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And if that isn’t bad enough, I don’t even finish.
I faked it because I didn't want to cum inside my wife. She couldn't tell and didn't even notice that I was still painfully hard. The moment I slipped out of her drying pussy, she raised her legs in the air, hoping to help my sperm reach her eggs.
I say nothing while she lays there hoping to get pregnant.
I go into the bathroom—unnoticed—and stay in there long enough until I’m positive Karina is asleep, then I slip into bed silently and hope she won’t wake up, because I don’t want to talk to her. I don’t want to hear about how we might get lucky and get pregnant even though she knows where she's at in her cycle, and I didn't finish inside her.
Even when she's not ovulating, she still can't refrain from talking about getting pregnant. For once, just fucking once, I'd like to fuck my wife without the next words out of her mouth being, "I feel like this time was it."
Don't get me wrong, I'd like for Karina to have a baby. I'd love nothing more than to see her smile and for her to be happy. I'm willing to give her almost anything she wants, but a baby is the one thing I don't think I can give her. Which doesn't make any sense. I want her to be happy and become a mother, but I don't want to be the one she has the baby with.
As stated, I'm a piece of shit.
I know losing our daughter damn near killed Karina, and I can't pretend to imagine her pain because I wasn't the one that carried a life inside of me. My wife is a fucking superhero.Womenare fucking superheroes.
I'm just tired.
So tired of disappointing her month after month and seeing the devastated look in her blue eyes when her monthly pregnancy test is negative. She thinks I don't notice her crying in the bathroom every time she starts bleeding, but I do.
In the beginning, she let me hold her when she cried. Now, she hides it from me, and I don't know why.
Karina and I had never discussed having children. Her first pregnancy was a surprise.
Again, not once did we discuss it. She never asked how I felt about it, and I never told her, because I could see how much enjoyment it brought her, knowing that we'd have a family one day. I don't believe you need children to be a family, but she thinks overwise.
We've both been through every possible exam out there to test for infertility, and not a damn thing is wrong with either of us. I have a great sperm count and outstanding motility, and she has a great egg count and quality. There's no reason for our lack of success with getting pregnant. I had hoped that moving to Seattle would change things and Karina would relax, but she's still as obsessed as she was in London.
Day by day, I feel further and further away from her. I love my wife, but the spark we once had is long gone, and it has been for a while now.
With Camille, our spark was explosive. Itisexplosive.
With her, it's always been a massive fucking bomb of fireworks every time I'm near her. The times we shared have been fucking phenomenal.
Eleven years later, and with one look at Camille, it feels as if no time has passed. I remember exactly how I felt with her, and I still feel exactly as I once did when I look at her.
With Karina, in the beginning of our relationship, our spark was like sparklers. You know, the sparklers that you light on the Fourth of July. Nothing spectacular, but at least it's something that'll bring a smile to your face.
Our connection has always been sparklers, while my connection with Camille has always been the whole damn fucking firework show. The show you wait all night to see.
The fact I'm even comparing the two makes me an even bigger asshole. But am I more of an asshole for thinking of another woman or for staying married to a woman who I'm only content with? Who I've always only been just content with?
By staying with Karina, I'm preventing her from meeting her perfect soulmate and having the family she dreams of one day. We have been drifting apart for years, and instead of ending things like we need to, Karina continues to believe a child will repair our relationship.
It won’t, and I know that, but she desperately wants to be a mother. She’d make a great one, so I’ve participated in her fantasy, all while being unhappy and hoping that her monthly pregnancy test will be negative. Hoping I can stop being a coward and ask for a divorce.
I'm not a religious man, but I like to think that we've been unsuccessful with having a baby because God knows we're not meant to be parents and is waiting for Karina to meet her person.
A person who I know isn't me.
The logical thing to do would be to ask for a divorce, but I'm a selfish bastard.
These thoughts stay on my mind throughout the night and into the following morning.
The sun is beginning to rise. I love mornings. I love the warmth of the sun on my skin and the color it paints a room as it rises.
Closing my eyes for the first time all night, I roll over onto my side and wrap my arms around my wife's sleeping body. She stirs slightly before turning on her back and exhaling deeply, signifying that she's awake.
My eyes open and land on her blue eyes staring back at me.
