Page 71 of The Headmistress

“I mean, I know that you made me come three times tonight to make me forget.”

“Four. But who’s counting?” The smart-alec remark earned her a little tug on her hair, but then the deft fingers continued their combing, slowly, gently.

“Well, apparently you were, darling. Still, thank you. I needed all the distraction I could get and will probably need more by the time the night is over.” As the fingers stilled, Sam raised her face to peer into sad eyes.

“At your service, I’m sure.” But her joke did not land, for the eyes remained sad and gained a faraway look, and so Sam settled back into the warmth between neck and shoulder, inhaling jasmine and sweat and everything that was Magdalene.

“You know there were days, probably months, if not years, where I felt I didn’t have anyone else in the world. That by some will of the Fates, I was hated and shunned by everyone, everywhere I went. And it was George. Ruining my friendships, my relationships, building that reputation of the Unapproachable Queen Bitch.” Sam squeezed the slender torso and burrowed deeper, earning herself a kiss on the injured temple before Magdalene went on.

“I told you before, I have felt hunted by wolves all my life. She knew it too. She knew that I desperately wanted peace, security, safety. That living under the constant pressure of unseen eyes on me was slowly driving me mad. There was a time at Rodante, when I was convinced absolutely everyone hated me. That my husband was cheating on me. That my colleagues despised me. That my students were sending me hateful letters. Every single wolf in the world was stalking me, Sam. I remember telling her that. I remember that evening so well.”

“What did she say?”

“That she would give anything to make me happy. I found Timothy with his PA a week later. I should have seen the signs. I should have seen that George hadn’t been with anyone for years, that she had been involved in every single small and big event in my life for twenty years…”

“Stop, this is not on you.” For the second time, Sam raised her head from the haven of Magdalene’s skin. “Nobody could have seen it coming. Timothy made his own decisions in life. Yeah, he was set up, but he could have thrown his PA out of his bed the moment he found her there. This is not your fault. And George… When she was all you had, with all the wolves at your door, who can blame you for leaning on someone who was your only friend?”

“But she wasn’t my friend, Sam. She was the beast who stalked me half of my life.”

“And now you’ve slain the beast. You were magnificent that day.”

“I lost it there at the end. What I really wanted was to slap her across the face. I took in all she had to say and all she did to me, but the thought that she wanted you dead simply because I fell in love with you, that’s what broke me. I wanted to hurt her then, Sam.”

“And you did. Knowing that she will never see you again. That she will never stand in your glow, that is the worst punishment for her.”

“Ah, writing poetry about me again, darling?”

“I can’t help it. How can I? You’re everything.”

And as Sam looked on, happiness slowly filled the beloved angular face, the taut muscles of the jaw unclenching, the lines at her eyes smoothing, the brow unfurrowing, and the most brilliant smile overtaking the generous lips.

“I love making you smile.” Sam wasn’t aware she’d said it out loud, but the smile only grew brighter, and she was once again gathered to Magdalene’s chest.

“You’re my solace. These past months, when everything felt wrong, when things were falling apart under the weight of expectation, you were my succor. When I was afraid, when I was alone, you were my purpose, Sam.”

“And you say I’m the one writing poetry about you. You say these words and expect me not to be completely and utterly smitten?”

Another peel of laughter warmed Sam’s heart even more.

“Oh no, darling, I expect you to fall deeper, to love me more.”

“I’m still waiting to go splat, you know?”

At Magdalene’s noise of incomprehension, Sam explained.

“You know when you fall in love? First of all, where is it exactly that you’re falling? And at what point do you just smack into the bottom of whatever it is you’re falling into? Because I keep falling deeper and deeper every day and there seems to be no bottom to this well, and I’m wondering at what point I will go ‘smack’ and simply lay there, and look up at the heights I’ve fallen from and marvel at how amazing I feel about it all, despite being all broken and bruised.”

“You think I will break you, Sam?” The laughter was gone from the low, raspy voice.

“I know you wouldn’t do it intentionally.” Sam wondered, once again, about her own tendency to ruin things without even trying. Did she have to bring up how very insecure she was?

“You know, Timothy stopped by today.” Magdalene’s voice carried a nonchalance that Sam felt was just a touch forced.

“What a polite non sequitur.” Sam bit her lip and awaited whatever came next.

“I don’t think it is, darling, not at all. I hurt him. Maybe not intentionally but I did. I married him because he so wanted me when I thought that absolutely nobody ever would, and he was persistent and charming. But he did not make me happy, and very soon I realized that I never made him happy either. We tried hard and perhaps would have lasted much longer than we did had it not been for George, but we had an ugly ending, and we were not that way when we started.”

Sam watched shadows play on the beloved features. How much guilt did Magdalene carry because of George?

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