Chapter Twenty-Two #3
“If I could do it over again, I would do things differently. You weren’t wrong, Owen.
I looked forward to your letters every week, too.
I missed you a great deal when you were gone.
I thought that I wanted independence, but that was before we spent time together, before you sent m all those wonderful letters.
You shared your life with me, and I appreciate that so much, I truly do.
But it’s hard for me to share myself because I have spent my entire life hiding it from my disapproving parents.
But I don’t like the way things are between us, Owen. I want to close the distance.”
Owen understood that. Yes, there’d been sexual attraction between them, but they’d connected during their honeymoon, before they’d ever exchanged a letter. And then, like a fool, he’d left.
“If we forgave each other, what would you want our future to be? And please be honest with me.”
She wiped her eyes and then looked up at him.
“I want us to be together. I want us to raise Dafydd together. I want you to be a part of Dafydd’s life, because he deserves to have a father who cares about him, who accepts him.
I mean…well, he’s only a month old, I don’t know what he deserves or not yet, I suppose, but I love him so much, and I want you to love him, too. That’s what I want.”
“Would you come with me to London if I needed to return?”
“If you were going to be away for months, then yes. This last week has been so hard because I’m so happy to have you home, but you’re not really here.
And…” She started to cry again. “It’s been so hard.
I don’t remember his birth. I started to feel faint, and I suppose I passed out.
And I couldn’t get out of bed for a few days.
I am so grateful for everyone’s help, but you weren’t here, and you should have been.
But you weren’t, because of me, and I will never forgive myself for it.
I didn’t understand my own feelings until he was here and you were here and I’m so sorry… ”
Owen lost his nerve and pulled her into his arms. She put her arms around him and pressed her face into his shoulder. He stroked her hair.
“Grace. I forgive you. I came here wanting to have a marriage, and that is still what I want. I want to be with you and I want to raise Dafydd, and I will drag both of you all over this bloody island if that’s what it takes for us to be together.
I am so sorry, Grace. I am sorry this has been so difficult for you.
I am sorry I wasn’t more understanding. I’m sorry if I made everything worse.
It was never my intention to make you feel bad. I was stunned by it all, I suppose.”
She was crying too hard to speak, so Owen held her. He didn’t know that they’d spent enough time together to fall in love, but the last year had changed him, that was for certain. He’d never thought he truly wanted a wife or a son, but now he couldn’t imagine living without them.
She sat up and pulled away slightly. “Can we…well, not start over, but can we move forward?”
“Yes.”
They looked at each other for a long moment. Grace had apparently taken to wearing her hair loose around her shoulders, and Owen loved her shiny blond locks. He ran his fingers through one that rested on her shoulder. Then he cupped her cheek and kissed her.
He thought about his lonely nights London, about the glorious nights of their honeymoon, about everything he imagined they’d do together in the future. He thought about what Morfudd said.
He pulled away. “It was never my intention to punish you. I know things have been difficult. I just needed to work out my own feelings. But I think that, if we are to move forward, we must talk to each other. We must say what we feel and think. We must always be honest and tell the whole truth. I swear to you, Grace, that though I am a flawed man, I will always be fully honest with you. If you swear the same, then I think we can have a very good marriage.”
“I promise, Owen.”
He believed her. He kissed her again. And was like coming home. Grace put her arms around him and Owen held her close. This was an embrace, an understanding, a promise.
Then Grace pulled back. “Owen, I… I hope you know, I want to be able to…that is, I am in no rush to have more children, but I—”
“No need to worry about that now.”
“I would like to lie with you again. But I meant to say, I need a little more time.”
“That is all right. I will wait for you to be ready. I am not in a rush.”
Grace balked. “Do you not want me?”
Oh. Perhaps he’d been too hasty in telling her he would wait.
“Of course I want you. All I thought about when I was in London was being with you again. At least I can say that, when Dafydd was conceived, you and I were enjoying each other. I would of course love to do that again very soon. I merely meant, I do not wish to push you into doing anything you are not ready for.”
“The worst part about all of this is that you are a kind-hearted man, Owen Thomas, and I will spend the rest of my life trying to be worthy of you.”
“You are worthy, Grace.” He kissed her again, but somewhere in the distance, he heard the baby cry. “Oh, perhaps he is feeling left out.”
Grace let out a watery laugh. “Impeccable timing.”
“What do you suppose he wants? Is it mealtime? Does he need a fresh nappy?”
“It’s likely one of those.”
“Do you see how quickly I learn?”
Grace laughed and pushed herself off the bed. “I shall fetch him.”
“I shall help, then.”