The dream state carried on as Sterling shifted painfully once more. Once again he was standing in the door way of her bed chambers... she, still masked, as with a soft sigh she sat herself down upon the foot of the bed.
Hesitantly he took a step into the room but still not far enough within to easily allow no chance of retreat. He was certainly being invited further but the drink was too busy fusing one thought with another and he could not yet determine if he should allow himself to subcum to fleshly passions...
... for the first and foremost thought that continued to resurface was that of his late wife Tess. Oh, how he missed her. Missed everything about her; her voice in the morning, her warmth at night, even her argumentative nature which he always seemed to attribute to her elusive past. Yet, when she was alone with him, he truly knew her heart, her mind, her deepest feelings, that, which she had held in for so long. It hadn't been until she married him that she felt at ease with openly demonstrating her expressions of love for him. One single kiss from her upon his arrival home meant more to him then the gifts she bestowed upon him. She was everything to him…the very breath he himself drew upon to live. He had almost whispered her name when he heard the masked woman gently call out "Sir?". He stirred from his reverie and looked at her, momentarialy wondering who she was and how he found himself now in her presence. The glow of the candle light made her eyes shine brightly. It was then he took another step inward and closed and locked the door behind him.