My hands were stained with the evidence of my guilt. There was no way of turning back the grains of time and undoing my sin; not even if I’d wanted to… which I wasn’t sure I did.
I had tried to resist. But passion is hard to endure. The past few days I had done everything I could to deny my flesh. The long walks hadn’t helped. Neither had the hour spent on the treadmill. Nothing helped. The storm inside my mind had built for days… weeks before I broke. That’s how the Grand Canyon was formed, you know. Little by little, even solid rock can be reduced to nothing by constant pressure. Am I supposed to be stronger than the Earth itself?
Guilt consumed me. I now knew my few moments of gratification weren’t worth the strain this moment would put on our marriage. I wiped my hands off on a towel that had fallen to the floor beside the chair where I now sat. The towel was darkened from the sticky mess that now covered it. Its white pureness was now as black as my own soul.
That’s when I heard the door opening and her footsteps nearing. I had been so focused on my shame that I hadn’t realized my wife had entered the room. Now it was too late. I was caught. I had promised her I wouldn’t do it again… I was so very weak.
There she stood. Her warm blues eyes dripped with her pain.
“You promised this wouldn’t happen again.” Her whisper was louder than any angry scream. I had failed. I couldn’t argue.
I looked up and with a choked voice said the only thing that came to mind. “I’ll buy you another Snicker. I promise.”