It's 6pm, Rob will be home any minute. I've lit candles and cooked his favourite dinner, steak and chips, which is in the oven waiting for his imminent arrival. I've showered, shaved my legs and slipped on a pretty dress and am dancing around the kitchen to the radio, making sure nothing burns while I listen out for his car in the driveway. I used to get irritated with his insistence that we have sex every other Friday night, as though it took the spontaneity and romance out of it all, but, after eleven years and increasingly busy work schedules, it actually helps to make sure we make time for one another. Sure I miss the rip your clothes off in the hallway passion I had with my first love, Thomas, but we were teenagers, you can't expect that at thirty-three years old, not when you've seen each other crapping and knackered after a long week at work, can you? Can you? Tyres crunch in the driveway, so I bring the plates to the table and pour us both a glass of wine. He sighs and
Huling Na-update : 2021-09-04
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