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Eight days.
The door has been locked for eight days, and if Ed was a lesser man, he would have burst through it long ago. But he lets Lorraine be, fruitlessly leaves food by the door every few hours on the off chance she’ll open the door, and just…waits.
Every single one of the past eight days has felt like a lifetime, and his heart aches in his chest because he just wants his wife. He wants to see her face, hold her in his arms, bury his nose in her dark curls and assure himself she was alright. The clock continues to tick through her self-imposed isolation as he sits in the kitchen, waiting, unsure of what to do with himself.
Judy was with Lorraine’s mother for the time being, and having his daughter so far away was as painful as not seeing his wife. He hated not having his family all under one roof, not being surrounded by his girls, and this felt like a kind of torture.
He’s contemplating making Lorraine another uneaten sandwich when he hears the creak of a door opening, and hope gallops in his chest.
Ed remains frozen at the table, listening to the sounds up the stairs; the door remains open, and after a moment, the steps creak with the weight of someone descending them. He exhales shakily, near tears in relief, and buries his face in his hands. It’s only the weight of Lorraine’s hand on his shoulder, small and familiar, that draws his head back up.
She looks tired, is the first thing he notices. Dark circles crest underneath her eyes, and her hair is dirty, which he knows she hates. She’s in one of his old Navy shirts and a pair of her softest pajama pants, wrapped in her robe, and the slippers Judy had helped him pick out as a Christmas gift last year.
“Hi,” she whispers, voice soft with disuse. Her palm moves to cup his unshaven cheek, nose scrunching at the feel of beard against her hand, and Ed leans into the touch, drinking it in.
“Hi,” he returns quietly, a hand touching her waist before he wrapped his arm fully around her, burying his face in her torso as Lorraine’s fingers bury themselves in his unkept hair. Her lips touch the top of his head as he held her against him, and they each breathe a little easier in each other’s embrace.
“Take a shower with me,” Lorraine’s request is soft and simple, and Ed pulls back to look at her. Studying her face, he can tell she doesn’t want to talk about why she’d sealed herself away- not yet, if ever. And he’d allow her that secret, if only because he was so grateful she’d returned to him.
“Alright, hon,” he answers, and lets her lift him to his feet, their fingers intertwining as Lorraine guided him up the stairs towards their bedroom.
Lorraine starts the water while Ed strips out of his clothing, throwing it in the hamper- for good measure, he strips the bed as well, pulling new sheets out and quickly putting them on the bed. When he steps into the steam-filled bathroom, Lorraine has shed her own clothing and was stepping under the hot spray. She beckoned to him to join her, and once she’d doused her hair, he slid in behind her, shutting the shower door securely.
Lorraine’s skin is warm beneath his skin as his hands slick over it, and they both shiver in delight at the sensation. It’s been too long, for both of them, and Ed inhales the scent of her damp skin deeply as Lorraine’s eyes go half-lidded in pleasure at his hands on her body.
“Let me wash your hair,” Ed requests, and Lorraine nods, turning her back to him as he reached for her shampoo bottle.
The dark strands unspool beneath his fingertips as he massaged in the shampoo, letting it lather under his hands until bubbles appeared. His nails scratched at her scalp, pulling a soft noise, almost like a purr, from the center of Lorraine’s chest.
“Rinse,” he murmurs, and Lorraine turned her hair into the spray, Ed’s fingers stroking through the wet strands until the water ran clear. “Twice?”
At her confirmation, he repeated the process until her hair was thoroughly cleaned, and Lorraine was sighing under his hands, arching back into him as his touch slipped down to her shoulders where he could feel the knots of tension near her spine. Replacing the shampoo bottle, he grabbed the body wash- a peach and white jasmine scent that he loved to inhale off her skin- and soaped up his palms before returning them to her skin.
Lorraine shivered in pleasure as his hands ran over her skin; sighed his name softly when they cupped her breasts, kneading softly until Lorraine gave a soft whimper. One hand remained on her chest, the other traveling down the soft swell of her belly to cup between her thighs.
“This okay?” Ed murmured, nosing at her ear, and when Lorraine gave a breathy yes in response, his palm drew flat to her cunt, the heel of his hand pressing tightly against the bud of her clit.
The sound she makes- soft and pleasured, not a trace of fear or pain like the last time he’d seen her- eases something in his soul. A part of him ached from the tension he’d been carrying for the last eight days, and the more he touched her, the more of her skin he held beneath his fingertips, the more that tension eased.
“Ed,” Lorraine sighs, pleasure-drenched, and it’s ambrosia to his ears. Her head falls back against his shoulder, nose brushing his jaw, and his fingers slick over her clit, wet with more than just the falling shower water. The other hand squeezes her breast, skin slick, and his thumb brushes her nipple until the pink skin puckers under his touch.
“Conditioner,” Ed pants, and a half-snorted giggle escapes Lorraine as Ed parts from her, grabbing the product and slicking some onto his hands before they returned to her hair, smoothing the conditioner through it. Lorraine lolled into his touches, muscles going pliant, and Ed kisses the hollow of her throat. “Three minutes.”
At that, Lorraine cups his cheeks in her hands and lifts his gaze up to hers, eyes full of tenderness.
“You’re too good to me,” she murmurs, and Ed drags his thumb along her lower lip, shaking his head.
“Only as good as you deserve, darlin’,” he replies, and something in Lorraine’s expression softens immeasurably.
Together, they washed his body while they waited for the conditioner to set, and then Ed carefully rinsed it from the brunette strands. The water was beginning to cool when Ed turned the dial to shut it off, and grabbed a towel, wrapping it around Lorraine and beginning to dry her off. Once he was satisfied she was no longer sopping, he wrapped a towel around his own waist, and guided Lorraine out of the shower stall.
They both brushed their teeth in the twin sinks, and Lorraine, still wrapped in her towel, took the blow dryer to the ends of her hair so it was no longer soaking wet.
“You changed the sheets,” she commented softly once they were in the bedroom, and turned to Ed with the softest, fondest smile. He shrugged, wiping water from the back of his neck.
“Figured you’d want new ones on the bed,” he replied, and Lorraine moved to his side, kissing his cheek.
“I do,” she whispered, and then tugged at his towel, letting the damp fabric fall to the floor and leaving him bare. “Come to bed, Ed.”
Her own towel fell to the floor beside his, and the fact that she wasn’t rushing to throw them into the hamper told him everything he needed to know about her need. He joined her on the bed- on their bed- and tugged her naked body into his, finally lowering his head to hers in a thorough kiss. She tasted like mint toothpaste and home, and he delved further into her mouth, moaning softly as her hands raked through his hair, musing it further.
The sensation of her skin on his was like a balm over every cracked, aching part of his soul, and Ed smoothed his hands over her warm skin greedily. Lorraine was just as greedy in return, though- her fingers and nails stroked over his body, touching him in all the places he ached for her.
When he eased inside her, the sensation of being joined was nearly overwhelming. Lorraine touched him at every point possible except their lips- they didn’t kiss, but rather shared air, eyes locked as they moved with a desperation Ed hadn’t felt since the night before he’d shipped out, so many years ago. Lorraine blossomed beneath him, skin pink from the shower and exertion, and he buried himself in all her curves and edges.
“I love you,” he whispers, and swallows hard at the film of tears in his wife’s eyes. “I love you, Lorraine.”
Her hands touched his cheeks, stroking over the bones there then down to his jaw, before cupping the back of his neck. “I love you so much, Ed. I love you, I love you, I-”
She comes with the words on her lips, orgasm shuddering through her, and Ed is captivated just like he was every single time. Lorraine in orgasm is a sight to behold, and he’s so god damn lucky he’s the only one privileged enough to see it. He follows soon after, spilling inside her with a reverent whisper of her name, lips pressed to her throat.
They collapse together, unwilling to part despite the practicalities of gravity, and Ed knows they’ll likely need to shower again, but he doesn’t care. Lorraine breathes against him, slow and steady and signaling she’s close to sleep. It’s been over a week since he’s slept beside her, and suddenly it was all he wanted.
“Baby,” he whispers, and Lorraine hums sleepily in response. “C’mon, let’s clean up before we nap.”
After the briefest of cleanups, they’re settled back beneath the sheets, still naked, entirely wrapped up in each other.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Ed asks softly, Lorraine’s head buried under his chin and arms tight around his body. He feels her shake her head, her grip on him tightening, and he draws a soothing hand down her spine. “Okay. Okay, you don’t have to, hon.”
He feels her drift off soon after, clearly exhausted, and feels elated relief at knowing he didn’t have another night of sleeping alone ahead of him. Ed buried a kiss in Lorraine’s soft curls, smelling of shampoo and sex, and closes his own eyes.
They’d face tomorrow together.