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?“Anything will do, really.”
?Mark finished tucking the sheet in, rose, and walked over to the closet. He hesitated for a moment, and then yanked it open.
?Mark quickly reached in and extracted a cotton nightgown that looked warm enough but not too hot. As he pulled it off the hanger, tears stung his eyes.
?“Mark?” I worried.
?“I—I’m okay,” he blurted out, and handed me the garment. “Excuse me.”
?He ran into the bedroom and slammed the door. I held the garment, and then caught a whiff of perfume. It must have been his wife’s perfume. Now tears were in my eyes. That must have been so hard, to catch the fragrance of the person you loved and lost. I suddenly felt like an invader who had come in and desecrated something special.
?I stepped into the guest bedroom, and fighting back my own tears, quickly undressed and put on the nightgown. I was soon covered and looking quite proper, though the full-length nightgown only went just past my knees.
?I softly rapped on Mark’s bedroom door.
?“Mark,” I spoke gently. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
?The door opened and Mark was staring at the floor, the doorknob in his hand. “It’s all right. I just—”
?He looked at me and his mouth fell open, as if I was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
?And there it was, that stare of his that made me feel like he was touching, caressing, and loving me all at once. My knees went weak from his intense gaze.
?“That was a floor-length nightshirt on Susie,” he croaked, overcome with emotion and, could it be, lust?
?“You okay?” I babbled, surprised at what I felt. I wanted him to take me in his arms, undress, and make love to me. It was all so immediate and powerful I could barely contain myself.
?“Yeah,” he said with a stoic look.
?I reached up and touched his face gently, and in that moment I wanted to be swept away. I was overcome with desire in a way I’d never known until this moment.
?“Get some rest,” he implored and pushed the door closed. I stood there stunned. Didn’t he pick up on my signals or my pheromones or something? Then I made a realization and was disgusted with myself. I had wanted Mark to make love in the very bed he and his wife had shared for all those years.
?How could I? What was wrong with me?
?I trudged wearily back to the guest room, equally aroused and disgusted with myself at the same time. My nipples were erect and rubbing against the fabric of the nightgown, which made matters worse.
?I should have said something, asked something, told him of my desires, told him of my needs.
?Instead I got into that single bed and lay there still ablaze and without any way to relieve the tension. What if I went to him and begged him to make love to me?
?No, he would lose the respect that we both had worked so hard to gain.
?I lay there worrying about it, with scenarios running through my head, until I grew so weary that sleep finally came.
15. Escalation Clause
Mark Watkins
??Susie and I were sitting at our dining room table having breakfast. She wore that white turban she always wore after she lost her hair. Even so, we laughed and made foolish jokes only the two of us would understand.
?She looked at me very seriously and said, “I don’t want you to be alone, Mark.”
??“I won’t be,” I told her jauntily. “Look, you’re home and everything will be fine. I am sure you’re in remission.”
?“Sweetheart,” Susie said and took my hand. “If the roles were reversed and you were dying—”
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