Dear Hubby; Love Is No Longer Enough

I fell back onto the mattress, my body filled with sweet and completely limp with pleasure. Spasms of my just happened powerful release still violently shook my slender body. Deca had released me, and distanced himself from me within seconds of our mutual orgasm and lay on his back beside me, his breathing was heavy and ragged too.

I limply stood up and turned looking at the bed I'd shared with my husband for three years now but looking back I realized it was me who had forced him into this situation and whatever was happening was all because of me.

I lovingly traced his harsh profile with my eyes, yearning to touch and caress my own husband's smooth, silky and warm skin but knowing from experience that my touch would be mocked or ignored I couldn't act.

My husband was always cold towards me not like his warm smiles he wears everytime he's interviewed about his successes in business. But that was just it, his warm smiles was for others and it was never meant for me. I was about to head out of the room when his voice broke in the room making me halt my weak steps.

"Give me a child, Rimmy..."

With those words, he had successfully killed the afterglow, of sex or lovemaking that we were both still clinging on or maybe let's say he had destroyed the intimacy between us and had now turned the entire action into breeding. After three years of listening to him say these words just after our intimacy session, I'd become accustomed to him, I wondered why this time it hit me pretty plainly maybe it was because my husband was leaving early in the morning for a business trip and I knew who my living hell he'll meet with in those social events, he'll dance with her, he'll be in media articles and online searches, I had openly taken him away from the love of his life but now I am regretting it.

I had finally realized that it would never change. It wasn't an abrupt realization, rather it was one that had been growing steadily since the very first time he'd said he only wanted a child with me, it didn't occur just after our marriage it happened six months into marriage when I miscarried and never told him. I knew he knew and he'd hated me even more for that.

He'd hated the fact that I'd trapped him into a marriage but his hate had multiplied the day I lost the child. Just like me I knew he grieved on his own way. He never asked me but he showed in actions on how I couldn't even do one thing right and that was to give him a child.

But today I had my own five words! They were words that had been on the tip of my tongue for months and should have been spoken long before now. They were words that I could no longer swallow back; no matter how much it killed me to say them. I turned back to him, naked, my body still trembling and I drew my arms to my chest. I sat on the single rocking chair near the fireplace my lips parting in close breath before closing again. I watched as his breathing steadied, his own shaking had already ended, maybe that's how he'd found the courage to ask me for the child, he normally ask me to give him a child before releasing inside me. He lay spread-eagled, on the bed showing all of his magnificent nude body, his eyes were shut but I knew he wasn't asleep. No, he would take a few moments to compose himself before heading for the shower, where I always imagined him frantically scrubbing my scent and touch from his skin.

I could no longer contain the words and they spilled from my lips with desperate earnestness.

"I want a divorce, Déca."

He tensed, every single muscle in his body went as tight as a coiled spring, before he turned his head to meet my watchful gaze. His eyes were hooded and his upper lip curled mockingly.

"But I thought you loved me, Rimmy," he taunted with exquisite cruelty and I lowered my eyelids, trying to mask the pain of his words. When I was sure I had my emotions under control, I once again lifted my eyes to his dark gaze.

"Not anymore," I managed saying those words, hoping the lie sounded convincing.

"Hmmm..." it sounded deceptively like the purr of a cat. "What happened to 'I'll love you forever, Dec'?"

"Things change," I whispered.

"What things?" He rolled onto his side and propped himself up onto his elbow, resting his head on his hand. He looked so much like a greek or Roman god in repose, that my throat went dry with desire. I swallowed painfully.

"Fel...feelings change..." I stuttered haltingly. Again that husky purr of agreement but I wasn't fooled by his relaxed posture; he was as tense as a coiled snake. "I.I've changed..."

"You look no different," he said looking at me from toe to head, his voice was still terrifyingly tender. "Still the same Rimmy I married. The one who claimed to love me so much, she couldn't live without me. The one who desperately destroyed my marriage at the alter and whose daddy made sure she got exactly what she wanted..."

And that was when he struck me bluntly, without moving, without so much as changing his voice.

"The same timid little Rimmy, who can't even give me the only thing I've ever wanted from this pathetic excuse for a marriage." I flinched but I refused to divert my eyes.

"All the more reason for a divorce," I tried for blase but failed miserably.

"Maybe for you," he shrugged elegantly. "But I told you from the very beginning, Rimmy, there would be no easy way out of this marriage. Not until I got what I wanted from you and that day looks to be a long way off! Unfortunately, cliche though it may seem, you've made this bed and we both have to lie in it!"

"I can't live like this anymore," I buried my face in my knees and fought to keep the tears at bay.

"Neither of us has much choice..." he sat up and stretched languidly before getting up and walking, naked, to the en-suite bathroom. I heard the shower start moments later and took a few seconds to compose myself, swiping the hot tears from my face with the backs of both hands before dragging on a gauzy peignoir and heading toward the kitchen to make myself a hot drink. While I was sitting on a bar stool, sipping my hot milk, I felt Deca's presence behind me and the hairs in the nape of my neck stood on end.

"You must be cold in only that skimpy little thing you're wearing..." he observed idly heading to the fridge and dragging out a carton of orange juice. His short black hair was damp and standing up in tufts where he had carelessly towel-dried it after his shower and he wore nothing but a pair of black boxer shorts. He looked as gorgeous as always and I hated him more than ever for that masculine perfection.

"I'm fine..." I got up abruptly and headed toward the sink to rinse my mug but he grabbed my elbow to halt my movement. I tensed, shocked by his sudden touch... Deca never touched me outside of the bedroom. In the thirty-six months we had been married, this was the first time that I could recall him touching me without it being a sign to sex. He leaned closer to me and lowered his lips to my ear. I felt his hot breath on the side of my face before he spoke.

"There'll be no more talk of divorce, Rimmy... ever," he told me with a sickening air of finality.

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