Chapter 27 #2
His words hung heavy in the air as he patiently waited for her answer. “Would it?”
“I admit that I missed you.”
“Only missed?”
“I ... I ...” Defeated by his continual insistence and the veracity of his claims, she dropped her chin to her chest. “I ... this is impossible, but I can’t lie to you no matter how hard I try to hide what I feel.
” He broke her. Her lip trembled. “I do love you, so much that it hurts!” she cried.
“There would be no joy, ever.” She gazed into his eyes, then kissed him softly, longingly as though it were the first and last time, pouring her soul onto his lips.
Their past disappeared in confessions and a passionate kiss filled with absolution and their innate need for the other.
Rising from the floor, William offered her his hand just as he had on the dance floor at the wedding. “Lizzy, let’s freeze time today.”
“We shouldn’t,” she softly said, yet wanted nothing more than to make love to him.
“We should,” he replied. “I don’t care about anything or anyone other than us, here and now.”
His kisses trailed her neck as he dropped the robe from her shoulders. Every part of her tingled in delight from the touch of his lips, his hands, the intonation in his voice, and the anticipation of being loved by him again.
“I need to know ...” he said, “Was it real on the beach or had I just wanted it so much that I imagined it?”
“It was real ... so amazingly real. It was the most erotic night of my life since we parted.”
He graced her with a beaming smile, which turned to a quizzical brow. “But you left.”
“I didn’t want to, but after we made love a second time at sunrise, I saw Carrie coming down the beach. I ran off, feeling so guilty for betraying her and having taken advantage of you in the state you were in. I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. You brought me back to life.” He lifted her left hand to his lips, kissing her ring finger. “Where’s the ring?” he asked.
“I called the wedding off. We broke up before I left for Paris.”
Relief seemed to cross his expression, then he kissed her deeply, ardently.
Leading her to the master bedroom, he took things slow, kissing her, touching her through her nightie, running his fingers through her hair.
His soft words of adoration and reacquaintance filled her empty heart and soul, shutting out reality and those waiting for them in New York.
All that mattered was this moment, just like that night on the beach.
Time had stopped, but her beating heart worked overtime.
Undressing each other, they stood beside the open window, backdropped by the Eiffel Tower.
Not since their first time had her desire to feel him inside her been this intense.
She felt like a teenager again, allowing raging hormones and pent-up yearning to embrace forbidden sex.
This once-in-a-lifetime opportunity would never come again.
William, a principled man of integrity, wanted her despite their rocky past and the commitment he’d made to another. Stepping back in time, she was all-in.
“Our business relationship is hereby officially terminated, Mr. Darcy,” she breathed.
“Tell me this isn’t a dream,” he said gazing into her eyes.
“It’s real. Unfathomably real.”
He kissed her, then whispered. “Promise me you won’t leave me tomorrow.”
“I promise.”
They spent Independence Day setting off their own fireworks, alternating between lounging in bed and sitting on the terrace.
There had been so much to catch up on: her time at school, many trips down Memory Lane, revisiting the fun times they had, and laughing about his ebike experience.
They discussed Pemberley and his rise to fame and plans for slowing down.
She shared that she’d stopped painting after word came that Anne died, and he expressed a desire to paint again with earnestness now that his muse had come back to him.
In the dark, she watched him slumber with a peaceful look on his face. An earlier conversation touched her so deeply that it would be forever etched onto her heart and mind.
Lying beside her, William lounged on a terrace chaise, eyes closed, absorbing the warmth of the sun and the respite.
“Did you know she was sick, Lizzy?” he asked out of the blue.
“I did not. I mean, that Christmas I suspected she was unwell, but everyone at school had the flu. I did ask her, but she said she was fine.”
“I didn’t notice anything.”
“How could you? You were putting in an insane amount of work hours and after-hour client holiday functions for Pemberley and working on your jury show submissions, all the while trying to have a relationship. It was a lot to juggle at once.”
Finally, he turned his head to look at her. “Then what was my excuse after you left, and after the submissions, and when the holidays were over?”
“Life, William. Don’t beat yourself up. Anne was very private and clearly wanted to hide the cancer from her loved ones—and she did it well. It wasn’t your fault. It was her decision.”
“No. That’s not good enough. After you left, I became a self-absorbed, pitiful drunk for three and a half months. And by then, my mother was stage four, and I was a barely recovered alcoholic working micromanaged ninety-hour weeks to appease my father. Six months later, she went into hospice.”
She got up from the chaise and sat beside him, taking his hand in hers. His eyes brimmed with unusual tears, prompting her tears to surface. How could she possibly help him heal a wound he’d been carrying for so long? What could she say?
“I’m still angry with her for not telling me. We shared everything.” He choked back a sob, struggling to keep his emotions in check.
Placing her hand on his cheek she softly soothed him.
“Babe, we may have treated her differently had we known, and she didn’t want that.
There was nothing you could have done more than what you did by loving her fully, every day, and sharing every aspect of your life.
She was so proud of you. That’s how she wanted to leave this world.
” She rested her head on his chest and wrapped her arms around him. “She’s still with you, my love.”
William pulled her up to him and held her tightly.
“Her last words were about you and me. She wanted me to follow you to Paris. It shouldn’t have taken as long as it did.”
She kissed his chin. “Sometimes we just get in the way of ourselves and can’t move on from trauma as quickly as we expect. I’m sure she’s grinning from heaven.”
“Yeah, she is.” Closing his eyes again, he said, “Losing Mom after losing you destroyed me. Apart from you, she was the only one who knew me, the real me, and genuinely loved me for me.”
“There is so much to love.”
“She knew you would see what I kept hidden inside.” He raised her chin and held her gaze in his. “Now I understand why she was so eager for us to date. She must have known about the cancer when she introduced us. That day, she was plugging for grandchildren.”
Softly smiling she admitted, “She once told me not to wait too long, that children were amazing gifts, and that our children would be very special.”
“Mom loved you like a daughter.”
“And I loved her like the mother I never had.”
That singular moment of sharing their vulnerabilities told her that they were still soul-bonded.
He had shared his innermost emotions, something so precious and rare.
There was still so much to discuss about Anne and his drinking, but she didn’t press, and he didn’t offer.
They just held each other’s silent confidence and shared grief within their tight embrace.
Much like they had been when they were dating before, they emotionally connected on a level way beyond physical intimacy.
With the sun streaming down upon them, they had made love twice, later contentedly falling asleep wrapped around the other.
Where a hole had once dwelled, her soul had filled with joy at their reunion, but two elephants in the room weighed down her thoughts: Carrie and Jane.
At about one in the morning, she slipped out of bed and donned her robe.
Her heart leapt, gazing down at him fast asleep.
Drawn to the moonlight on the terrace, she lay on the chaise, captivated by the Eiffel’s dazzling lights in the distance.
Despite words of mutual love and erotic acts, she had yet to hear William say anything about calling off his wedding, and she couldn’t bring herself to ask.
“Hey, there,” William softly said from the open door.
“Hi. I’m sorry I woke you.”
“Come back to bed?”
“Soon. It’s such a beautiful night.”
“Can I join you?”
“I would think you’re sick of me by now.”
“Not in the least.” He softly smiled, then walked onto the terrace, wearing boxer shorts. With a wave of his hand, he indicated for her to move down the chaise so he could sit behind her with her back leaning against his chest.
In silence, they watched the lights’ ten-minute dance on the Iron Lady, his hand slipping beneath her silken robe. Absentmindedly, he caressed her breast.
“Stay with me a few more days, Lizzy.”
“But ... what will you tell Caroline?”
“I have a feeling she knows what coming here would lead to,” he said.
“Why? I find it ... peculiar, especially since she knows we have a history.”
“I agree. I can’t reconcile her insane jealousy over you and her willingness to bring us together over a rapacious desire for a painting. I mean, I know she’s materialistic, but she knows how in love with you I was. Maybe this was her plan all along.”
“Was in love?”
“Am in love.”
She grinned. “Whatever her reason, I owe her big time.”
He kissed her head. “Say you’ll stay with me at least a few more days, then I’ll fly you home on the charter with the painting.”
“I’ll stay for as long as you want to be together.”
“Then, that’s forever, and it’s still not long enough.”