Maria waited, tracking the number every hour or so on the post office tab held constantly open for updates. It had remained stuck on 'dispatched' for two entire days. Oh he'd be pissed! Irked and vexed and their other favorite word - ruing the day he ever met her, ruing it bad as soon as he received her letter. She'd done the unthinkable after all, the one thing she knew he would never accept.

Losing control was not his thing, part of why she remained tethered to him on this screen. Admiring - hell - needing this absolute control over her. By him. The first man she was not afraid to surrender her being to; the first time she was within, not gazing from above, not outside nor observing from a distance but within, ceding to him without fear and without the feeling of walls enclosing - restricting her breathing... In fact, she could not now properly breathe unless she felt tethered to him?

There had been no other option really. Despite the love she felt - or perhaps to spite it, to have it gone from her, have it filled instead by that emptiness she'd dwelled in for so long? That emptiness had brought her peace, a resignation of sorts, a placid daily living. Now? Now she was floundering between bouts of extreme - what one might call desire to be with... after the many years of abstinence - and bouts of fear. The fear the worst, the fear eating her insides, gnawing even at those happy memories created, those middle of the night exchanges where she giggled like a teenager and-

'Mum! Everyone's ready, come on!'

'What?' Her oldest son stood in the doorway, layered as always these days in various tones of grey and black, a beanie plopped on his head covering his dark curls.

'Quit talking to your boyfriend. Grandpa's already in the car!'

'I'm not!'

'Whatever. Let's go!'

It was Friday damn it. She checked his time,and then looked again at the last message; the demented smile emoticon on the left bubble and her "No!" on the right. Damn it! He'd be asleep by the time she was back!

'Sweet ones as always,' she quickly typed before dashing from the room. Another nightly (from her to him) ritual since she knew how much he struggled with sleep, spying him peeking in on Facebook often hours after they'd said their goodnights.