Door to Redemption

Door to Redemption is a work of Fiction.

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She’d left me, closing the door quietly behind her. I stared at it for so long, hoping it would open and she’d re-enter. Her face lit with a smile, her red lips telling me it was all a joke. That she didn’t think I was wasting her time, that she didn’t need more passion in her life.

That never happened. Instead, I drank until I couldn’t see, then passed out, awoke and drank some more. I hadn’t worked in days and had only eaten what was deliverable. The floor was littered with empty boxes and bottles, the mess an external display of my internal chaos.

I opened one eye, the light from the window reminding me my head was still attached, and very sore. Pushing myself up, I wiped crumbs from my face, groaning as I took in the surrounding clutter. God, I am a slob; I thought. No wonder she left.

Thinking I should tidy up, in case today was the day she came back, I walked to the pantry to retrieve the recycling bin, grabbing the broom as I passed. Returning to the living area, my foot slipped on the rug I had been meaning to tape down. The one I hadn’t gotten around to yet. Another strike against me, she would have said.

The rug flung out from under me, propelling me forward, my laden hands not prepared to catch my fall. A cry of horror, my cry, echoed around me, before the corner of the sofa came up towards me, my forehead connecting with the wooden cross joint. Then… blackness.

I came to groggily as the sun was setting. I had been out for hours. Getting to my feet, I noticed the apartment was clean, the pizza boxes and empty beer bottles missing. Strange. Why wouldn’t she have woken me? Then I remembered she left, and that brought more questions.

Feeling my forehead, I found there was no lump, and I wondered if I had dreamed the fall. Shaking my head, I wandered to the closest mirror, my bedroom, checking my reflection. Everything seemed in place, no visible marks. No tender spots where I probed with my fingers. My pupils seemed o dilate properly and my mind was surprisingly clear. Clearer than it had been in days.

Whether wishing or praying, I opened the closet and my side was still full. Hers, still barren and empty. Sighing, I folded down the comforter and sank into bed. Before my head settled on the pillow, I felt myself drift off.

Awaking with an energy I hadn’t had in days, I had a powerful urge to get up and move. After preparing breakfast, I changed into my workout gear, thinking a run would be good. Opening the door as I had a million times before, I stepped into the hall.

I locked the door behind me, then turned, stopping dead in my tracks. I rubbed my eyes and looked again. What the…?

Outside my apartment door, instead of the hallway that had been, was a… beach?

I could feel the breeze coming off the sea, smell the surf. My shoes sunk into the sand, and I bent over to grab a handful. It felt real enough. The sun was high in the sky, the warmth of the day caressing my skin. I looked around and realized I knew this beach. This was where we had spent our honeymoon.

Scanning the waterfront, I saw her lying facedown in the sand, her bikini top undone to even out her tan lines. Her eyes were closed, her expression relaxed. She looked refreshingly carefree.

I walked towards her, stopping at her side. Standing above her, looking down, reaching out to stroke her silky skin, I noticed I didn’t create a shadow. Looking back, there were no footprints in the sand. Touching her gently, she didn’t stir. And I realised, either I wasn’t really here, or didn’t have an effect. I rubbed my eyes and looked again, but everything was the same. No shadows, no silky skin under my fingertips. No footsteps in the sand.

Not sure what to do, but not wanting to leave either, I continued standing next to her. I drank in her youth and beauty. Her hair was still dark, with no strands of grey marking it yet. Her skin was smooth, her muscles defined. Years of working overtime and meals on the go not yet revealed. I studied every inch of her, wanting to remember her like this, wondering why I hadn’t before. Where was I; the real me, for that matter?

Searching, I found myself in the water, looking for seashells. Not beside my new wife like I should have been. I watched myself for a few minutes until I saw what I was meant to see. Why I was here. A pair of young women were walking by, their long legs and tanned skin on display. The tiny parcels of clothing they wore leaving little to the imagination. I watched as my former self stopped what he was doing to watch them pass by. He dropped the shells, a look of pure bliss crossing his face. I turned to where my wife was laying. She had seen my younger self ogling them, too. A frown lined her usually joyous face, and I let my head sink to my chest.

I walked back towards where I came from and ambled through the door, closing it behind me. I leaned against it to consider what I had seen. That moment in time had been years ago. How many more moments were there that I should have had my attention on her, and it was on someone, or something else?

Not sure, but needing to check, I opened it again. Outside was the hallway that should have been. I stepped into the hall, turning to close the door, and when I spun back around, again I was transported to a former time.

I was in a nightclub. The heavy bass surrounding me was sultry and seductive, designed to make listeners think of carnal need and passionate sex. Bodies rubbed against each other on the dance floor, bumping and grinding to the beat. I had been here before, one time. We didn’t go on many dates, but this was one that she had planned.

I remembered the sexy dress she wore just before I recognised her among the crowd. She was as beautiful as I recalled with her hair loose around her face, layered gently down her back. Red satin hugged her curves. Her hands were waving above her, an exuberant smile plastered on her face, and there I was behind her, looking bored, barely shuffling my feet. I had my hands on her waist, pulling her back against my front, but my eyes were anywhere but on her. I was watching other women, taking in their moves and bodies. Undressing them with my eyes while I held tight to my wife.

She pressed her round little ass against me, trying to get my attention. Nevertheless, I remained focused on everything but her. I watched as her face fell, her eyes following mine. I watched as she turned and whispered in my ear, then headed towards the restroom. We left shortly after she returned; I recalled then. The joy of the pre-date jitters swept away in my evidently lustful gaze.

I returned to my living room, seeing the common denominator. It was me. How had I been so oblivious to her hurt? I sat on my couch, thinking, watching as the sun moved across the sky. There had to be more, something I was missing. The dream, if that’s what this was, hadn’t ended yet, so there must be something else.

I crossed over to the door once more, taking a deep breath. Facing your flaws is not for the faint of heart. My hands shook vigorously as I slowly reached out for the handle. Turning it gingerly, like it was as fragile as a newborn, I took another deep inhalation, holding it in.

Pulling the door open, I stepped out, turning to close it behind me. I felt the shift before I spun around. The way the open window blew the drapes, creating an aura of the outdoors throughout the room. Tentatively, I turned to see our first shared bedroom. The one in the house that was too small, I had said. She loved that house and its walk-out to the beach. She loved the little picket fence and the way the sun set behind it at the end of a hot summer’s day. I had wanted something more modern, something that spoke of the status I had achieved.

The door burst open, and we stumbled across the threshold, her slim body surrounded by my arms. Our mouths locked as our tongues tangled. She let out a moan as we fell to the bed. Her dark hair fanned out around her to create a halo. Her eyes were brimming with unbridled lust. God, she was gorgeous.

I watched as I removed her clothing, took my time running my lips over her soft skin. She shivered as I all but devoured her with my eyes while lowering my zipper, letting my pants fall to the floor.

“I’ve been thinking,” she started. I didn’t stop, barely acknowledged what she was saying. “We should try something new.” Her face blushed as she spoke the words. I felt my eyebrow raise at that. My former self didn’t stop though, just continued what he was doing, but I was fully engaged. I didn’t remember this conversation, but why?

She tried to push me away, tried to tell me more, but I continued to take what I wanted and not worry about her. I slid into her not yet ready body and the new me watched as her face displayed a tinge of pain. Watched how her hands grabbed my back to slow my pace, but the old me just kept plunging into her depths.

A long moan ripped from me all too soon, and I realized I had climaxed. I hadn’t worried about her or tried to make it good. I had taken what I wanted and gave nothing back in return.

Rolling over, I pulled out and sat up. Her eyes were closed, a look on her face that I couldn’t place, didn’t know the meaning of. My younger version redressed and left the room with nothing more than an excuse. There was something else to do.

She lay there then, not moving. Slowly, her hand crept down between her thighs. My eyes widened in shock as I watched her pleasure herself. And in that moment I wondered, is there anything more exciting than this? What would she have said if I had asked what she was thinking?

I continued to watch as she played with her little nub, plunged her fingers into her channel. I’d never seen touch herself sexually before and thought now that I wanted to see it every day. But she had left me, and now I never would. Not for real.

Her climax was announced with a low moan, eyes rolling to the back of her head. She looked stunning at that moment. All inhibitions gone as she rode the waves of pleasure.

She sat up and slowly dressed, then walked to the door and looked back. I could have sworn she looked directly at me, and I felt my heart break as she wiped a single tear from her cheek. I gasped, knowing I did that. My shoulders curved as I fell into myself, a sob escaping me.

I felt hands on my face before my eyes fluttered open. Could smell her perfume permeating the air. She was here! My gaze locked on hers, a smile spreading across my face. Grabbing her in a too-tight hold, I pulled her face to mine, my mouth demanding and persistent.

She pulled back to look at me. “What has come over you?” She asked breathlessly. Pulling her on top of me, I whispered, “hopefully, you.”

Header image for Door to Redemption found on Canva.com

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