Author Sean Kernan
Angie and her husband had been married for 30 years. Their kids had since moved out.
Their marriage had plenty of love. But it was not what it once was. The sex was few and far between. But they were comfortable.
Angie’s body had diminished. Age, gravity, childbearing had taken their toll on her. It bothered her. But it didn’t ruin her life. She’d gotten the memo on aging. She knew the deal.
Earlier that week, a new, much younger couple had moved into the apartment next door. He was a tall, young handsome man, and his girlfriend, very thin and beautiful.
She had long, straight black hair. Her boyfriend, short, curly brown hair. Both quite fit. A dashing pair by all measures.
The couple wasted no time in having loud sex every night. Angie put a pillow over her ears.
She could hear the girlfriend moaning next door, purring softly, her pleasure drifting through the wall, and just whispering through Angie’s pillow to her.
Angie smiled in her frustration. She never thought she’d be that person, with that type of neighbor. Angie and her husband laughed about it in the darkness.
The following week it happened again. And again the next week.
Lying in bed, Angie turned and saw her once studly, washboard ab husband snoring the night away, his beer belly hanging to the side. His body sharing in the hit Lady Time had dealt.
She loved her husband, sure, but she wished they had sex more. She missed the passion. But she wasn’t unhappy. It would just be nice…to have what that girlfriend next door had, what she and her husband used to have.
Angie bumped into that couple and met them a week later in the hallway. They were very nice. Both of them gorgeous. The guy, in a sleeveless workout shirt and shorts. His girlfriend, in a two-piece outfit, showing off her youthful curves and softly defined abs.
Angie didn’t say anything about the noises. She liked the couple. They were as nice as anyone could be. After two minutes of small talk, they parted ways.
Their young, passionate love, seemed to be on display at every corner, paraded in front of Angie’s comfortable, familiar marriage.
In the coming months, Angie seemed to see them everywhere. Holding hands in the park. Making out near the elevator like teenagers. Smiling everywhere together. Going to the gym together.
Angie is nothing about noises. She loved the couple. They were as nice as they could After two minutes of conversation, they parted.
Part of Angie smiled at how stricken they were with each other. Young, magical love. But part of it reminded her of what she still longed for. It was hard not to notice the juxtaposition of these two sex-kittens howling into the wee hours while she watched sitcoms and shared snacks with her long-time-husband.
She continued hearing them having sex at least once a week. Soft orgasmic moans pushing through the wall.
This continued for another year, their passion never seemed to die. Angie felt jealousy as her husband vegetated in the front of the TV. Smiling at her with that same stupid grin she’d fallen for many years ago. She couldn’t help but smile back. She did love him.
A few months later, she suddenly realized something. Somewhere along the way the moaning had stopped. She hadn’t heard it in quite a while.
And when she thought about it again, she also hadn’t seen that young too-cute couple holding hands walking, hanging out in the lobby, being touchy-feely. She’d seen the girlfriend. But not the boyfriend.
Part of her missed that jealousy she felt towards them. She wondered what had happened to the couple.
Months later, she finally bumped into the girlfriend in the elevator. The girlfriend looked different. A bit sunken in the face. Something seemed off.
Angie struck up a conversation. Working her way to it.
Then Angie smiled and asked, “So how’s your boyfriend doing?”
The girl suddenly grew flat across her face, a bit uncomfortable, forcing a smile that masked a deep sadness, “I’m sorry – I guess I should have told you. He passed – he was… in a terrible car accident. A truck lost control.”
Angie – felt mortified. Shock rolling across her body.
The young, sad, beautiful woman reassured her it was okay. She apologized to Angie for not saying anything, explaining how difficult it had all been.
It happens over and over again. Life comes and cruelly takes things from us, reminding us how fragile our time is on this Earth.
Angie got home that day, saw her husband waiting for her, and was never more grateful for that pot-bellied man and his stupid grin, that she’d fallen in love with all those years ago. http://bit.ly/2LP6X6P