Lyon's Den

"Take this off." Jenifer pulled at Bruce's semen stained gown. "I'd better get you a clean one."

"I think you're right," said Bruce. Feeling awkward in unfamiliar emotional terrain, he added, "Thank you."

Jenifer kissed the tip of his nose, and smiled with a self-satisfied quirk to her lips. "I thought it might take your mind of things and relax you." Dismounting from his lap, she held out her hand. "You'd better get back into bed... unless you want to sit naked in the chair."

Bruce laughed, and said, "I think I'll get back in bed." He took her hand, and with a little assistance, stood without unbearable pain.

She smiled up at him, and said, "I can't believe I fell in love with an uptight prude. Turn around."

He complied, but the comment jarred him. "Prude? Is that how you really think of me?"

Gently, Jenifer ran her hands across his shoulders and down his back to the first bow.

"Well, let's just say I've loosened you up considerably."

She deftly untied the three knots that held the gown in place.

"Take it off."

Her hands cupped his bare bottom and squeezed while he shrugged it off.

"I love your butt. It's so cute!"

"Thanks... again," he said, as his face warmed with this new intimacy. But she was his wife, after all. She had exclusive rights, and he began to warm to the mystery marriage concept. That meant he had exclusive rights to her, as well, and wondered if she would be as accepting of his explicit fondling. Apparently they had a very satisfying sexual relationship, something he'd always wanted with a wife. Would she be as happy with him now? Would he meet her expectations? She said she liked being his first lover, which meant she must have been more experienced to begin with.

Breaking into his thoughts, she said, "Let me help you to bed, Sweetie."

Turning to face Jenifer, Bruce felt a twinge of embarrassment. She seemed so unaffected by his nudity, the feeling quickly disappeared.

Tucking him in, she said, "I'll be right back. Don't go anywhere."

"Don't worry. I'm too tired. You wore me out."

She grinned, and answered, "I'm very good at that, Lover."

Bruce fell asleep, and didn't awaken until lunch was delivered. His empty stomach rumbled at the sight of just a sandwich. The meager offering looked delicious, including the green Jello. An hour later, strength began to return to his limbs.

Restless and tired of bed, he said, "What are you doing?"

Jenifer looked up from her phone, and said, "Nothing. Just reading the news. The weather is going to be cool and dry tomorrow. I'll have to bring you warm clothes to go home in."

"I think I'd like to get up and walk down the hall."

Jenifer smiled, popped up out of her chair, and said, "The nurse told me you should walk, so they gave me two clean gowns. Stand up. I'll help you dress. You don't want to distract the nurses with your cute butt hanging out."

She sandwiched him between the two gowns, and helped him slip on nonskid socks.

They linked arms, and stepped into the hall.

Bruce looked both ways. "Why is there a cop sitting there?"

"I don't know. There must be a prisoner in the room."

They turned and walked in that direction. As they passed the door, Bruce looked inside. A man lay on his side, staring out through the door with unseeing eyes. A gloss of sweat coated his skin.

Jenifer gasped, and said, "That's the man who shot you."

Hearing her comment, the officer looked up from his magazine, suddenly wary.

Bruce stopped and stared back at the man in the room for long seconds. "I don't remember... anything."

The man in the room blinked, and his expression changed to one of recognition.

Bruce thought, 'he looks crazy,' and took a step closer.

Suddenly, the man yanked on his hand cuff and started to thrash angrily.

The officer stood and looked in the door. "Knock it off, or I'll have you strapped down." He turned to Bruce, and said, "Glad to see you up and around, Mr. Baxter. Don't worry about him. He's not going anywhere. But please move along. He's going through drug withdrawal. I'd like to keep him calm, so I can stay outside the room. Otherwise, I'll have to sit inside and close the door." His nose wrinkled when he said, "He stinks."

"Sorry officer." said Bruce, as they continued down the hall.

"You're an animal!" shouted Jenifer over her shoulder.

Bruce smiled at his mystery wife's outburst, and thought, 'She's a fighter. I like that.'

They walked quietly to the elevators, and Bruce felt the tug of freedom. "Let's sneak out. Take me home now."

Laughing softly, Jenifer hugged him sideways, and said, "Aw, Baby. I like that idea, but let's not rush it. I don't want to risk your health. Tomorrow will be here before you know it."

"You must be bored, just sitting around."

"Not when I'm with you." She kissed his cheek.

"Oh yeah, I'm the most exciting prude in the world." Reluctantly, he turned around and headed back to the room. Even the short walk drained him of energy. He moved to the handrail lining the wall for additional support. "Would you do me a favor, Mrs. MMW?"

Jenifer looked up at him with a puzzled expression. "MMW?"

"My mystery wife."

"Oh." Her puzzled expression transformed to stricken, and she looked away. "What do you want?"

He saw the hurt he'd caused, and tried to repair the damage. "I mean... you are a mystery to me right now. I'm sure my memory will come back, and we'll go on with our lives, better than before."

Jenifer hugged his arm. "And if it doesn't, we'll just start fresh. Right?"

"Right," said Bruce, "Would you go home and bring back my laptop? I'd like to see what's new on it." Trying to sound optimistic, he added, "Maybe it'll bring back memories. How can I go back to work if I don't know what I've been working on?"

"Are you sure? You should rest. Don't rush it. Things will come back in time."

"Rest? How can I rest while the missing years of my life haunt me?" A surge of panic caused an adrenalin rush, giving him new strength and he walked faster, sliding his hand along the rail, consciously pulling away from Jenifer. "I'm married? When? Where? Did we have a honeymoon? How'd we meet? Where's your family? Why aren't they here to support you?"

His voice had risen to a level that drew attention. As they walked by the prisoner's room, the officer looked at him with concern. The man on the bed grinned like he was laughing on the inside.

Bruce pointed at him, and said, "That asshole knows more about you than I do!" He let go of the rail and started across the hall toward him. "Maybe I should get some answers myself."

The addict's eyes grew big, but the officer stood and blocked the door. "I'm sorry, Mr. Baxter. I can't let you near him. It would only hurt your case. He can't talk anyway. You broke his jaw."

"Yeah?" He glanced over the officer's shoulder, and said to the man who now pointed and pretended to shake with laughter, "I'm sorry... I'm sorry I didn't break your neck!" and lunged weakly toward the door.

The officer gently guided Bruce away, moving him in the direction of his room. "Believe me. When he gets to prison, he'll wish you did break his neck. A jellyfish has more spine than he does. They'll eat him alive. His life is over."

Jenifer regained Bruce's arm, as the anger subsided and he visibly slumped.

"It's okay, Baby. Let's get you back to bed."

"No! I'll sit in the chair. I'm not tired."

"Okay, okay. Just calm down before you pop your stitches."

In truth, Bruce felt exhausted, barely able to stumble to the chair. It hurt when he flopped down, pain shooting from his head to his chest and out to his fingers and toes.

Jenifer brought him a cup of water. "Want me to ask a nurse if you can get a pain pill?"

Rudely, Bruce dismissed her with a wave of his hand, and said, "No."

He sipped the water, and thought, 'Get a grip. You're still alive. You'll get better. Praise God!'

God? He hadn't thought of God as a part of his life since he left home.

Handing the cup back to Jenifer, he asked, "Do you believe in God?"

By the look on Jenifer's face, the question was unexpected. "Uh, no... I don't, or I didn't. I mean, I wasn't raised in a religious family. I know you do, or did, but it didn't seem important to you anymore. While you were unconscious, I did talk to the hospital chaplain about... what happened to us. I have to admit, it made me feel better. It's comforting to think there's something, or someone, in control of this fucked up... sorry, screwed up world."

"Did we go to church, ever?"

"No. But I'd go with you, if you want to."

"Maybe."

Jenifer bent down and kissed him on the cheek. "I'll be back in a couple of hours. Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"How would I know?"

"That's my point. Don't do anything." She picked up her purse, waved goodbye, and disappeared through the door.

Bruce dozed in the chair, occasionally waking from a disturbance in the hall. Once, a nurse stuck her head in to make sure he was still alive. Strength returned enough to make him restless. So he forced himself up and stood shoulder against the doorjamb to see what the world was like outside his room. It was almost as boring as inside the room, until a white collared preacher, Bible in hand, left the nurses' station and headed in his direction.

Holding out his hand to shake, he said, "Hi, Mr. Baxter, I'm Pastor Alex Pembroke, the hospital chaplain. I spoke with your wife, Jenifer, yesterday. I'm happy to see you up and around. This is an answer to prayer. Your wife was very concerned."

Bruce shook hands. "Funny thing, we were just talking about you."

"She must be thrilled to have you awake and doing so well. Is she here?"

"No. She went home to get some things for me." Bruce turned sideways and waved his hand into the room, saying, "Would you come in and answer a few question?"

"Of course, I'd be happy to."

Bruce sat in his hospital recliner, while Pastor Alex dragged a visitor's chair closer, and asked, "What can I help you with?"

"Well... here's the problem. Since I woke up, I don't have any memory of being married, or of Jenifer. I don't remember anything about us being together. They said my memory would probably come back in a few days. But it's... unsettling to have someone tell me they love me, someone who wants to be affectionate, when I don't feel any kind of emotional bond with them. Can you tell me what you know about her, about us? Jenifer said she spoke with you."

Pastor Alex leaned forward and rested his chin on his entwined fingers. "Hmm. Well, I can't reveal her exact words to me. They're confidential. But I can tell you she loves you very much. In a way, you saved her life long before this recent attack. She'd had a terrible childhood. I believe she was on a path that would have destroyed her chance for true happiness. You have made her see the value in..." he paused in thought before continuing, "Let me explain it another way. She said you were from a religious background. Is that right?"

Bruce sat back in silence for a moment, and then answered, "That's right."

"Are you familiar with the four Greek definitions of love used in the Bible?"

"Yes, a little. They are Agápe, Éros, Philia, and Storge."

"Wow! Very good. I'm impressed." Pastor Alex patted Bruce's knee. "Jenifer is very fortunate to have found a man like you, who understands the differences. She has a hungry heart, and it sounds like you've been satisfying a need in her."

"How so?"

"Let's speak hypothetically, and leave Jenifer out of the conversation for the moment," said Pastor Alex, meeting Bruce's unwavering gaze. "What do you think would happen to a child who'd only experienced the Éros kind of love while growing up?"

Bruce frowned at the disgusting thought. "You're talking about sexual abuse. I think that child would be emotionally damaged."

Pastor Alex nodded sadly, and then said, "But there is always hope." He rubbed his chin, and continued, "Now this child that survived the physical abuse would grow up with emotional scars. She wouldn't know how to cope with affection. That is until she finds someone who relates to her with Philia - a dispassionate love, a virtuous love, and enjoyment of companionship. Someone that showed her how to love as friends and equals. Do you see how that would be attractive to her?"

Bruce nodded, his mouth suddenly too dry to speak.

"Studies have shown that abuse destroys the trust a child should feel toward adults. They feel betrayed. They develop a negative outlook on life. This pessimism affects a person's ability to establish and maintain relationships and attachments throughout life. Adult survivors often enter into relationships filled with conflict. They don't know how to form mature, intimate, connections and often act out in ways that threaten to disrupt close, personal bonds." Pastor Alex smiled warmly, and said, "However, it is possible to overcome the past, to live a meaningful life. It is hard work, but they can develop new coping skills. But first they have to understand the relationship between their early abuse and their current behavior. That's the first step toward healing."

Bruce cleared his throat, and simply said, "I get it."

"I'm glad. I think you two were meant for each other." Standing, Pastor Alex held out his hand, and they shook again. "Mr. Baxter, as afraid as you feel about not remembering Jenifer, think how afraid she must be about losing the one person she'd finally come to trust enough to love and marry." He grinned, and added jokingly, "But don't feel pressured." He moved toward the door. Turning back, Pastor Alex set his Bible on the sink and said in parting, "I'll keep you two in my prayers."

Alone with his thoughts, Bruce mulled, cogitated, and pondered for the next four hours all he'd learned about his mystery wife. When dinner arrived he ate without tasting, because worry began to invade his thoughts. Jenifer should've been back by now. Ignoring the pain, he rose, walked over to the sink, and picked up the abandoned Bible. A new rejuvenating strength of will and purpose compelled him to open it to verses he remembered fondly. They spoke about the relationship between a husband and wife.

1 Corinthians 7:2 But because of the temptation to impurity and to avoid immorality, let each [man] have his own wife and let each [woman] have her own husband. 3 The husband should give to his wife her conjugal rights (goodwill, kindness, and what is due her as his wife), and likewise the wife to her husband. 4 For the wife does not have [exclusive] authority and control over her own body, but the husband [has his rights]; likewise also the husband does not have [exclusive] authority and control over his body, but the wife [has her rights]. 5 Do not refuse and deprive and defraud each other [of your due marital rights], except perhaps by mutual consent for a time, so that you may devote yourselves unhindered to prayer. But afterwards resume marital relations, lest Satan tempt you [to sin] through your lack of restraint of sexual desire.

Although he thought the Bible wrought with inconsistencies and archaic language, he loved the idea of the description of married life. Two people satisfying each other's desires without restraint. He loved the idea of sharing one flesh, each having rights to their partner's body. To refuse Jenifer's affection would be to defraud her of her rights. But where the hell was she?

Eventually he dozed off, until a hand gently caressed his cheek. He opened his eyes to see his smiling mystery wife.

"Hi."

Bruce sat up straight. "Hi. What took you so long? I was getting worried." He noticed a significant change in her appearance. She'd changed into jeans and a plain, white tee-shirt. The makeup she'd worn earlier was now scrubbed away. Her eyes looked red like she'd been crying.

"Are you all right?"

Jenifer placed a notebook computer on his lap, and said, "I'm okay." She sat in the chair next to him. "I am worried, though. I'm worried about what you'll find on your computer. You have some image files on there you may find shocking. I tried to erase them, but you have them password protected. So I couldn't." Her eyes closed. "I thought about smashing it."

"They upset you that much? You were crying?"

Jenifer nodded as a tear ran down her cheek.

Bruce opened the lid and pressed the power button. When it completed its boot-up he opened the file menu, and asked, "Which folder?"

Leaning over, Jenifer pointed. "The one labeled 'website'." She stood, anxiously saying, "I'm going to the bathroom."

His fingers flew over the keyboard. "Wait a second." With an exaggerated, swirling motion, his index finger pressed one final key, "There. The file is gone. Deleted."

"Really?" She sat back down to look for herself. "You remembered the password?"

"I tried the same password I used in college. It worked."

Did you empty the recycle bin?"

After a double click, the wastebasket icon opened to a 'this folder is empty' message.

"Yes. See."

"Thank you." She kissed his hair. "You've always been so patient and kind with me." Jenifer gingerly sat cross his lap, making sure to lean against his chest on the opposite side from the bullet wound. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she kissed him chastely on the lips and then buried her face against his neck. "I love you," she whispered.

Reflexively, Bruce wrapped his arm around her waist to hold her secure. His heart swelled with new warmth. He couldn't say he loved her, but he could give her the loving embrace a husband should give his wife.

'She's entitled to this,' he thought, although the softness of her breath on his neck and the warmth of her embrace wasn't exactly a hardship. What did surprise him was how fast she fell asleep in his arms. Her breathing became slower. Her muscles relaxed. Bruce held her like a sleeping child, safe and secure. Maybe Pastor Alex was right. She was more afraid about the future than he was.

Thirty minutes later, Jenifer stirred. "Oh god, I'm sorry." She sat up and looked into his eyes.

"I'm not. You felt good in my arms. And you smell really good." Grinning, he added, "I even nodded off for a while."

Touching her lips to his ear, she whispered, "I taste good too."

Heart thumping, a lump in his throat, he said, "Good to know. I look forward to finding out."

"Well tomorrow we can hold each other and taste test all day and all night." She kissed him before getting up. "I should get going. Our cupboard is bare. Is there anything you want me to pick up at the store?" she asked, combing her hair through her fingers.

He thought a moment, and said, "Something to barbecue, like steaks or chicken. I want to eat outside if the weather is good."

"And if you feel up to it." She kissed his cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow morning, Baby. Sweet dreams."

"You too."

Bruce blankly stared at the empty doorway. His mind's eye still envisioning the sway of her bottom in the tight jeans. Eros, his mystery wife seemed to personify the horny Greek god.

He reached over to the empty chair, picked up his laptop, and opened the file manager.

"Time to see what I've forgotten." He opened the recently named 'financial' folder and entered his longstanding password. A list of .jpg files appeared. At the top of the page, Bruce elected to list the files by date - oldest first. "Might as well start at the beginning."

The first file was a picture of Bruce and Jenifer together, posing in what appeared to be a wedding photo. Recognizing the background, Bruce thought, 'Daniel must've been our photographer.' There looked to be over a hundred files in the folder.

'Must've been some wedding.'

But after the first few wedding shots, the photos drastically changed.

"Holy shit!" Bruce closed the lid and looked up anxiously, making sure no one heard the exclamation and came running. When no one did, he reopened the screen and began a slow click through, file by erotic file.