Chapter 1. The conjugal bed.

A white corridor. An immense whiteness. Yet I could still make out the lines that defined its shapes. I was waiting for someone. I looked toward a familiar destination ahead of me, though it was far from clear. Somehow, everything narrowed, like a tunnel. A bride. She was walking toward me. Maria. Her dark hair is what convinces me that it is her. And perhaps a memory from our wedding day. That wedding dress. Otherwise, nothing is clear. The whiteness washes away the details. She is laughing. It's her. That natural, self-assured laugh. Other voices can be heard, but no one else is visible. A man. He tells her that we need to go inside. That the cake has arrived. Noise. Everything has already changed. Now I am standing in front of the cake. It is a small cake. Nothing like the multi-tiered one from our wedding. This one is small and colorful. I hear her behind me. She tells me that she has torn her dress. I turn around. She is crying.   @font-face {font-family:"Cambria Math"; panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:1; mso-generic-font-family:roman; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:0 0 0 0 0 0;}@font-face {font-family:Calibri; panose-1:2 15 5 2 2 2 4 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:swiss; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:-469750017 -1073732485 9 0 511 0;}p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-unhide:no; mso-style-qformat:yes; mso-style-parent:""; margin-top:0cm; margin-right:0cm; margin-bottom:10.0pt; margin-left:0cm; line-height:115%; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}p.isselectedend, li.isselectedend, div.isselectedend {mso-style-name:isselectedend; mso-style-unhide:no; mso-margin-top-alt:auto; margin-right:0cm; mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; margin-left:0cm; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";}.MsoChpDefault {mso-style-type:export-only; mso-default-props:yes; font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}.MsoPapDefault {mso-style-type:export-only; margin-bottom:10.0pt; line-height:115%;}div.WordSection1 {page:WordSection1;}

I lift my head. I was dreaming. I can still hear her. I do not know whether she is crying, but it is something. A soft moan.Yes, Cătălin! I begin to understand what has happened. I fell asleep late last night. Cătălin had not arrived. I could clearly sense Maria's frustration that he had not given her any sign of life. I do not open my eyes. I listen. It is pleasant. To hear the moans. Both of them are being quiet, careful not to wake me. I can feel the rhythm. Maria's hand rests on my face. It is damp. It carries the scent of their union, of arousal.

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She knows I am not asleep. Because a finger slipped between my dry lips. I opened my eyes. The taste of her flesh made me want to see. She is facing me. She looks at me with a distant gaze. That is how I recognize her pleasure. She is living the moment completely. He is behind her. His hands are holding her breasts. The moment she meets my eyes, she lets herself go completely. Maria wraps both arms around me, as if helping the assault continue. I tell her, "I love you." Imagining that somehow this will intensify her pleasure. Her orgasms always make her cry. Warm tears. What explanation could there be for such a reaction? To cry from happiness. It is an emotional release. If her response is sweet, his climax is almost amusing. He moans in a strange way, almost feminine. Maria looked directly into my eyes while he writhed within her. For a moment, I almost understood the physical, psychological, and emotional dimensions of what was happening. My wife, marked by Cătălin. Blessed by the seed of a virile stallion. In those seconds, when our eyes met, we shared the same feeling of possession. She had both of us. With her, harmonizing their union. And me, the witness to the insemination of my bride's body.

            I loved her. In a way that few people are capable of loving. It was something so sacred that sensuality, perversity, and carnal pleasure transformed love into a cosmic feeling. My woman, happy in his arms. All the sharp pain dissolved into irreproducible waves of ecstasy. Maria and I were a single being. We loved each other, and we loved him. She turned toward me, offering her flushed body and inviting me to take part. I was not like him—virile and always eager for the struggle. But I had my own needs as well. I lowered myself to where he had poured out the essence of his masculinity. The traces of their passion were enticing. The sin had to be erased. And I, the betrayed husband, seemed the most suitable person to do it. The taste, the scent, the lingering warmth of what had happened reminded me of a dog in heat catching the scent of a mate. I filled myself with the feeling of being a servant devoted to his queen. The Queen, I believe, was engaged in the same ritual, because I could see her dark hair falling across his abdomen. Both of us were tasting the honey of love. We were exactly where it felt natural for us to be. Connected by the need to surrender ourselves. We belonged to him. He had given us the opportunity to appreciate his worth. And he was receiving his reward.   @font-face {font-family:"Cambria Math"; panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:1; mso-generic-font-family:roman; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:0 0 0 0 0 0;}@font-face {font-family:Calibri; panose-1:2 15 5 2 2 2 4 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:swiss; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:-469750017 -1073732485 9 0 511 0;}p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-unhide:no; mso-style-qformat:yes; mso-style-parent:""; margin-top:0cm; margin-right:0cm; margin-bottom:10.0pt; margin-left:0cm; line-height:115%; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}p.isselectedend, li.isselectedend, div.isselectedend {mso-style-name:isselectedend; mso-style-unhide:no; mso-margin-top-alt:auto; margin-right:0cm; mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; margin-left:0cm; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";}.MsoChpDefault {mso-style-type:export-only; mso-default-props:yes; font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}.MsoPapDefault {mso-style-type:export-only; margin-bottom:10.0pt; line-height:115%;}div.WordSection1 {page:WordSection1;}

Naked, they smiled with quiet satisfaction. I was the one who had to make the coffee. "Cătălin, what time did you arrive last night?" I think I should not have asked. No one answered me.

My bride, I love you!