Till Death

“Oh crap…”

I say it out loud as the water hits the old bath tub and spits in every direction.

“I hope there’s enough.”

I’m not talking about the water. Although I might be referring to the hot water, hoping it lasts for a full steaming tub. No, I mean the bubble bath.

Personally, I don’t care if there are bubbles or not; I usually spend a bath with my eyes closed, sometimes falling asleep. But that’s when the bath is for me. Tonight, this bath is for someone else. Well, mainly. But if it isn’t full of bubbles, he might not be interested, and that, as they say, would be that.

I empty the remaining bubble bath into the tub and swirl the water a little with my fingers to help the bubble making. Its scent catches my attention as I watch it engulf the wedding ring I still wear.

The temperature is perfect.

I hold the bottle under the running water until it fills and squirts out in a soapy white eruption. The sight of its warm flow over my hands makes me smile for a few seconds before I toss the empty bottle in the sink.

I dim the light. Everything feels right; His favourite opera music is playing softly, the towels are fresh, bubbles are just right and there’s even a glass of wine set out for later. I’m ready.

Almost ready.

It’s still new to me, but I don’t care now. Any fears I might have had are replaced with desperation to see him again, to own him again. The bath is just right. Everything will be fine.

I’m out of practice, having lost my husband Corey six months ago. But I guess no one would blame me. Not really. Maybe they’d tell me six months is plenty long enough. ‘You should be out there meeting people,’ they’d say. ‘Corey would want you to.’

But what the hell do they know?

What would they think if they knew?

The blanket of bubbles bounces and ripples as the water swirls underneath and I become caught up in its hypnotic rhythm. I stare silently while my mind throws flashes of memories at me. Reminders. They once ached of sadness, guilt. But now… now they bring an entirely different ache. Anticipation.

It’s almost time. He’ll be here soon.

I quickly undress, watching in the mirror as my clothes fall. I pause naked next to the tub and admire my body. ‘I worked hard for it, so why waste it?’

I step into the water, welcomed by the soft hiss of the bursting bubbles as they meet my dry skin and explode. I lie back into the wet hotness and feel it reach into every part of me, taking my weight. I settle in.

I close my eyes. I listen.

My heart’s slow pumping catches my attention, and my breathing slows. I exhale a breath, it leaves my lips as a cloud. My eyes are closed so I imagine seeing it. I wait. Nervous.

Sure enough, right on time, I feel him enter the bath at the other end. I dare not look. My eyes are stuck closed while I feel his toe creeping up my leg finding its way past my knee, my inner thigh, inching slowly towards me, stopping dangerously short. I bite my lip and whisper with a smile ‘I’ve missed you’. But he doesn’t answer, except by taking my foot and gently massaging it.

As he works his way up my leg, feeding it light kisses and slow massages, I let myself be slowly pulled towards him. My right hand on my forehead, my left grasping my breast tightly, I still keep my eyes closed. I feel him getting closer and closer. My whole body is twitching, screaming out in anticipation of that first touch. I can’t wait any longer, I’m about to scream! Then it’s there. I am joined again, I feel him throbbing in me, I have him once more.

Hot water streams down the sides of my breasts as they’re violently rocked up and down my chest with each lunge, catapulting water and bubbles in a rhythmic acknowledgement of his desperation. I’m barely aware of the cool air that kisses my skin where it rises out of the water, or the waves sent crashing to the floor.

I’m outside of time. I’m in his world now, where nothing but warm pleasure envelopes me. My guilt evaporates at that moment and for just a few glorious seconds, I can feel free. Normal. Innocent. The secrets of the past never existed here.

Then it’s over. I fall away and slip under the mess of bubbles and water before emerging with a smile, relaxed, satisfied for now, maybe even for the rest of the night, until loneliness gnaws its way back to remind me.

“Thank you Corey”, I whisper into the dim room.

But my whisper is lost in his music that still remembers the past, and the silence that moved in to replace him.

Corey never replies. He just leaves the cold bath and fades away, returning to wherever spirits might go to wait.

Until it’s time to visit again. And only if the bubbles are just right.