The Woman From Bratislava (2011) - Plot & Excerpts
Only once he had reached out an arm and touched Lise’s warm, bare thigh under her short nightie and felt her, still half asleep, take his hand, did he feel that daily, almost unreasonably satisfying feeling of happiness. Unreasonable, because, he thought to himself in the seconds between sleep and consciousness, there had to be a price to pay for such happiness. This northern-European sense of guilt evaporated, however, as soon as he was fully awake. And that did not take long. He had never lost the old habit from his army days of wakening early and being instantly and fully alert. But these days he would lie for a while, running his hand over Lise’s swollen belly, hearing and feeling her sigh voluptuously – and, if he was lucky, discerning a kick of life from the baby inside her. Her skin was soft and warm and moist, over her drum-tight stomach it felt smooth as velvet under his hand. The bare breasts inside her nightie were taut and ready for breastfeeding.
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