She kisses her husband, whispers her love, gets nary a response.
She finds herself back to the last days of her ill-fated college romance.
How icky she felt toward the unfortunate boyfriend’s kisses! Whereas his loving gaze used to make her blush, soon it made her feel like kicking him on the shin.
She wept from guilt, reading his letter that told of how much she’d hurt him. She just couldn’t help herself.
It hurts like hell now to be at the receiving end of such aversion, to be deemed repugnant. She finally knows better, but she’s decades too late.