The rest of the day seemed to pass so slowly. Philip was attentive as he ever was, making coffee and tea, and ensuring I stayed off my feet as much as possible, generally behaving as he always did but it wasn't the same and we both knew it. He had lost that sparkle.

It was breaking my heart to see him. I knew he still loved me but he was a broken man and I don't think he liked me very much. I desperately wished I could go back in time and undo the damage I had done but, of course, that could never be and I had to do whatever I could to make amends, to win back his trust and be his love again.

I noticed that he no longer made eye contact now, wouldn't, maybe couldn't, look at me.

I couldn't tell what he was thinking. Was he just going through the motions until I was well enough to take care of myself again or was he just trying to make an effort to get over what I had done to him?

That evening we sat in front of the television as we always did, me watching, him with his book. We had never enjoyed the same programmes so he let me watch whatever I wanted while he read and if there was anything he wanted to see he would record it to watch when I was at work. I had never thought about it before but we really did have very different tastes and as I looked at him I began to realise that we actually didn't have that much in common.

Whenever we went out shopping we generally went our separate ways and met again later and it made me wonder now, was this what had gone wrong? Had I now begun to want the things he just could not offer?

As I studied him, I realised that he had not turned a page in some time, was he too thinking about our future?

He looked up and peered at me over the top of his book.

Seeing me looking at him he gave a half hearted smile and quickly returned his attention to the pages in front of him but still didn't turn any.

The clock on the Mantel seemed to have stopped. It hadn't but I kept looking at it and each time the hands had hardly moved and even now, it was still only eight-thirty.

I sighed quietly to myself, this was unbearable.

“I think I will go up,” I said at last, “Do you mind?”

Philip lowered his book and looked at me over the top of his reading glasses.

“No, you go ahead. I will finish this chapter,” he said eventually, “Can I help you up the stairs.”

“No, I'll be fine,” I answered him as I pulled myself to my feet, “I have to get some strength back to help it heal.”

He nodded,

“All right, see you in the morning,” he replied.

I felt a lump rising in my throat and wanted to cry but no, I had to be strong so I just bid him goodnight and headed for the stairs.

What a hell of a day It had been and I was mentally and physically exhausted.

It was gone nine when I finally climbed into bed and pulled the duvet over me.

I hadn't bothered with all my usual ablutions, I just didn't care at that moment. I was going to sleep alone, not by choice and my mind didn't work any more so I sat on the edge of the bed, no thoughts, just dead inside slowly stripping away my clothes absent mindedly and throwing each garment in a heap on the floor.

Philip would have had a fit normally if I did that and, in all honesty, I would not normally do it but tonight? Tonight I had nothing left to even bother thinking about it as I slowly unfastened the buttons of my blouse, slipped it from my shoulders and dropped it casually to the floor.

My actions were slow and automatic, almost like a Zombie as I slowly lowered the zip of my long skirt and lifted first one cheek and then the other to slide it down and leave it in a heap around my feet.

Still staring towards the door, eyes glazed and unseeing, I reached behind and released the hooks of my bra letting gravity take care of it and shrugged it off to slip down my arms and drop unceremoniously on top of the increasing pile of discarded fabric on the carpet.

I sat for a while, nipples stiff with cold but I didn't really feel anything but a complete numbness inside until I flopped back, lifted my legs onto the mattress and covered myself with the duvet.

I lay in the darkness for what seemed like hours, just staring up at the ceiling until I heard Philip go into the spare room at the other end of the landing.

Unlike me, he still went to the bathroom, cleaned his teeth and whatever else men do before retiring.

The last sound I heard was the gentle, almost silent click of the door to the spare bedroom closing and I forced my eyes closed, desperately wanting to sleep.

In the darkness, I heard a sound, the sound of the door handle turning and the door opening.

“Philip?” I whispered.

“I can't bear it,” he said sadly, “I love you so much. I need you, Anna, I can't live without you.”

I could see only his silhouette in the darkness but I turned back the duvet, revealing my semi-nakedness to him, silently willing him to get in beside me so I could hold him once more.

As he walked towards the bed I saw the robe he was wearing fall to the floor and then he was there, beside me, the warmth from his body burning through the coldness I had felt inside and thawing the icy emptiness I had felt.

I turned to him and pulled him to me, pressing my lips against his and feeling his hardness pressing against my belly.

“I want you so much,” his whisper somewhat muffled with my lips against him.

His kiss was passionate in the extreme and I could feel his hand on my mound, fingers snaking inside the elastic of my pants.

Oh how I wanted him right now!

A heat was spreading throughout my whole body emanating from beneath his palm and I was wet, soaking wet not just down where his fingers were, slick with my emissions, but I was sweating profusely and trembling violently under his ministrations.

First one and then another of his fingers slipped inside me, making me gasp with pleasure and immense desire.

His hot lips left mine and he kissed my chin, my neck, down my throat and between my heaving breasts finally seeking out my straining nipple.

I gasped as he drew the stiffening flesh between his warm lips and my breathing became deeper and more laboured.

As his fingers explored my depths I tilted my hips, urging him deeper and he did not disappoint me, his fingertips scratching gently across the opening of my cervix as they bathed in the hot liquid excretions of my excitement.

My arms wrapped ever more tightly around him, pulling him closer and then, just as I felt my orgasm reaching its crescendo, he stopped, withdrawing his fingers and releasing my engorged nipple.

I lay still, not daring to move as he sat back and placed his hands upon my flanks, turning me.

I knew what he wanted and I followed his guidance, rolling slowly and with a little difficulty due to my cast, onto my front.

Almost immediately I could feel his hot breath in the small of my back and his lips touched gently upon the small indentations either side of my spine.

His kisses sent waves of pleasure coursing through me and I began to grind my hips against the soft mattress below.

I had no thoughts now, my head filled with the overwhelming sensations his lips were causing and my hand had found its way beneath me, finding the core of my desire and seeking out my straining nub.

I let my fingers play, moving gently at first but increasing the pressure and the speed as his soft lips found the curve of my buttocks and the start of the valley between them.

I was silent no longer, soft moans and rasping breaths escaping my lips as I raised my bottom to him.

The feeling was beyond compare, I wanted him, I needed him. I needed his sex, his love, his desire like I had wanted nothing else in my whole life.

Philip's strong hands covered my burning buttocks and his thumbs entered the valley, separating them and exposing the tight puckered opening hidden therein. I felt the heat of his breath as he kissed me there, lingering, licking, probing, pelvis tilting as his tongue ran across the thin membrane between my anus and vagina, opening for him, giving his urgent tongue access to both places as he desired.

I was so incredibly close now and, as his tongue brushed against my tightest place once again I cried out, gently willing him to enter me.

“Is this what you want, Anna? Is this what pleases you?”

The voice was not his!

“Sam?” I gasped as her lips kissed that so private place, “Sam? What... Mmm.”

I couldn't speak, the wondrous sensations her tongue caused as it pushed through that tight ring made me gasp out loud and whilst my own fingers pressed and rubbed against my clitoris she inserted two of her own inside my soaking pussy.

“Sam, oh Sam...” I began to moan as my orgasm built and all control over my thoughts and body was lost totally.

“Oh yes, oh yes, please Sam, don't stop...” I gasped.

Her tongue pushed deeply into my rear and her fingers delved deep inside me, my moisture flooding from me and soaking into the sheet beneath.

My own fingers too were not idle but rubbed frantically until, suddenly, my orgasm burst uncontrollably through me and I let out a long drawn out wail.

“Sammm...”

I lay still, rigid for a moment and then slowly relaxed, trying desperately to breathe, my orgasm ebbing and suddenly the realisation dawned, it had all been a dream, just a dream and I began to sob gently into my pillow feeling hopelessly alone.

When I finally dried my tears I looked at the clock on the bedside table, three-thirty!

The house was silent and dark and I threw back the duvet and swung my legs to the floor sitting on the edge of the mattress holding my pounding head, what did it mean?

It was obvious. Whilst I wanted my old life back, with Philip, something was obviously missing and that something was Sam. It was going to take a hell of a lot of strength to keep her out of my thoughts and concentrate on saving my marriage but there was a problem, I wasn't sure if I had that strength.

Oh Lord, what a mess!

In the end, I grabbed my robe and headed carefully downstairs, pausing outside the spare room to listen to Philip breathing as he slept. I gathered he wasn't sleeping well either as I could barely hear him but he didn't stir so I made my way slowly down the stairs, one step at a time.

Inwardly I cursed the plaster cast on my foot, it may as well have been made from concrete and chained to the floor such were the difficulties it created but I saw it as a kind of punishment, a self inflicted punishment.

I didn't switch any lights on, preferring the darkness which, in a way, hid me from myself.

Damn it, no Paracetamol! Then I remembered, Philip had hidden them.

Not in the drawers or in any of the kitchen cupboards. I sighed and leaned heavily on the counter.

Fine, no painkillers? I would find another way to numb the pain. Alcohol!

There was a bottle of cognac in the cabinet and very soon I was sitting at the table with the bottle in front of me and a full glass in my hand.

The first mouthful made me cough as the strong alcohol caught the back of my throat but, within moments, that initial shock was replaced by a wonderful heat radiating throughout my body.

The second mouthful only served to increase that heat as did the third and soon, the glass was empty and already the effect was numbing my whole mind and body.

I refilled the glass.

I wasn't used to drinking, especially in the middle of the night but it was working. The pain in my head was easing and my thoughts were becoming a little hazy.

I was about half way through my second glass when the door opened.

“Anna, what are you doing?”

Philip stood silhouetted in the door way, still fastening his robe.

I didn't look up.

“I couldn't sleep,” I replied simply.

“I gathered that, neither could I but I meant, what are you doing?... with that,” he added, pointing to the brandy bottle on the table.

“Huh!” I grunted quietly.

“Anna, I mean it. What are you doing?” he repeated as I took another large mouthful, draining the remainder of the glass.

“I am trying,” I answered, picking up the bottle for a refill, “to kill the pain.”

Quickly he stepped forwards and snatched the bottle from my hand.

“Paracetamol would be better,” he chided.

“It probably would,” I agreed with a snarl, snatching the bottle back and tipping it quickly over my glass, “If you hadn't hidden them!”

“I haven't hidden all of them,” he sighed, “Just enough to stop you being silly again. If you had turned on the light you would have seen them in the drawer.”

At the same time he flicked the switch on the wall and my brain was suddenly ablaze with light.

“Turn it off, for goodness sake!” I yelled at him, somewhat slurred now and covering my eyes with my free hand.

The light stayed on.

“Look at you, Anna. Just look at you!”

I looked down and saw that my robe was hanging half open, exposing my breast.

My first instinct was to pull it closed, covering myself from his gaze but then, the drink began to speak. I took another large swig and placed the glass on the table.

“Why?” I asked him, getting unsteadily to my feet, “Do I look awful?”

“You're drunk!” he snarled.

“Am I?” I replied flatly, “Am I really? And why do you think that might be, hmm? What have I got left?”

With one hand on the table to steady me and in an effort to stop the room from moving, I pulled open my robe.

“Yes, look at me,” I whispered, picking up the glass once more, “LOOK AT ME!” yelling loudly this time.

“Look at this... this... sight! Look at what I have become!”

Philip looked aghast, unable to believe what he was hearing and seeing.

“Yes, go on, look at me!” I repeated, “Once you could not have stood there like that. Once you would have come to me, taken me, ravaged me! Once you would have but not now! Oh no, not now...”

My words trailed off as my bottom lip curled and the tears welled once more and I slumped back into the chair, the front my robe falling either side of my breasts.

“Not now...” I whispered, “Not any more...”

I tilted the glass once more to my lips breathing into the glass as the fiery liquid ran to the back of my throat, causing me to gag and cough slightly.

He didn't speak, lost for words I suppose but he looked shocked. He had never seen me like this before, I had never been like this before.

He stepped towards me, just one step and without looking up I said, “Oh... go to hell!” and drained the remaining contents of the glass.

I should have felt guilty. I would have felt guilty had it not been for the Cognac. Philip was not to blame, he had done nothing wrong but right now I felt so sorry for myself, because of the situation that only I had created, that my mind no longer functioned.

He didn't go to hell though, he just stood looking at me with moist doggy eyes and even through the alcoholic haze his sadness hurt me deeply.

“I dreamed of you,” I whispered, pouring another glass, “I dreamed that you came to me and made love to me. I dreamed that you wanted me and I even had an orgasm. When I awoke and found myself alone I cried...”

My love for him was so great that even now I could not tell him that I had also dreamed of Sam and that it was she who had made me come.

Again I took a large swig and dragged myself up.

I must have looked awful, eyes red and tearful and matted unkempt hair. My robe was still hanging open and I was acutely aware of the big wet patch on my pants.

It was no wonder that I didn't excite him any more, I was unlikely to excite anyone.

I looked directly into his eyes and watched as a tear rolled down his cheek and dripped off his chin then pushed past him but he grabbed me and pulled me to him, holding me tightly, cradling my head against his chest. I struggled at first because I wanted to run, anywhere, away and to be alone but he he held me so tightly that slowly, all the anger that had built inside me began to drain away and I let the glass fall to the floor with a barely noticed thud as it hit the carpet and the small amount of Cognac that remained splashed over our feet.

He held me as I sobbed heartily, the hot salty tears dripping down his chest and through the greying hairs.

Slowly, my hands slid around his waist and I grabbed a fistful of his robe in each and held on to him as though for dear life.

“I love you,” I whispered between sobs, “ I need you so much.”

“I love you too,” he replied quietly, his face pressing into my hair.

“Come on,” he said gently, “Let's get you back to bed. We have a long hard fight ahead of us and being tired won't make it any easier.”

Very carefully, Philip helped me back up the stairs. It was difficult enough with my foot in plaster but now that the alcohol had soaked well in, it was almost impossible. I had drunk so much and so quickly that I was barely conscious as we fumbled and staggered step by wobbly step back to our room where he laid me gently onto the mattress and pulled the duvet over me then kissed me gently on the forehead and turned to go.

“Can't you stay, Philip? Please?” I slurred with very numb lips.

The last thing I remembered before succumbing to the alcohol induced stupor was his hand slipping slowly from mine.