Lars's Forbidden Fire

Lars stood in the shower for a long time, feeling the water wash away the tension from his neck and shoulders. The cold shower wasn't helping with that, but it would, soon. He turned off the water and wrapped himself in a clean towel. Then he went to the bedroom to dress.

His wife was in bed, sound asleep. He smiled as he remembered how beautiful she looked when she was relaxed like this, her face soft and vulnerable. He couldn't remember when that had happened last. He sat down next to her on the edge of the bed and thought of everything they had shared together. How they had grown up together, gone to school together. You could say they had grown up with each other.

He brushed a strand of hair away from her face, then kissed her forehead and got up to leave the room so she could sleep. On second thought, he decided not to let her wake up alone in an empty bed. She deserved better than that. So he got back under the covers and snuggled up close behind her, wrapping one arm around her waist and nuzzling his face into her hair.

She stirred lazily, murmuring softly before finally opening her eyes and blinking at him sleepily. "Lars?" she said in surprise, turning around to face him fully so their faces were close enough for them to kiss each other's lips tenderly. "What are you doing here? Is it that late already?"

He shook his head and caressed her cheek gently with one hand while stroking her hair with the other. "No," he said softly. "I just lay down for a minute."

"That's nice," she said drowsily, leaning into him more comfortably as she closed her eyes again. A few moments passed in silence as they just enjoyed this rare moment of pure intimacy with each other. Then she opened her eyes again abruptly and looked at his face curiously. "Why do you look so sad?" she asked concernedly, tracing a line along his brow with one finger tenderly as if smoothing out any lines there might be there instead of drawing attention to them.

"I'm not sad," he assured her quickly, trying not to smile at how cute she was being right now - which made him feel even worse about what he was doing behind her back all day today! But it really couldn't be helped - if he didn't meet Marie now and then... Well, hell would freeze over first! And even then it would still keep him from seeing Marie more than once every few months or so!

He felt guilty just thinking about how much time he spent with Marie instead of being home with his wife - who needed him here so much more than Marie did! Or rather needed *him* here so much more than Marie did...

How had things gotten like this? They'd been married for almost ten years now; had known each other since childhood; thought they knew everything about each other; never dreamed there could be something between them that wouldn't grow old with them; never dreamed there could be anything between them but love... But every time he saw Marie it was like meeting someone new all over again! And every time he met Marie it felt like... Well, it felt like nothing else mattered anymore! It felt like life without seeing Marie was just waiting to die! It felt like only those stolen hours with Marie kept him alive! The rest of his life was just an obstacle keeping him from getting back to Marie!