basin. Like my heart and guts, my lungs won't fucking work properly.

The mirror shows too much - an image I've become too accustomed to seeing in the morning as I dress for work. This evening it hides behind a silk white shirt - the top button casually loose - tucked neatly into a tailored suit pants that drops down to a pair of heeled, dress shoes. A strand of hair lay out of place - a mere hint of the disheveled mess within me.

I take a deep breath, swallowing that image, and run my hands through my hair. There we go! neat and tidy. She won't see it in me tonight.

Another knock on the door, and another deep breath.

"Coming." I call out, walking away from the image I leave in the mirror... as I do every morning.

I grab the jacket from the chair and throw it over me. I straighten it out, but leave it loose. Another deep breath in and out at the door before I open it.

The sight of her feels like a whirlwind of butterflies, and I can't tell if I feel them inside or outside of my body. I will swear on all of existence, until the day I die, that I saw one fly right past my face.

What's 113 × two? If I could think I'd be able to tell you, but it feels like my heart is beating twice as fast and climbing. I might be dizzy. I feel faint, so I grip the door tighter to not fall over. How fast can a single heart beat?

My reaction clearly pleases her because she smiles. There it is! This moment right here. That smile! My feet steady beneath me and my vision comes into focus. Before, she invaded my entire vision... but now she encompasses it.

I smile back and try to get a clearer image of every detail of the woman in front of me, but I don't get the chance. In an instant, she's pressed up against me and her lips are locked against mine. War wages, and it feels like we each fight for the other's victory.

The door slams shut. Nails and teeth scratch and gnaw. Clothes are ripped off and discarded. She grips my hair, I squeeze my arms around her, she chokes her legs around my waist; all the while, our lips never surrender.

There's no foreplay. No oral. No petting. I get a second of breath as I fall back onto the bed, enough time for her to mount me and then lean over to press her lips back against mine.

The sex is - I've never used the word before, but I can't think of a more adequate one - phenomenal. Yet, it feels inadequate. It's the type of sex teenagers fantasise about and most people never have. It goes on forever and feels even longer... and yet, not long enough. The type with too many yeses, and oh, fucks! The one that drains you completely at climax, and somehow rejuvenates you straight after; where, at the end, you lay in each other’s arms and take too long to catch your breath.

Each breath I breathe matches hers, in and out - shaky, like someone in a marathon whose feet have never even touched a treadmill before. She lay half over me as I feel the heat of her body even though mine is running hot. I feel her sweat against my skin even though I'm covered in my own.

This is the woman I adore! She's exciting, insatiable, irresistible... Like the one at home used to be.

We lay together until the sweat cools and our breaths calm. I am comfortable and excited... in love. Like the early days when my wife and I first fell for each other. I have been searching for this - to feel this feeling again - for years and now, as she lay in my arms, it's coming back to me as if all it waited for was this moment.

I want to go again. I want to feel her under me, and on top of me, and all over me, all over again but I'm not as young as I once was, and she had already spent me. My friend down there is fast asleep, so I squeeze her tighter against me, kiss the top of her head, and soon, she and then I follow him to a blissfull sleep.

When I wake, she is gone. The bathroom shows signs of a warm shower. She left in no rush, but she probably didn't want to disturb me, so she let me to sleep. The message on my phone reads 'You were amazing last night. Had to leave... didn't want to wake you. I'll see you later... I love you'

My fingers hover over the keypad to reply, but I can't. My hesitation is not because I don't love her, but because I do. She can't hear how much I mean it in a text, so I blue tick her and toss the phone aside.

The warm water rushes over me and last night runs wild in my head. I replay it over and over again as I shower, as I dress, and all through the drive home. It's only as I turn into the driveway do I get pulled back into the present. I sit and wait for the garage door to open with my eyes fixated on the house. It looks so calm, so serene... so homely. Then why does it feel as though the butterflies are trying to chew their way out of me?

I park my car beside my wife's. She's home. I walk inside to the smell of coffee, so I follow it into the kitchen. A half filled coffee pot sits on a warmer. She only just got home and was anticipating me. I still don't have the stomach for the coffee, so I move into the living room.

To my right, the back door is slid open, and there she is on the back porch, leaning over the balustrade with a cup in her hand. I walk up behind her and gently put my arms around her.

"So, that's why you were up so early." She is startled for a second, and then hits my arm with a laugh as she realises it's me. I rub my nose through her hair, taking in the smell of a fresh cut and wash.

"I had an appointment. I had to come home and change."

"Hmm... you could've woken me." I say as I wrap my arms tighter around her and rest my head on her shoulder.

"You were so peaceful. You haven't been sleeping much lately, I didn't want to disturb you."

"Well, you did wear me out quite well last night." I say, kissing her neck. She turns in my arms to face me.

"You definitely brought your A game... I didn't want to be upstaged."

"A plus for you, madame. That was phenomenal."

"Phenomenal?" She asks with a smile and a cocked eyebrow. The word is strange to her too.

"Yes. Phenomenal."

"It was, wasn't it?"

I smile down at her and lean in for a kiss. It doesn't last very long, just long enough. She smiles at me and then rests her head on my chest.

"You showed up last night. You said you would, and you did. In more ways then one. Thank you for keeping your promise."

I lean back and loosen my grip around her, leaving my hands to rest on her hips. She looks up at me and I see her try to guess my thoughts as I try to probe hers. I doesn't take long for me to remember that I've never been good at reading her mind, so I ask the question, "Are we okay?"

"No..." She answers without hesitation. She was always good at knowing what was in my head. It's probably why she hasn't left me, and why she keeps fighting so hard for us. She knows that somewhere along our journey, I had only just lost my way. And then immediately, to put my mind at ease, she adds, "But, we're getting there." And then lays her head back on my chest.

My arms slip back around her and she squeezes tighter, letting me know that she will always keep fighting - that she will make sure that I never stray too far - and then gives me the condition, "Just never forget us."