I can feel myself breathing; chest rising and falling with those long breaths you feel as your body slows and prepares you for sleep. I cannot sleep here, I know that. I have to return, but for now I simply stay fighting the need, and want, to shut my eyes for the remainder of this night and wake as the morning light filters through to me.
I can feel him breathing too as my arm that is draped casually over him lifts with each breathe. I know his eyes are closed but he is not asleep either; I am sure of it. I do not want to say anything as there is simply no need.
The wind is rustling the closed curtain. Billowing I can see its outline in the darkness of the room as the night goes about its way around us. The curtain stills for a moment and silence surrounds me again, the roar of the day having dissipated long ago, sounds scattered the moment I stepped into this room with his hand in mine.
I know I have indulged myself. My choice was also the finality of the tolerance that he has shown towards me, the restraint that he has been so patient in keeping. A choice, for the first time in my life I freely made and I rejoice in that. No questions, no guilt, no fear of retribution for taking a chance and being loved. My penance may be his child, if it were a punishment to be so blessed.
Who would castigate me now I am here?
Nobody, for I will be his wife.