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Once more she smoothed down her skirt while her chocolate brown orbs rested on the man she loved. He looked incredible on stage, his denim shirt hugging his strong, muscular chest, his dark, brown curls emphasising his recently acquired tan.
The words he read fell from his lips like they had always wanted to be his own and the passion with which he delivered Chris’s need to be with Besse, to warm her, to surround her and love her, to be kind to her, filled her with warmth all the way from her head to her toes.
Her eyes rested on his curved lips, on his gentle, kissable lips and she almost forgot she was amidst an audience so big was her desire to walk up on stage and kiss him then and there.
Charlene bit her lip as his eyes met hers for the briefest of moments and, fiddling with her clutch in her lap, she crossed her legs to try to resist the desire of having him touch her like she knew only he could.
Laughter rippled through the crowd every now and then and the description of Chris’s arrival back in England and his struggle to contact his lover reminded Charlene of their own occasional struggle to find back to each other. More than once Benedict had arrived back in London in the middle of the night and even though she had waited for him, had tried to stay awake to meet him at the door when he came home, not seldomly had he found her fast asleep on the sofa when the tiring day with their baby boy had eventually taken its toll.
A sad smile crept onto her lips as her husband’s next words.
“You have to be abroad. You have to be hermetically sealed off from your intimates, from your home to realise what a gift this going home is.”
Even though he had tried to reduce his commitments abroad since they had found out about her pregnancy, since their wedding, since the birth of their son, he was still gone too often for her taste. Be he knew that. And he tried to take her with him as often as his schedule allowed. It wasn’t easy for Benedict either.
As he read the last words of the first letter, Charlene had to wipe a single tear off her cheek. Even though she knew better, the ‘I love you’ felt like it was not Chris speaking but Benedict and she realised once more how thankful she could be to have such a wonderful man, such a wonderful husband and father, by her side.
***
Almost a little shyly Charlene entered the backstage area and, thanking the security guard who had brought here there, she looked around for her husband. Benedict stood a few metres away, still in deep conversation with Louise and the host of today’s event and she felt unsure about disturbing him. It was Lou who finally nudged him and pointed towards his wife.
Benedict’s face lit up when he saw her and after excusing himself, he quickly crossed the few metres between them.
“Hey,” he whispered, his large hands enveloping her waist.
“Hey,” Charlene whispered back, feeling herself blush under his tender gaze.
For the briefest of moments silence settled between them and through their eyes they exchanged all those words that could not be spoken, that did not need to be spoken because one look said it all.
Slowly, her hand roamed up his broad chest and along the column of his neck until she could bury her slender fingers in his soft, smooth curls. His hands travelled up her waist, the silky fabric of her blouse warm under his touch as he went to trace her back and the gentle curve of her spine under his fingertips.
He had goosebumps all over as Charlene pressed her body against his own, her fingers still buried in his hair and her lips so luscious, so kissable.
“I think we should go back to our hotel,” Benedict whispered only for her to hear and Charlene nodded with a loving smile.
“I totally agree,” she breathed before she pulled him gently closer and covered his lips tenderly with her own.