Angel

ANGEL

Please&;#8230;Lay with me.

Oh why couldn't the voice have been Peters? All she had wanted him to
do of late was show her some modest amount of affection. A hand to
brush her arm, a stroke to her neck as he walked past. Anything. She
desperately needed him to rest the ache within her, which held her on
the edge of tears during these long waking hours.
Feeling the weight of the gold band she still wore, she touched it with
her thumb, moving it around on her finger. It turned easily. She'd lost
the pounds gained in those first few contented years of the marriage.
The irony of this caused the smile on her face to become genuine;
replacing the false replica of the mask she wore with a warmth that
suffused her features. Only the movement of her hands illustrated the
fear that coursed within her veins. Could she carry through her
intentions? Of course. She was going to do this, someone wanted her,
needed her, and there was so much she desired to give. And this
wouldn't be the first time.

Please...Lay with me. He called again softly on the warm evening
air.

Memories drifted back on the breeze of that moment. She recalled the
walk along an early morning road feeling her nakedness under sheltering
clothes. The soft silks brushing electric on the still warm skin. Could
people guess as they passed her? The passion she had received and
reciprocated that night still shrouded her, creating an aura that felt
as though it reached out to the people passing her by. But of course it
hadn't lasted. It was never meant to. Yet still she could remember the
feelings that had arisen, and yes, she'd gone looking for it again only
to find the shadows becoming deeper as the years went on.
In the half-light of that evening she pushed the ring further along her
finger, and trapping it with her nail, lifted it into the palm of her
left hand. With the slightest of shrugs, she slipped its weight into
her pocket. Her hand now naked, she turned towards the bed.

He drank her beauty as she turned towards him, watched the pain on her
body slide away. The tension within her had not escaped him. But he had
not expected to see it leave her so easily. The only emotion he had
been prepared for was her fear. He had never thought he would see this
easy acquiescence she was showing him now. For weeks he'd been
anticipating this final night. They'd spent days building the path to
just this moment and he was aware that the time had arrived. There
could be, would be, no more delaying what had to occur between them.
His need was consuming his strength. The nights had been spent dreaming
of the taste of her hair and his senses still held the well-known smell
of her skin. He certainly never expected her to understand the love
that he felt. In fact it didn't really matter, after all these years
this really was unconditional. There could be no redemption from the
pain he'd unthinkingly inflicted on people he'd come into contact with
or the hurt heaped upon him by others who had cast their barbs his way.
There was no call for reward in what he offered her but he had still
not thought she would show any glimmer of understanding. All the
strength that he'd possessed was as nothing to the weakness he now felt
with her. There was a light about her eyes that told him there were
still things he could learn even at this late stage. His idea had been
to show her that he knew what really mattered but at that moment he was
defeated as she reached inside his mind and let him perceive how deeply
she understood and cared.

Lowering herself slowly onto the bed she realised that this was final,
there could be no return to the world she was leaving behind. Whatever
this night brought would leave her changed and with new understandings.
The person she had been before this decision would never return to
weaken her. Peter was the past and she would forge her own future,
alone but free to search for the feelings that she now knew
existed.
She lay alongside him, unsure of how to proceed as he relaxed against
her. She felt the tentacles of his fear trapping the movement of air
between them. The realisation shocked her into movement; she could not
allow her love to be wasted again. Taking his hand she pulled his arm
across his body. With a tenderness that had matured with waiting for
the act, she kissed it.

He felt all pain leave him as she moved his arm across the cancer that
burrowed deep within his torso. No more strength remained to move his
head but he could see the blue of her uniform as she held him. It was a
dangerous thing that she was doing for him and he realised it could
cost her dearly. In the quiet of the hospice, he felt the touch of her
lips, and floating towards a final sleep, he dreamt of angels.