The happy ever after

I love my husband and have done since the day we met. We’ve been married for 15 years.

I tell him (jokingly of course) that Steve Pacouli was once a candidate for his position and could still be. I have stalked him on Facebook a couple of times. I have noticed that he does have more hair than Damian and still looks like he attends a gym quite often.

Quite.

Often.

Steve married Julie Baker two weeks after Steve and I had that ‘fling”. How embarrassing. Don’t judge me harshly. Please. I didn’t know Damian then, I was 22, and we were both so drunk.

Obviously, I never told Dame about it, never told anyone.

I was 22 and stupid. I knew about Julie, but Steve looked gorgeous that night: tight T, blue levis, thongs. It could just about describe every man of the time.

I can’t remember whose party it was. I remember that we were just talking, and then we were kissing. I remember the taste of his mouth, his tongue. A mixture of beer and cigarettes.

It was summer, in the cool of the evening, it was late, and there we were, behind the shed at the back of someone’s house.

I started to feel his groin pushing into me. I reached down and felt his penis growing, pulsing in my hand, my skirt around my waist.

Excuse me a minute, I have to stop.

Stop.

Stop!

So that you know, nothing happened. I had actually opened my eyes to unbutton his pants when I saw a small child, a boy. I think he could have been about six years old; what did I know about kids in those days? I was just positive he wasn’t 40.

The kid was just standing there watching.

So embarrassing. We brushed ourselves back to normal and went back to the party. I’ve never seen Steve in the flesh since.

Whose party was it, anyway?

The last time I saw Steve was at … no, it can’t be … It was at Julie’s birthday party that night.

What would Damian think? Oh, dear, he is such a good man. He is not overly ambitious, knows his limitations, and rarely bothers them.

Oh, I know that sounds mean, but that’s not my intention.

He is the perfect husband for me. Perfect father to three kids. The perfect partner in a crisis, which we’re in now with COVID-19.

Damian was never the kind of man who would come up behind you, playfully pull your dress up as you stood drinking at the kitchen sink and push into you. A wink from Damian across a crowded room was never meant to inform you of late-night activities that could be at play. Damian’s wink is more the warm-cup-of-cocoa type.

You know what I mean. In fact, we haven’t had sex since the pandemic started, which is kind of sad.

With three growing kids always at home, who has the time or the opportunity? I don’t think I do. And I don’t think Damian wants to.

I know, I know, I’m no longer the woman I once was, the woman he married. Three births, two of them Caesars, will do that to you. Am I no longer as desirable as I once was? Has my backside started to visibly stretch across the Philippe Starke Ghost Chairs Damian bought for my birthday? (Look them up. My Dentist has them in the reception area.)

I think COVID-19 has pushed us into the “and they lived happily ever after” part of our lives. We consider ourselves so lucky to have a partner, to have children, to still be employed, to have a home, to be safe.

For some of us, that Disney moment has kicked in. We’re living “happily ever after”. No one thinks about us any more; no one really cares; we’re just in that time.

Should I worry that Damian doesn’t look at me anymore? I mean, he doesn’t look at me “that way” any more. Should I worry that we get into our PJs with the lights out or in the bathroom? That he doesn’t spoon me anymore, wrap his arms around me, reach for my hand, kiss me like he used to before the kids arrived, hold me naked like he used to.

How long have Mum and Dad been in that land of “happy ever after”? I can see it in their eyes. No one ever prepares you for “happy ever after”. No stories ever continue into that realm of the kingdom. Was this always inevitable, and COVID has just sped up its arrival?

The other night, I snuggled up close to Damian. He kind of looked over with eyes wide open, slightly shocked. He pulled away. He must have seen the look on my face and tried to make a joke of it, “We’ll need to wear our face masks to bed if you’re getting that close.”

I said nothing, just rolled over and went to sleep “happily ever after”. I love my husband. I really do.