My Angel

Have you ever had a love that is all consuming, where two hearts actually merged into one? Where your life and hers merge and you reach heights of love and understanding that you never dreamed were possible?

This isn't a cheating wife story or a hotwife story -- it's a simple love story. There's no BTB or RAAC, so if you're looking for that, move on. And as with all love stories, it's much too short, so if you need a lengthy story, then sorry, this can't be it.

Even after we met and married, I didn't realize the depth of the love we shared, Shari and me. I knew we were in love, and I knew I needed her like I've never needed anything before, not even air to breathe or food to sustain me. Without her nothing mattered. But I never realized how much our lives had merged into one.

We met at work. I was an engineering manager and Shari was a new hire in the accounting department. I was five years her senior, but she was so much more mature and older than me emotionally. When I first asked her out, I was so nervous at the thought that this angel might deign to go out with me that I stuttered, and spittle flew out of my mouth. I was humiliated and sure I'd blown it.

Shari looked into my eyes as she took her handkerchief and dabbed at my lips. Her smile lit up her eyes and she nodded at me. At first in my embarrassment, I thought she was laughing at me, but then her nod registered with me. "Yes? You're saying yes?"

She nodded her head and raised a fist, which she bounced a couple of times. I later learned my angel was mute. A deformity in this perfect creature made her vocal cords non-functional. But her eyes and smile spoke volumes and always would.

I eventually learned American Sign Language just so she could talk to me. Shari was my teacher. That gave us hours of time together beyond dinner and dates where we hiked, biked, danced, or just sat and watched the sun set. We took classes together: cooking, painting, pottery, taekwondo, and more dancing. Anything that brought us time together. We were joined at the hip, and within the year we were joined in holy matrimony.

Her kisses were like honey, really like honey, sweet and savory. She seemed to know my body from the first, able to play me like a virtuoso. I wish I could say I was as intuitive with her erogenous zones, but she was able to educate me in joyous lessons. Nothing I'd ever heard or seen, in movies, books or real life, could ever compare. Shari was truly an angel.

Don't get me wrong -- we had our ups and downs. I can't tell you how frustrating it is when you're arguing with someone who turns their back on you and storms away, still with her hands arguing and cursing you. You can't even argue back because you don't know what they're saying! "Really mature," I'd yell at my fallen angel, the little devil, as she slammed the door to the bedroom, still waving curses at me faster than I could read. But the anger never lasted long and the ascension back into heaven was, well, just heavenly.

She was a minx, too. She loved practical jokes. One night while I was sleeping, she piled Jell-O on her side of the bed, loosened the sheet corners on her side, swiftly pulled off the top sheet and blankets, then pulled the bottom sheet over me and tucked it into the mattress on my side. I woke up screaming. I don't know what I thought had happened, but I was trapped with something cold and slimy. Shari silently laughed and laughed while I yelled and struggled against the sheets. When I'd calmed down, she untucked the sheets and jumped in on top of me, slipping and sliding in the Jell-O. My anger disappeared as I slid into heaven.

I had thought that life couldn't be better when I came home to find Shari trying to put together a baby crib. She was failing miserably. Building things, anything that took tools, was beyond her scope. I looked at her, puzzled at first when she jumped up, wrapped her arms around my neck and started planting kisses all over my face. As the obvious dawned on me, I held her away from me and stared at her face. Her smile beamed as she nodded "Yes! Yes! Yes!" I hugged her so tightly that I suddenly worried about hurting the baby, which set off Shari in a fit of silent giggles.

As I undid her mistakes and began correctly building the crib, I babbled about how wonderful life was going to be. Shari just sat listening to me blather and smiled that angel smile.

Life took a turn to tragedy when, six months pregnant and heading for an obstetrics appointment, Shari's car was t-boned by a carjacker fleeing the police. We lost the baby and I thought I'd lost my angel as well.

But after several weeks, my angel was back home healed and well. I'd been buried in the bottom of a bottle since losing our darling baby. I hadn't been back to the hospital, where the visage of Shari laying unmoving, wrapped in plaster and black and blue wrenched my heart out of my chest. I couldn't breathe, couldn't talk. Suddenly I was mute and only able to silently sob, gasping for breath.

I had no one to call. Shari was my life, and I was hers. We never really developed friendships -- they just took us away from our time together. The police drove me home, not trusting me to drive. Social Services had a therapist there to meet me, but after an hour, I took her by the arm and led her to the door. Then I crawled into a bottle and stayed there.

I know my work had called. I know the hospital called about the bills. I knew my car had been towed from the hospital parking lot. I stopped answering after the hospital's third call and went back to the bottle.

Then Shari came home. She moved stiffly and still had some bruises, but her smile was heavenly. I held her and cried and cried. Later I felt guilty that I hadn't returned to the hospital and tried to tell her, but she just smiled. She took my hand and led me up to the bedroom and had me shower. Then she led me to the bed and laid with me as I slept for the first time in our bed since the accident.

We returned to work that week. I apologized to my bosses. They were understanding and told me how sorry they were for my loss. That made me cry again, but Shari pulled my head to her chest and kissed my forehead and comforted me.

Things settled down and went back to what it had been before our pregnancy. We would hike and bike and watch the sunsets. We went to work together and came home together. At work, Shari spent as much time as possible in my office. I needed her presence. Her smile was my rock. She was my life, my angel. She was my life. We were merged forever.

Some things were different. After the accident, since she had been stiff and sore, I began doing all the cooking and cleaning. I made the bed and did my own laundry. Shari did her silent laughter watching me trying to iron. So, what if some of my shirts had scorch marks on them. It was worth it to see her smile.

At work, she spent so much time in my office that her pay was cut. When I asked about her paycheck, the payroll clerk told me that her final check had included all her hours and accrued vacation. Shari led me out of accounting as the clerk told me how sorry they were for my loss and how they missed Shari. Shari just smiled at me, and I knew that she felt it didn't matter, so it didn't matter to me.

She truly is my angel.