Karen Rose - I’m Watching You

„My apartment,“ Abe said firmly. Kristen was in no mood to disagree and a few minutes later they were sitting in the cab of his SUV, staring at his parents’ house. Abe hadn’t started the engine and the quiet was almost deafening. Kristen knew he’d been wrestling with the unresolved issues as well. It would appear the time of reckoning had arrived.

„We need to talk, Kristen,“ he said quietly, „but not here.“ In silence he drove to the apartment she’d seen only once, the morning after she’d been attacked in her room. Abe’s place was empty and sterile and Kristen found she dreaded it almost as much as returning to her own house. But perhaps it was the conversation she dreaded more than the location.

He took her coat and turned on some lights. Flipped a switch and the gas fireplace ignited with a whoosh. He stood with his back to her for a long moment while she waited.

„Last night I told you I loved you,“ he said abruptly and she was acutely conscious that he hadn’t said so since. „You said you loved me.“ He turned and focused those piercing blue eyes on her face. „Did you mean it?“

Kristen swallowed. „Yes.“

His eyes flashed. „What did you think I would say, Kristen? That my love was conditional? I love you, but only if you bear my children? That if you can’t, the deal is off?“

Kristen’s eyes stung at his brusque tone. „I told you I’d disappoint you.“

He looked up at the ceiling, blew out a sigh. „I’m disappointed,“ he admitted, then brought his gaze back down to hers. „But not with you.“ He crossed the distance between them and put his arms around her. „Never with you. How can I make you believe that?“

His arms were around her again and suddenly it was all too much. The dam broke and the tears rushed and she grabbed handfuls of his shirt and held on. And cried and cried. He scooped her up and settled her on his lap on the sofa and held her until the wave passed and the tears dwindled to a trickle. He lifted her chin and kissed her then, long and deep and… permanent. That’s what it was. Permanence. Possession. His stake.

Her breath shuddered out in relief. „I’m sorry, Abe. I wish I could change it, but I can’t.“

He delved into her eyes, his gaze intense. „We are who we are because of what we’ve been through, Kristen, and we can’t go back and change things, no matter how hard we wish. We are where we are because of what we’ve been through. Somehow, our lives came together. We’re together. And right here, right now, I wouldn’t change a thing.“

His face became blurry and she blinked, sending tears down her cheeks. „And later? When you want a child of your own?“

„Any child we have will be a child of our own. We can adopt. I wanted to say that this morning, but I didn’t think you wanted to hear it then.“

„There are long waiting periods,“ she murmured, still unwilling to let herself entirely believe what seemed too perfect to be true. „It’s not easy to adopt a baby.“

„Who said anything about a baby?“ he responded gently. „There are children everywhere that need homes, families to love them. We can be a family, Kristen. You and me. Even if we never biologically reproduce, I love you. Even if we never have any children, I love you.“ He kissed her mouth so tenderly she thought her heart would break. „Marry me.“

Marriage . To a man with a heart like Abe’s. It was more than she’d ever dared to hope for. „Are you sure, Abe?“ Please be sure. Please .

„I’m very sure.“ He said it quietly, so that it rumbled from deep within his chest.

„I love you,“ she whispered, tracing his lips with her finger, watching his eyes heat. „I never believed I’d ever find anyone like you. I just want you to be happy.“

His eyes burned, blue as flames, and she wondered how she ever could have thought them cold. „Answer the question, Counselor.“

She smiled up into his face. „Yes.“

His shoulders sagged and she realized he hadn’t been entirely sure she’d say yes. Abruptly he rose, swinging her to her feet. Without saying a word he switched on the big-screen TV, changing stations while she watched, bewildered. Finally he came to the end of the stations, to the ones that only played music to solid background screens. He stopped changing channels and a smooth voice filled the room. Oldies. Turning, he held out his hand. „Dance with me.“

She walked into his arms and they held one another, swaying to the music. She let herself drift in the sheer nearness of him until her back hit the wall. Abe’s body pressed against her, hot and hard and very ready.

„Are you hungry?“ he asked and she looked up and drew a quick breath. He was, but not for food. It was evident. In so many ways.

Her lips curved as she remembered the first time they’d made love and he’d told her how it would be. First dinner, then a dance, then… Even if she were hungry, she’d lie. „No.“

„Good.“ He kissed her until the room spun. „I didn’t want to have to cook for you first.“

Her eyes danced up at him as he lifted his head. „But I do have a taste for dessert.“

His smile sent her pulse skyrocketing. „So do I, Counselor. So do I.“

Saturday, July 17,

1:30 p.m.

Abe tightened the final screw in the easel the box claimed would take only ten minutes to assemble, but in reality had required two hours. That the easel arrived with a video that described assembly and operation instructions should have been his first clue that this would be harder than it looked. But it didn’t matter. It was a present for Kristen.

The whole room was a present for Kristen.

It was the spare bedroom in the house they’d closed on just the week before. He’d turned it into an art studio, complete with all the paints she could ever want. The clerk at the art store nearly kissed him, Abe thought wryly, with good cause. Paints were damn expensive. But again, it didn’t matter. It was a present for Kristen and they could afford it now that they no longer had to worry about the mortgage on her old house.

Luckily Kristen’s old house had sold quickly, Annie helping with more than a few required repairs. Like rewall-papering the living room and hastily building a new kitchen. Still, time and expense aside, both Kristen and her old neighbors were happy the house now held a new couple who found the house’s recent history compelling. The husband was a reporter, the wife a writer. Abe shuddered. Let them have the house and good riddance.

Owen’s house had been sold as well, again to people who were welcome to it. He’d left it to Kristen with the stipulation she keep a portion of the proceeds from its sale and donate the rest to the community center where Leah and Timothy had socialized. She’d donated the portion to the community center, then used the rest to set up a fund for Kaplan’s child and Vincent’s ongoing physical therapy. Vincent had proved tougher than they’d thought, and though he’d never work in a diner again, with therapy he could have a somewhat normal life.

Abe stood back, looking at his handiwork. Double-masted with a hand crank to raise and lower her canvases, the easel could hold a canvas up to eight feet tall. Abe looked around at the canvases he’d pulled from the storage shed in Kristen’s old backyard. It had been what she’d hidden out there, locked with the enormous padlock. The canvases she’d completed in Italy and during her early years as an art major, portraits and landscapes so stunning they made his heart clench. Of course, he was the least little bit biased.

His wife was gifted. On so many levels. Her most recent work in progress sat on a makeshift easel in the corner of the room. She’d captured the beauty of Florence so effortlessly. It was the view from the hotel room where they’d honeymooned, making the piece that much more special.