A harsh breath exits him as he pulls me back to him, gripping me so close as if he blinked, this dream would disappear. I clutch him to me just as tightly, preparing myself for what’s to come—for what’s left to face. The burden made more bearable and then forgotten as he takes me again on that hillside. Thrusting into me, harder and deeper each time, his eyes holding mine during every second, strengthening me as his long-ago spoken promises write themselves into my flesh. Branded permanently into my heart which pounds unguarded against his. He presses himself into me as he kisses away the tears he causes with his intense lovemaking and my release, some of it mental, much of it physical, while murmuring “forever” against my elated cries.
And then he takes me again.
And one last time on our merged clouds before we drift away together.
Chapter Fifty
DELPHINE
WINTER 2014
“LEAN INTO IT, Delphine,” Regina encourages as my mind whispers along the memory while fear threatens to rob me of it.
“Lean in,” she repeats evenly, “and tell me where you are.”
“The kitchen,” I relay as anxiety fills me.
Nerves firing, I take a numbing sip before putting the finishing touches on dinner as Alain showers. The shift in him this last week has me on edge.
“Delphine. Tell me what’s happening right now.”
“I’m cooking dinner. But something isn’t right. Alain is not acting right.”
Studying the notes from Alain’s latest meeting where they lay on the kitchen table, I sense him behind me before stubbing my cigarette out in the marble ashtray. “Oh, good, dinner is almost ready.”
Turning, I see Alain dressed, his hair still damp from the shower, but it’s the box he’s holding that has dread settling over me. Especially when he raises condemning eyes to mine.
“He found them.”
“Found what?” Regina asks.
“What are these?” Alain asks as I eye the box I hid in the back of my closet a week ago. Lead coats my stomach as his eyes lower a fraction in speculation. A look I dread. A look I know far too well. Is this what his behavior has been about? Relieved that this may be the totality of his suspicions, I eye the box.
“Those are my new Doc Martens,” I tell him simply.
“When did you buy them?”
“I didn’t. They were given to me by a friend.”
“What friend?”
“A friend from work, you know Diane,” I relay passively just as a sharp knock sounds on the storm door.
“Ello,” Ormand greets, walking in and shaking off the rain from the downpour outside. I fight not to close my eyes due to the weight of Alain’s unrelenting stare as tension starts to roll off my husband. Tension which mounts as he turns to greet Ormand, who lowers his own eyes to the box in Alain’s hands.
“Breathe, Delphine, tell me what is happening now,” Regina prompts.
“Ormand is h-here. His ... expression—he is gloating. Alain is going to know. I can see it in his eyes. He’s fed up.”
“Why is Ormand fed up, Delphine?”
“H-he wants me to l-leave Alain for him. He is going to tell Alain. I can feel it.”
“Ah, Delphine,” Ormand speaks, “so you finally showed him the boots I brought you. Don’t worry, Alain,” he assures with an overenthusiastic clap on my husband’s back. One that makes me flinch. “I got them so cheap.”
“Delphine, I’m right here,” Regina whispers as I start to shake uncontrollably. “You are safe. Tell me what’s happening.”
My mind whispers back out of those tense moments as I lean in. Frustration threatens, but I breathe at Regina’s command for long seconds before I’m granted a flash of myself in my bedroom. Twisting the coiled phone cord in my hand while staring at the lock on the bedroom door.