"How many times has he done this to me now?" Olivia Richards thought to herself as she grimaced at the bitter liquid staining her lips. She looked up at the clock for the hundredth time that evening, considering whether to give up again for the fourth time that week and retire to her bed. Their bed. God only knew which bed her beloved would be sleeping in tonight. "I'll be keeping it warm for you darling" she laughed into the darkness.
Gregory Richards cursed violently as his toe collided with the edge of the bed. Running straight to the shower, he didn't even notice the frame of his wife feigning sleep in the dark, still clinging to her bottle of wine. All that Gregory was concerned with was getting rid of the smell. There seemed to be something greatly illegal about transferring the scent of another woman into their bed. Although he could not work out why, Olivia already knew of his betrayal, he was sure of it. He had wanted her so badly tonight. It was all he could do not to sprint out of the courtroom and into his car. Her photograph had to be put down flat earlier that evening. The blonde from floor seven was sent packing after she cracked the glass encasing his wife's perfect face with her cheap stiletto. God, Olivia was intoxicating, but he could never let her know. Even as he stepped out of the shower he could still sense slivers of her fragrance bouncing against the bathroom walls.
Easing himself gently into the silk sheets, Gregory sighed in a combination of guilt, pity and disappointment when he caught sight of his wife. Her hair was muddled against her pillow in a chaos of dark brown curls, her long eyelashes were covered thickly in mascara and seemed to stick to her skin, and she was still wearing her suit, although the awkward angle in which she slept allowed Gregory to admire the fullness of her right breast. It seemed he had done this countless times, as he listened for her heavy breathing before running his hand through her hair, and drawing her towards him by her waist. She smelled divine. The soft scents of almond and lavender clung to his nostrils stubbornly and sent him reeling. He drenched her in his kisses. It had become a ritual for him, always beginning and ending with the delicate skin behind her ear. He craved her tongue, and the way it massaged every corner of his mouth, sending electricity towards every inch of his body. After watching her chest rise and fall for what seemed like an eternity, Gregory leant forwards, so close his nose wrinkled at her breath, and laid a simple kiss on each eyelid. "I'm so sorry, Liv" he whispered into her forehead, before turning his back to her and closing his eyelids, he couldn't let her wake up and find him attached to her.
"Coffee, black, blueberries, no yoghurt, thank you Rose," Olivia rubbed at the throbbing pain rising from both ears. She needed at least another day in bed, staying awake in order to simply feel his touch on her skin, was taking its toll. Suddenly, the silence of the kitchen was interrupted as two blonde children burst in. "Caity, you promised that I could sit in the front with daddy today! You promised!" The teenager looked livid as she poured herself a glass of milk from the breakfast bar, "Mom! I hope you haven't forgotten! Today is the mother& daughter coffee morning at school, are you coming?" Olivia looked to her daughter, startled. "Oh, of course I hadn't forgotten Caity; it's just that Mommy has such a terrible head..." "No surprises there" Caitlin retaliated. "Forget it, I'll ask Aunt Bette." Olivia flinched as the door to her daughter's bedroom slammed shut loudly above her. "Good morning" Gregory declared as he entered the living room. "Is it?" Olivia replied, coldly. She had always thought here had been no place for his cheerfulness in the mornings. As far back as Olivia could remember, mornings were a time for subdued whispers and grouchy moods for at least the first hour of every day. But his days held promise, purpose and definition, her days held nothing but longing, misery and tears. "No Sean, Caitlin sits in the front seat, she's the eldest, and she's daddy's little princess, how many times do I have to tell you?" Olivia winced with pain at the crushed look on her only sons face, "But daddy she said she'd trade me, she promised!" "And I'm telling you Sean Richards, Caitlin sits in the front!" Gregory always had the last word, even if his argument was with a nine year old boy.
Gregory picked up his briefcase and began to make his way towards the front door, only to find that his route had been interfered with. Olivia stood in the doorway, in a silk lilac robe, still sporting last night's make-up. He felt his heart stop in his mouth as he watched her tiptoe across the marble floor towards him. She stopped, less than an inch from him, as Gregory felt himself freeze all over. "Darling" she began, her eyes were like pools of sapphires, Gregory thought, as he gazed down at her. "Are you free for lunch, today?" She was caressing his tie now, but all the time her eyes remained fixated on his. "Because, I was thinking that, you could come home and I could…" She paused for a moment to lick her lips, "I could, fix you….something nice? Something you really, really want. Please darling, it's been so long since…" Her eyes were flooding now, as the hot salty liquid spilled from them. Gregory cleared his throat, looked to the corner of the ceiling and muttered "what I really want, Olivia, is for you to sober up, and stop making me look a fool when I have to introduce a cheap alcoholic as my significant other."
Olivia Richards had been right, when she thought that her days held nothing but longing, misery and tears. She longed for Gregory in a way that a starving child would long for a morsel of bread. She lived for the nights, which would find her equally longing husband by her side, where he unwittingly made her feel like a woman again. Her misery was becoming unbearable, as her children grew up and away from her, and her only friend, alcohol, was no longer supporting her the way it had previously promised. For Olivia, the worst part of her day was the tears. She spent most of her time crying, crying over a life that she had considered over many moons ago. "You're pathetic" she screamed at the crumpled, broken woman in the mirror, "How could he love you? How could anybody ever love you?" Reaching for her vodka, a little earlier than was customary for her, Olivia brought her wedding photograph crashing down from the ornament stand. She began to laugh hysterically as the faces taunted her from the floor. "God knows why I stay with you Gregory" she said, helping herself to another swig of vodka from the silver flask, "For you, it's the fear of an empty bed." She burst into another fit of hysterical laughter as she took another swig. Longing is such an agonising process.