As she moved the excessive pillows off the bed, I stood near the window, staring out over the cookie-cutter neighborhood. She embraced me from behind,...holding me at my hips and kissing my neck and ear. “I’ve been craving you for the longest time,” she breathed. Her hands moved over my stomach and her fingers started trailing into the waistband of my yoga pants. I turned around to face her before she got too far.I held her close, one hand on her back on the other hand gently gliding over her. We selected a table, sat down and two coffees were brought to us by the now smiling woman. Without even thinking about it, Gretchen chose the chair facing the coffee bar and the wall and I went around the table and took the chair facing the door. Muscle memory doesn't forget. This was a ritual we had practiced thousands, maybe millions, of times over the course of twenty-four years of marriage. I had to face the door. This was a leftover nervous 'tic', if you will, from a tour of duty in. More

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