Avenoir

Avenoir - John

John

Oh, my fucking God. I thought I was having the most amazing dream. I was kissing Marlena. I could feel her against my skin and smell her scent, and that should have clued me in that it wasn't just a dream, but damn, I was enjoying it so much. My fingers in her hair my lips against her skin. Holy fuck, she's just perfection and I would drown in her if I was able.

But it wasn't just a dream. She was really there, and I was really kissing her. The moment I realised, I had to come up with some kind of reason, some kind of excuse as to why I was wrapped around her with my hands in her hair and my mouth seeking out hers. So, I said the first thing that came to mind. That I was dreaming of Kristen.

And as if things couldn't get anything worse, Kristen stands in the doorway, looking both suspicious and confused. I have gone from near euphoric, to embarrassed and awkward, to absurdly guilty all within a matter of about five minutes.

My protestations to Marlena, my explanation that I thought she was Kristen, was, as I said, a complete fabrication. I wouldn't, I couldn't mistake her for Kristen. Marlena, in my arms, feels like she was made to fit there. She's warm and soft, and she smells like vanilla and lilac and home. She feels like the one place where everything is safe and loving and is also filled with fire and passion.

Kristen, on the other hand, is bony and angular. When I kiss her, it feels like a performance. I be one step ahead, thinking about where I put my mouth, where I put my hands. And her response feels even more rehearsed, all full of purpose; her movements and moans all appear deliberate, all staged. I try not to dwell on it, I tell myself because she's been so fraught about the pregnancy, so scared that any stress might cause a problem, so she is resistant to me touching her because she is over-anxious.

But as a glaring juxtaposition, Marlena's touch and her kiss are simply second nature. Muscle memory she called it once. But I think it was always like that with her. From the first moment I felt her mouth on mine, it's like we knew how to move in synchronicity with each other. Our mouths, our hands, our bodies fit together like a jigsaw puzzle. We don't have to think about it. It's instinctual, it's just a waltz that we do where our bodies simply move together in time and space and create magic out of thin air.

Or at least they used to. Before I was an idiot and let her get away.

I have a truckload of regrets but losing her is the biggest. Letting her walk away with Roman-fucking-Brady, only to see him walk out on her when she couldn't be the perfect wife that he'd invoked in his tormented mind for the seven long years he spent in captivity.

If I am honest, pushing her away and keeping her at arm's length before that, is the biggest regret of my life. If I had taken her home that day she came walking out of the mist, if I had brought her back to the family and been honest with Isabella about the fact that Marlena is the love of my life, and no-one could ever hold a candle to her; maybe things would have been different. Maybe she would still be mine.

Maybe I would be happy, instead of settling for second best with Kristen.

But here I am. Newly married and a father to a day-old baby, but still desperately in love with my beautiful, kind, adorable ex-wife, and still dreaming about having her in my arms. Still dreaming about kissing her, tasting her, making love to her.

Fucking hell, how mortifying.

I slide off the side of the bed as Marlena swings her legs off her side. What are her legs doing on the bed, I wonder, but I don't have time to ponder. I have Kristen's inquisitive, downright hostile gaze to contend with.

"Sweetheart," I round the end of the bed as Marlena smooths her hair and straightens her blazer, looking at Kiristen from under heavy bangs. I have to mollify Kristen somehow. Of course she's upset, who wouldn't be, coming in to find their husband in bed with another woman? With their astonishingly gorgeous ex-wife, no less.

"I have... a little confession to make." I come to stand beside Marlena as she finds her shoes and slips them back on. Why isn't she wearing her shoes? I am so confused, but I have to deal with the Kristen situation. I take a deep breath. I feel guilty, so I say what comes to mind, because in my head, it's true. In my heart, it's true.

"I was... I was just unfaithful to you." Maybe some wouldn't call a kiss cheating, but in my heart, I wanted to kiss Marlena and, holy fuck, I wanted to do so, so much more. I want to lose myself in her, to sink into her warm wet depths. I want to breathe her in, to taste her on my fingers and to feel her hands against my naked skin. I want all that, and a million more intimate and forbidden things.

So, I can only call it what it was.

Next to me, a hearty giggle slips from Marlena, and she turns away to collect herself. I feel even more confused because if she was upset about what happened, about me kissing her, mistaking her for Kristen, surely, she wouldn't be laughing. And if she was worried about Kristen being upset about catching us together, she definitely wouldn't be laughing. If she was worried about Kristen's feelings, she certainly wouldn't make it worse by laughing. And Marlena is the most caring, thoughtful person I know. I would have expected her to be horrified by this situation, by Kristen discovering us together in an illicit, case of mistaken identity embrace. So no, I don't understand what is happening at all.

"Excuse me?" Kristen demands as Marlena turns back and smiles broadly, as she looks at me expectantly. I feel so very lost here, there is an undercurrent of something I truly don't understand, between Marlena and Kristen.... between Marlena and me....

"Well, I was ah... well Marlena came in while I was sleeping, and I was having... I was having this incredible dream about you and I... I kissed her by mistake." I wince, waiting for her explosion.

"Ooooh," Kristen looks slightly amused but thankfully and oddly she doesn't seem too upset. "That must have been very strange for you."

Marlena says nothing, just looks at me and then at Kristen and if I didn't know better, I would think there was some kind of open hostility between them.

"Anyway..." I run my fingers through my hair, straightening it. But why is it messed up? I tap my forehead as I realise how selfish I am being. "You're the one that just had the baby. You should be the one in the bed resting here. So please, why don't you do that, and I'll go and check on our son."

"Okay," Kristen smiles broadly, seemingly willing to forget my foolish indiscretion.

"Okay," I agree with her. I can't look at Marlena for fear I will betray my discomfort and my very real and very strong feelings for her.

"You do that." Kristen says and I kiss her before I head for the door. "I'll be right back," I tell her before leaving her with Marlena, hoping like hell this hasn't created any bad feelings between them.