Presley Estates, Wesbury
The stroke of midnight looms, and Aisling and I are wrapped up in each other, lost in the Chateau’s depths. As our bodies connect, I notice something is different. Beneath me, tears stream down Aisling’s cheeks. It is clear these weren’t the tears of ecstasy I have been used to.
A sinking feeling washes over me as I realize that the once beautiful, passionate sex we used to enjoy has suddenly become painful for her. A burning ache seems to consume her, leaving me at a loss for how to help.
I just can’t keep going. I stop and pull out, a mix of shock and horror coursing through me.
‘Aisling, what’s wrong?’ I ask.
Her tears keep falling, and it feels like my heart is breaking into a million pieces as I look at her. ‘Am I doing something you don’t like?’ I ask softly, desperate to understand, to reach her somehow.
She lifts her head, her eyes a sea of sorrow, but she doesn’t speak.
‘What’s going on?’ I press, feeling utterly helpless in the face of her silent anguish.
She turns away, her anger and pain too intense for words. I reach out, wrapping an arm around her, trying to pull her close.
‘Can we talk, please?’ I plead, my voice desperate to bridge the gap between us, to bring some comfort.
But she resists, pulling away from me. She slips out of bed, her nakedness a stark contrast to the emotional armor she’s wearing, and rushes toward the bathroom. The sound of the door slamming echoes in the room, leaving me in darkness and silence.
I’m left there, alone, my heart aching in my chest. My thoughts race, trying to make sense of the storm of emotions that just tore through the room.
What could it be?
