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“Hello, you,” I say as I draw back to kiss her on the mouth.
I intended it to be a quick kiss, but her lips are so soft and inviting that I find myself deepening the kiss. I gather her closer to me and revel in the softness of her body melting into mine. Heat spreads over me as my body reacts to her nearness. A sharp dull kick to my groin jerks me back to the present.
Cora collapses against me giggling. “Sorry, our munchkin doesn’t like it when something presses against my belly.”
“Doesn’t she know that the ‘something’ is her father?” I laugh and step back after planting a chaste kiss on Cora’s cheek. “How is she doing apart from kicking her dad?”
“Making me pee every five minutes,” Cora says.
She’s firmly in her third trimester now, with all the discomfort that comes with carrying a baby preparing to leave the oven. “If it were possible, I’d swap places with you in a heartbeat.” I tell her this almost every day.
Cora gives me her standard response. “You couldn’t hack it. You’re too soft.”
I smack her lightly on her ass as I move away. “I’ll grab a quick shower and come back down, okay?”
“Dinner will be ready by then,” Cora says.
I take the stairs two at a time and undress as I walk so that by the time I reach our room, I’m half-naked. A minute later, and I’m under hot streaming jets of water, lathering myself from head to toe.
My thoughts meander to Cora and how fast her due date is approaching. I should be excited that I’ll soon get to meet my child, but all I can think about is that they’re going to leave. I can’t imagine returning to my old way of life. The house will be so empty without Cora. But we still have time, several weeks in fact, so no point in spoiling the time we have left thinking about that. I turn off the shower, grab the towel, and dry myself.
I put on shorts and a T-shirt and sprint back downstairs. Cora has already set the table, and when she sees me, she starts to serve food onto the plates.
“I’ll do that,” I tell her and take the plates from her. “And tomorrow and the rest of the week, I’ll do the cooking.”
“Yes sir,” she says and pulls out a chair at the table. “But really, I don’t mind. I enjoy it. I have too much energy and sitting still is driving me crazy.”
“I would say that you’re nesting, but it’s too soon,” I tell her.
“Doesn’t it come in like the last week or so?”
“Thereabouts.” I bring the food to the table and sit down. My stomach growls at the sight of food. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was.
“How was work?” I ask her.
“Good,” she says. “I’ve gotten two quotes for the physiotherapy rooms, and next week, we’ll probably zero in on one and start the renovations.”
“No wasting time, huh?” I ask her in admiration. Cora has always wanted to add physiotherapy to the range of services at the gym, but it was never the right time. Being away from her beloved gym has made her want to move forward with her long-term plans.
We discuss the details of the work that will be required before they can start offering the services.
“How was your day?” Cora asks.
“Very good.” I tell her about the cases that stood out for me that day. Working at the hospital means that I always have a few of those to regal Cora.
When we were married, Tessa and I had this rule of leaving our jobs behind when we got home. We never discussed work at all, and at the time, we thought it was a good way to relax. Living with Cora, though, has made me see what we were missing. Tessa and I never got to hear about each other’s work lives. That might have been the beginning of our problems. Not talking about work meant that she didn’t know how important my work was to me, and I didn’t know how she felt about her job.
Seeing a therapist has already made me see things differently. I thought I was done with grieving for Tessa, but it seems that after finding out about her unfaithfulness, I went into grieving mode all over again. Except that this time, it was for our marriage, and it was mixed with anger. Anger I could not release because the object of it was gone. It’s just fucked up, but it’s getting better. I feel lighter, happier, less angry.
After dinner, I make Cora relax on the couch while I clean up. Then I join her, but it’s clear that she’s exhausted.
“Come on; let’s go to bed,” I tell her.
I carry a book with me. It’s only half-past eight, and I’m not an early sleeper, so as Cora snuggles up against me, I read. Her nearness has the expected effect, and my cock is soon as hard as steel, but I ignore it. Cora is at the stage of pregnancy where she’s tiring easily. She needs her rest more, and my sexual needs have to take a back seat.
