John had always loved watching me dance for him. He could sit on his chair for hours while I was moving my hips. He always told me that I cooked like Ramsay but danced like a stripper. He was enchanted by my body and how I moved it.
We had been together for ages. He was quite a lot older than me, but it never bothered me. It had been a bit of a scandal when we got together – after all, he was an older, married boss of mine. But his marriage was practically dead by the point I came into picture. We married soon after his divorce was finalized.
We never had kids together. John had two kids from his marriage, a son and a daughter. They lived half the time with us, half the time with their mother. Though they were already teenagers when we got together. We did get along quite nice and had our own little routines. I didn’t really miss having kids of my own.
Even when I started getting old and grey, John still found me as the sexiest woman alive. And even after twenty years, I would still dance for him every night. He was sitting in his favorite chair, watching tv. His dinner was next to him, untouched like every night lately. I turned the tv off and took the place straight in front of him.
I took the remote and put on a mix cd. Slowly I started rotating my hips, running my hands over my body. I knew I had his full attention now. I could see a wry smile on his face, he was kind of leaning over. I turned around and bend over – I wanted him to get a full view of my assets.
Suddenly I got a flash back of that night. I heard John screaming, the men running into our house. Just like it was happening in reality. I knew it was just a flash back but it felt so real. I stopped dancing and I leaned on the table. ”Don’t worry, John, I’ll be fine in a sec”, I beeped.
I resumed dancing. I changed the music into something more upbeat. I thought it’d lift my spirits. It worked. I was dancing like there was no tomorrow. After my little blunder, I wanted to give John a show he’d never forget.
Then it hit again. A flash back. I saw the flash from the knife. I heard John grunt as it sank into his abdomen. I ran to him, I told the men to take whatever they wanted, just please let him live. They ransacked our house, I dragged John into his favorite chair. I was trying to stop the bleeding. I needed him to live. I was begging him to stay with me. But he was gone.
I left him in the chair. I was devastated. I screamed on the floor. The men exited the house, after taking anything that was worth something. I didn’t care. They had already taken what mattered to me the most – they had taken the life of the man I loved.
I wasn’t ready to let go. I needed John with me. I left him in the chair, covered his lower body with a blanket so I didn’t have to see the bloodied hole in his t-shirt. I carried on like normal. I talked to him, I touched him, I kissed him. He was just a bit more quite, a bit more grey and a bit colder. But nevertheless, he was still John.
I sprayed another layer of Febreze on him and turned the stereo up. I started dancing. Like I did every night for him.