Valerie Parv - Interrupted Lullaby

Questions she was far from ready to answer.

She found she ached to say yes more than she had wanted to do anything for a long time. To know the mind-shattering pleasure of his possession and to surrender utterly to his will, even as she commanded him, was a heaven she had dreamed of all the time they’d been apart.

Not that she hadn’t tried to put him out of her mind. Awake, she had almost succeeded. About her dreams she could do nothing. Instead of dulling her need for him, the long months of abstinence had sharpened her desire until it registered as an exquisite pleasure-pain sensation that ached to be satisfied.

But not tonight.

Not ever, if she had any sense. Her breath escaped in a sigh of frustration. When had she shown any sense around Zeke? This time she had little choice, she thought as she closed her jacket with shaking fingers and took an unsteady step away from him. It was only a few inches, but it felt like a vast gulf of emptiness opening between them.

“Am I going too fast for you?” he asked, sounding as strained as she felt.

If you could count the months of abstinence as fast, she thought ruefully. “No, it’s just…I don’t know how I feel about us anymore.”

His expression turned cold. “As I recall, you never did.”

The accusation in his tone shocked her out of her remaining torpor. “I wasn’t the one who went away and found someone else.”

Light broke across his strong features. She had forgotten the full force of his attractiveness, she thought distractedly. His dark hair was thick and full, curling slightly at the ends where it wanted a barber’s touch. In anger, his eyes looked like the sea in storm but the glint of gold reminded her of how they could sparkle wickedly at her, usually just before they made love. She closed her own eyes against the reminder. It would be a long time before she saw that look again, if ever.

“Is that what this is about?” he demanded, sounding furious. “It’s okay for you to send me away but not for me to find comfort somewhere else. What was I supposed to do? Wait until you made up your mind that I was worth making a few temporary sacrifices for? Or did you hope I’d come rushing back, unable to exist without you?”

Both options had occurred to her. Evidently only one of them to him. She dragged her fingers through her hair, mussing it. Her scalp felt tight and tense, good company for the rest of her. “I didn’t want anything from you that you weren’t prepared to offer freely, and I still don’t. You did the right thing finding someone else. I’m only sorry it didn’t last.” Then she wouldn’t have to deal with this.

Instead she would have to deal with knowing he was forever beyond her reach. She wasn’t sure which was the worse torment.

“Well, I did come back,” he said, startling her. “I tried moving on and it didn’t work. You can’t give to one person something you’ve already given to another, and Lucy sensed it. I decided to come back and find out if you felt the same way about me. Was I wrong?”

Say yes and end this now, she urged herself. Instead, what came out was a lame, “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know if you still care about me?”

He sounded so bitter that she wanted to weep. She kept her head high. When their baby died she had shed all the tears in the world for their child, for him and for herself. She had thought she had no tears left. Now, feeling her eyes grow heavy, she knew she did, but shedding them in front of him would be far too revealing. To herself or to him? The question caught her off guard, silencing her until she realized he was waiting for an answer.

“We can’t pick up where we left off,” she said with an honesty he couldn’t possibly understand. There were too many layers under what he thought he heard.

His generous mouth tightened into a hard line. “Can we pick up at all?”

“No.”

She hadn’t intended to be so forthright, but survival demanded it. If she said so much as another word, she would break down and admit that there was more than a chance. After what she had experienced in his arms tonight there was a bedrock certainty. And it was a luxury she couldn’t afford. One night with him would undo all the months of silence.

How could she tell him she had conceived and lost their baby? How would he react to being excluded from something he had every right to expect to share? Even now, she had trouble justifying it to herself. No matter how difficult he had made it, or how ill she had been at the beginning, she should have found a way to tell him. Now it was too late. Would he even believe the child had been his? He had been ready enough to blame her refusal to come with him on another man. She wasn’t sure he believed her denials even now.

There was only one thing she could do. It cost her almost more courage than she possessed to retrieve her bag and touch a hand to the side of his face in silent homage to what might have been. “Goodbye, Zeke,” she said, and made herself walk through the door.

Three days later, Tara knew she had done the right thing in walking away from Zeke, but couldn’t make herself feel good about it. She was babysitting for her sister-in-law, Carol, when the sound of the front door opening and closing told her that her sister-in-law had returned. Carol came into the room and dropped her briefcase on a side table. “Children asleep?”

“Finally.” Tara’s tone suggested it was an achievement.

Carol gave a wry smile. “I hope they didn’t give you too hard a time.”

“Of course not,” Tara assured her. “Cole might be at the Terrible Two stage, but he always makes me laugh. And Katie’s so sweet, calling me Tawa through the gap in her teeth. How can you refuse them anything?”

“I remind myself it’s for their own good.” Carol paused at the kitchen door. “Join me for lunch?”

Tara nodded. “I’m seeing a publisher this afternoon and having dinner with a potential benefactor for the foundation, but I’m free till then.”

“Another schmoozy dinner. How do you stand spending so much time with people whose only attractive feature is their bank balance?”

“It isn’t always the case. Some of them are sweet, and when it’s for the kids, it’s worth it,” Tara said.

“We’ve never really discussed it, but it can’t be easy for you, dealing with children every day. Even minding mine must be a strain.”

Tara let out a long sigh. “When I’m bathing them or playing with them, I sometimes feel such a longing for what might have been. Then I think how lucky I am to be an aunt to your two. They help in the healing process.”

“Children are like that,” Carol conceded, adding realistically, “especially when they’re asleep.”

“Then they’re positive angels,” Tara agreed, laughing.

“I don’t know why dramas always have to coincide with the nanny’s day off,” Carol went on. “Although if Mrs. McCarthy changes her will one more time, I swear I’ll hasten her end myself.”

Tara laughed. Her sister-in-law was a lawyer who had set up a practice at home while her children were young. The client in question was bedridden, but still feisty enough to enjoy the power her fortune gave her over her family. According to Carol, the woman changed her will at regular intervals to keep her clan under her thumb.

Tara perched on a stool and watched Carol prepare sandwiches with practiced ease. Her sister-in-law was one of six children, all younger than herself, so she was incredibly domesticated. She was also a good friend. Tara’s brother, Ben, reminded her frequently, that marrying Carol was an example of his dedication to pleasing his little sister.

Pleasing himself had nothing to do with it, she thought with humor. Ben was a doctor and had met Carol professionally when she defended a colleague in a malpractice lawsuit. Love at first sight, Ben had called it, when he wasn’t claiming he chose Carol so he’d have his own private lawyer on tap. Tara knew which reason she believed.