A Winter Chill, Part 2 of 2

She awoke from a nightmare, his warm hand resting on top of her stomach, that empty place where all of her dreams would otherwise have come to pass. The agony echoed inside of her and she shuddered. In his nurturing slumber, hot loving breaths hit with fury the bare shoulder, the exposed nape of her neck. It seemed as if some subconscious, loving part of him knew how very numb she felt, deep in the inner core of all that she was.

But she was imagining. It was long known that men could never understand the pain of childbirth. It followed, then, that no man – not even one as protective and loving as this one – could ever comprehend the aching coldness created by an emptied womb. A winter chill ran through her in memory of life’s harsh truths, and she shivered from her core out to her goose-pimpled flesh. She huddled closer to his warmth, seeking his uncomprehending presence, so as to make the warmth a part of her.

Slow, salt-water streams warmed her cheeks and tucked her into a restless sleep.

This story has no comments.