The Affair

Chapter 13

I'm sitting up in bed, trying to slow my breathing, and am drenched in sweat. Flashes of both Francesca and my father are both fresh and fading, the dream I had dissipating quickly, but leaving behind a sick feeling in my stomach.

"Benjamin? Are you okay?"

It's a soft, slow, sleepy murmur into the silent darkness of my bedroom. She's touching my back, pressing her lips to my shoulder, stroking my skin with her hands. This simple chain of actions puts me at ease whether she knows it or not.

"Hm? Are you okay?"

"Yes," I whisper. "Just a nightmare."

"Come here."

I lie back down in her arms, where she holds me close. The thought of making love occurs to me, but I'm slipping away slowly, feeling her heart beat against her chest. It soothes me back to sleep, calms me, comforts me...

...

I'm wrapped up in her, intertwined, holding her close to my chest beneath the comforter. My flat is very cold, but she's so warm. I'm hungover and my head is throbbing lowly, I feel dehydrated, and exhausted. But she's still asleep and I don't want to move or wake her up. The dream I awoke from in the middle of the night feels like a distant memory.

I keep thinking of her in terms of a single word: home.

She's truly like a home to me. I've never had a home, so I don't know what it feels like. But this must be it. It's so pure and it feels so right.

Could I be with her all the time? Is that something that I could do? The thought of her being with anyone else, even Hugh, is difficult for me to think about. I've never made a commitment to anyone before. I've never wanted to until now.

I quickly remind myself this is an affair. I'm too jealous, too old, too different from her for this to last. She wants children someday. I couldn't do that, I don't want them, I never will. She won't get that from Hugh, either, so who will she end up with?

This is what it is and I need to remember that. We can have fun in the meantime, even if the word fun makes this whole thing feel cheap.

She stirs against me, I watch and wait for her eyes to open, and we smile at one another.

"Good morning, darling."

Her response is to snuggle into me.

"Come to Italy with me."

She glances up at me before burying her face against my chest again.

"Italy? What's in Italy?"

I smile at the sound of her sleepy voice. I love when it sounds like that. It's deeper than usual, just the slightest bit, and I adore it. Hearing it means she's spent the night with me instead of Hugh. Or we've napped after our lovemaking in the afternoon, which is rare.

"I have a place there. Right on the water. Very private. We can fuck on the balcony and swim naked in the ocean."

She laughs softly.

"Do you swim naked there?"

"I do."

"I can't see you doing that and as wonderful as that sounds, you know I can't. I shouldn't even be here right now."

"I suppose," I mutter. "It's really quite beautiful there. Think about it. That's the good thing about having a husband who trusts you. He doesn't question the things you do."

"Poor Hugh," she says quietly.

I roll my eyes.

"Poor Hugh," I repeat sarcastically. "It works in my favor. It works for us. Makes it easy for me to see you."