Many thanks to ELVA, who always leaves such lovely reviews.

The following weeks were easier for Anna and also for John. She had understood that she only had to talk to him and he had understood that he could also tell her when something made him unhappy.

John knew that his wife's behavior was not his fault. That she wasn't afraid of her husband, but because he was a man. That she was afraid of her own reactions. That she was afraid of memories. Nevertheless, doubts gnawed at him again and again as to whether he would ever be able to make her happy again. Without a doubt, without fear.

Whether they would ever lead a normal life again.

Would they ever have children?

John longed for his wife.

Even though he was really happy to just have her with him, to hold her in his arms in between, to be close to her, his body still longed for her.

He wanted to feel her.

He wanted to taste her.

He wanted to hear her.

He wanted to see her lying in front of him, her eyes closed in excitement.

He wanted to see how she enjoyed being touched by him.

And he wanted to be touched by her again. Not only on the hand or face, but everywhere.

For a long time he had been able to suppress these kinds of feelings. He had been so happy to just have her with him again. He was so happy that she had had almost no nightmares since their last conversation.

But the desire for her grew.

He had always relieved himself in the meantime, but it just wasn't the same and it seemed to him as if he was cheating on his wife.

He had experienced how his father had treated his mother, even in the bedroom. How she cried and how he talked to her or rather yelled at her. He had seen his mother look at his father. There was not this love he shared with Anna. His mother had always been afraid of his father and so had he himself.

Anna knew that he had given himself pleasure in prison and she knew that he also did it from time to time during their marriage. In the beginning, she had problems with it. Had thought she wouldn't be enough for him. But John had talked to her, explained it to her. She never seen him do it, but she knew. He never wanted to be the man who coerced his wife to satisfy him. He wanted her to give herself to him of her own free will, not out of obligation.

If he did it now, he was alone. It was secret. Anna shouldn't know. He didn't want to make her feel bad.

John's reaction to her touch changed. If he had otherwise just enjoyed her touches, enjoyed the fact that she was with him, the smallest touches now made him want her. He would never be abusive, he knew that, but his desire grew.

He began to withdraw. He had promised to talk to her if something bothered him and usually he did, but he didn't want to put her under pressure either.

But John realized that he had to talk to Anna. Even if it wouldn't change the situation, he had to talk to her. And he knew it would be a difficult conversation. For him, because he wasn't sure how best to phrase it, and for her, because she probably had a hard time bearing hearing it.

Anna noticed on the way home that there was something that was depressing her husband. She could tell by the look on his face. Since he didn't say anything himself, she decided to give him time until home, then she would talk to him.

John had tried to put the right words together in his head on the way home, but he knew that no matter how he would phrase it, they would be the wrong words.

He walked up and down in the living room. Anna stood in the doorway and looked at him uncertainly: "John, what do you want to talk about?"

He stopped abruptly, looked at her and took a deep breath: "That's not so easy."

Anna nodded: "Then I know what it's about", she went on into the living room and stopped in front of the fireplace, where the fire was spreading.

Astonished, the brunette man looked at his wife: "Really?"

Nervously, Anna played with her hands. She hadn't done that for a long time. She didn't know how to start, but she, too, had noticed that John had changed. Finally she summoned up all her courage: "I know you John Bates and I know that you used the way home to think about what you want to say because it's a topic we haven't talked about for a long time," she pressed her lips together nervously and then continued: "I see that you want more, than what we've been sharing over the past few months. And that you hold back, for my love. And it fills me with warmth to know that you still feel this way for me. I'd love to give you more, but I don't know if I can do it. What I can do. And I don't want to disappoint you either."

John smiled briefly, his Anna knew him really well, slowly he walked up to her and grabbed her hand: "You can't disappoint me Anna. Never. You are the woman I love. Nothing has changed."

The blonde woman pulled him to the small sofa. They sat down. Anna still held her husband's hand and looked at him: "Tell me what you want to do. Without thinking. Just tell me."

"I can't do that, Anna. Then you might see something in me that I'm not. Never wants to be. And I don't want you to feel harassed," John lowered his eyes.

Anna gently touched his cheek: "Look at me, John. I would never think badly of you. Tell me what you want to do."

It took John a long time to raise his eyes and look at his wife: "I would... lying in bed with you. We would be... naked. I'd kiss you. Your mouth, your throat, your chest. My hand would be in your hair, on your bosom, on your belly. I'd pet you until you're ready. Then you would wrap your legs around me and we would be one. I would look at you while you closed your eyes in excitement, and soft tones of happiness would come out of your mouth. I would continue to kiss you, say that I love you and how beautiful you are..." John broke off. Tears ran uncontrollably from his eyes. Tears also ran down Anna's cheeks. She took her husband in her arms and gently stroked his back and neck.

At some point they broke away from each other. She looked lovingly at her husband: "None of this makes you a bad person John."

"But..."

"No buts," she put her finger on his lips for a moment. Then she leaned over and kissed him. Not as cautious as usual, but a little more passionate than usual. Then she looked at him: "I can't promise you anything. Not what will work, whether anything will work and not when, but maybe it's time for me to be more courageous."

"That's what I didn't want, Anna. I don't want you to do things because I want them to."

"I kind of want to do that myself. But everything you said, I want back. I miss both of us. But I'm afraid it will end up like last time. That I can't stand it. Do you think we can try it out? Not today, but maybe on our next half day off. And if it doesn't work out..."

"Your pace Anna. Your wishes. Your needs. All the time. And only as long as you want," John looked at his wife and gently stroked her hair.