Ik zie hun, jij ziet hun en aansluitend kijken we elkaar recht in de ogen met een hele ontwapende lach. We betrappen elkaar op zelfs twinkeltjes in onze ogen, twinkels die de goesting ook bij ons verraadt. Jij bijt op je lip. Je ziet dat ook ik op mijn lip bijt. Ik knijp liefjes in je bil en kus je weer en fluister “’t gaat genieten worden, ik voel het” en jij lacht je zwoelste lach en fluistert met je diepste stem “ik voel het ook, zin in” En zo neemt dierlijke lust het weer over van mijn verstand. Blij om. Begin van die dierlijke lust te houden. Nu al. “Proeven, als borrelhapje. Serveer jezelf en doe het uitnodigend.” met deze instructie neemt de ceremoniemeester ons de zaal in. Meer heb jij en ik niet eens nodig. Hand in hand stappen we de zaal binnen. Ogen zien ons. Alle babbels stoppen. Mensen tikken elkaar aan en draaien zich aan hun tafel om. Iedereen voelt de spanning. Elke stap van je wordt gehoord. “Tik” “Tik” “Tik” Je borsten deinen mee. Mijn paaltje wiegelt zachtjes op. I felt supercharged. Tingly. Why was something so insignificant amplified beyond its proportions? How could I be affected to this degree by someone I hardly knew? Someone who wasn't my wife. It didn't make any sense.She drained the last of her drink and untucked her feet. Yet again, I tried hard not to look up her dress as she shuffled off the armchair and padded past me to the kitchen. She smelled great. Soap and a light perfume I couldn't place.I spun my wedding ring. Glanced over at her phone on the dresser and its scorching hot contents, wondering if I could find a way to see more. It was unholy to even consider it. A one-way ticket to hell, for sure. But on the flipside, I couldn't unsee what I'd seen already. Was a little more of the same thing so bad? The lyrics from a song I'd heard on the radio swam through my head. Something about coming back Sunday morning to sell your soul.I sensed Kay in the doorway and looked up, her head cocked, one arm on the frame."You've not seen.
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