Redemption 7

We were just married and in the car, on our way to the cabin where we would spend our honeymoon. I was nervous -- I felt like I was suddenly sitting next to a stranger and I couldn't think of anything to say. Perhaps Robert was nervous too, because he seemed to be going very fast. Much too fast.

I didn't want to say anything and seem like I was wining. I didn't want to start off that way. Then, I got an idea. I kissed him on his cheek. On his chin. On his nose. Light, small kisses. At the stop light, I kissed him full on the mouth. "Bring it down a few notches and I promise not to stop," I whispered in his ear. His eyes didn't leave the road, but I saw a small grin playing at the corners of his mouth. And when we started moving again, we stayed well below the speed limit.

I kissed his eyes and his cheekbones and his neck and licked his ear. Then I noticed his hard on. That wasn't my intention. I only intended to think up a creative way to prevent us from being killed before we even had our honeymoon.

But since I was the cause of this discomfort, I thought I should really do something about it. It was only fair. I'd heard of people who gave head while driving. I'd never dreamed of doing such a thing, but I found myself reaching down to unzip his fly.

Suddenly his hand shot out grasped my arm so quickly I gasped in fright. He held me there in his unyielding grip until we pulled over into a nearby gas station. He stopped the car and turned to look straight into my eyes with a hard, steely gaze, still holding me tight. "I will never be the kind of guy who does that sort of thing." He let go of my arm and gripped the steering wheel with whitened knuckles and stared straight ahead, as if he couldn't even look at me anymore. "I didn't think you were like that either," he said, before slamming on the gas angrily and peeling out of the parking lot.

I sank back into my seat, rubbing my arm. I didn't know what I could possibly say. I felt so awful that he felt betrayed, as if he was tricked into marrying one person and suddenly discovered he was now shackled to another. As if daddy's little girl had turned out to be a whore. It wasn't true -- I'm not really like that. One thing just led to another, I wasn't really thinking about it. I didn't plan it that way -- I didn't even really want to do it, I just thought maybe I owed it to him to do it. But I didn't know what to say, how to explain to him that I didn't mean it and that he hadn't been betrayed. I sat there miserably in my seat all the rest of the way to the cabin, too miserable even to care that we were racing there at breakneck speed.

He still didn't speak to me or even look at me as we arrived at the cabin and checked ourselves in. I had been nervous before about the "honeymoon" part. I mean, I had never made love before. I wasn't a virgin, but I'd never I'd never had sex by choice, either. Now, I wondered if we'd even sleep in the same bed, let along sleep together.

But when we got to the room, Robert lit the fire. He turned down the lights and began undressing. I put on the negligee I'd purchased just for tonight. Robert didn't put on anything. He came toward me in the half light and stroked my cheek with his thumb. He put his hand behind my head and leaned down to kiss me gently, then more deeply. I was relieved and threw myself into it, kissing him passionately and fervently. I still felt bad about what had happened and wanted to please him desperately. So I slowly bent down on my knees before him, intending to take him into my mouth.

I was surprised when he got to his knees too. He took my head in both hands and looked deeply into my eyes, concern etched in his features. Very softly and gently he asked me, "Why do you keep doing that?"

I looked down for a moment, confused. Then I looked up at him. "I just wanted to make you happy," I told him.

He dropped his hands to his knees and stayed like that, looking into the fire, silent for a long time. I hung my head, ashamed, although I wasn't quite sure why. I thought that's what all guys wanted and I just wanted to please him.

Finally he asked me in a very low voice, "Who abused you?" My mind reeled and I couldn't say anything for a long time. Why would he say that? How could he know that? He waited, patiently, for my answer. So I told him.

I didn't go into details. I didn't tell him how my one time boyfriend had once taken me on a lovely picnic at the national park. I didn't tell him that we left at dusk and were the last car in the parking lot. I didn't tell him how that's when he unzipped his fly and forced my head down or how I was so terrified I did what he wanted because I was afraid of what he might do if I refused. All I could bring myself to say to him was, "I was date raped," with lowered eyes in a still, small voice, a half whisper.

He didn't say anything for a moment as he pulled the blanket off the bed and wrapped it around himself. Then, he pulled me into his lap and wrapped the blanket around me, holding me close and safe, like a little child. I buried my head in his shoulder and wrapped my arm around his neck. "I'm sorry," I whispered as I choked back a sob.

"You don't ever have to do that for me." He told me. "We don't even have to have sex until your ready." "But don't you want to?" I asked him.

"I want to take your pain," he answered. "I wish I could take it all into myself. I love you so much, I'd take all of you into myself if I could, so you'd be with me always and so I could protect you and take care of you. I want to be one with you. When we're coupled in our love making, then it's like we are one body, one person, one soul for that moment in time. It's as close as I can get to being a part of you, and you being a part of me."

I cried and I kissed him, hard, and at that moment was more in love than I had ever been in my life. I just wanted to melt into him and be a part of him. We made love passionately, there on the floor, and it was the most visceral, spiritual, intense experience I'd ever had.