David went stiff, growing taller, his hands stopping short of the scrolls they were about to grab.
“I knew it,” Jason said. “You two know more than you’re letting on.”
“When it’s your concern, brother, I will include you.”
I slapped David’s arm. “Be nice. Jason can know if he wants.”
“Well, Safia won’t get the chance to insert herself into our child. Here.” He handed a pile of scrolls to Jason. “Put these away.”
Jason just groaned, grabbing another stack of paper off the lamp table as he walked away.
When the storage room door closed behind him with a high squeak, David turned to me. “Ara, for Safia to insert a soul into a living being, she would need to untether the one already in place—something that can only be done with the Dagger of Yahanna. Once I use it on Drake, its power will die with him.”
“And with you.”
He leaned in and kissed my brow, closing his eyes. “Give me an alternative, my love, and I’d take it.”
“But, we could—”
“A real alternative,” he said sharply and walked away, not noticing Jason behind him until they bumped shoulders. “Sorry,” he said, and closed the storage room door gently behind him.
Jason walked toward me, his steps graceful and light as the wind, and leaned against the table, folding his arms. “Don’t keep pressing him about jure uxoris, Ara,” he said. “He’ll never agree to it.”
“I know.”
“Then why do you keep bringing it up?”
“Guess I’m just hoping.”
“Do yourself a favour—” We both looked over at David through the windows, rummaging around in the storage area. “Stop hoping.”
“I can’t.”
He sighed, standing up again. “He’s worried about you.”
“In what way?”
“He knows how bad you’re hurting.”
“Good,” I said, smiling. “Maybe he’ll stay then.”
“No,” he said casually, packing away scrolls. “He won’t. He’ll just go to his death with the burden of your aching soul on his.”
My arms dropped to my sides, but I plastered a smile on as David came back in.
“We good?” he said to Jason, laying his hand on my arm.
“Yup. I’ll finish up with these and lock the door on my way out.”
“Thanks, bro.”
“Any time.” Jase waved and headed into the storage room, leaving us alone in the total silence. The seconds-hand on David’s watch ticked, keeping time to the beat of my heart, offering the comfort of noise in a completely wordless moment. I held my thoughts back from David, and he did the same with his own.
When he realised I was practically paralysed, unable to speak for fear of saying something he didn’t want to hear, he slid his touch down my arm and scooped up my hand. “Bed?”
I squeezed his fingertips, deciding right then that any pain I felt for losing him had to be felt alone. This was hard enough for David without me adding my broken heart to it. “Yeah. But I don’t wanna sleep.”
“What shall we do then?”
“Uuum, well, I have a few things I want to try out before my only company is a cat.”
“A cat?” David looked utterly confused.
“Yeah.” I started walking. “You don’t expect me to get married again once you’re gone, do you?”
He stayed behind for a second, but a burly laugh broke the silence in the room. It seemed like forever since I’d heard him laugh in such a carefree way, maybe even as far back as our last day by the lake. “Right. Well, in that case,” he said, stepping up to take my hand again. “There are a few things I’ve always wanted to do to you, mon amour.”
“Mm.” I closed my eyes, feeling the tingle of his words. “Speak French to me, and you can do whatever you want.”
He leaned in and whispered something in my ear, and I didn’t care what it was, didn’t care that the squeeze of his hand on the small of my back sent a thousand hot ideas into my mind because, whatever he said, it was definitely not in English.
Chapter Five
We stood against each other, arms by our sides, the backs of our fingers touching only by the finest hairs between them. We were like two individual flames meeting before blending as one—the heat intense but our skin immune, our bodies two, but our souls completely intertwined.
My cotton nightdress felt like air along my craving skin—like a breath I wanted to exhale so I could feel the closeness of David’s soon-to-be naked body against mine. We both knew what we were about to do wasn’t just for the sake of being close or fulfilling primal needs: it went much deeper than that. The first time we ever made love with the hope we might fall pregnant, I was scared and unsure that’s what I really wanted. And every time after that I’d either been afraid it wouldn’t happen, or afraid that, if it did, it’d mean losing him.
“You okay?” David asked softly into the crown of my head, his warm breath forcing my eyes closed.
I laid a hand across my belly, shaking slightly.
“My love?” He lifted my chin. “What is it?”
It had all changed. Every reason I ever had for wanting to make love to him had changed. I could finally hope it would bring the blessing of a little girl, and I wasn’t scared, not about anything, not about being a young mom. Not about going it alone, without David. I wasn’t even scared that I’d mess it all up and fail as a parent.
I opened my eyes and smiled, melting the concern in his. “I can imagine it,” I said.
“Imagine her?” His hand cupped mine.
“Yeah. I can finally imagine what she’ll be like.”
His hand moved from my belly to wipe a tear from my cheek. “Let’s not imagine anymore, Ara.”
“I . . . I’m afraid, though, David.”
“Of what?” His green eyes searched mine, so intense with depth and wisdom and strength that I felt silly for feeling fear when I should be thinking of nothing else but this moment. I was afraid it wouldn’t happen, though—afraid our baby wasn’t possible, no matter what we did. But something in his eyes just made it all okay, like he’d take care of it. Like nothing was impossible while I had him.
“Close your eyes,” he whispered in my ear, guiding my hand onto his heart. “Let me make love to you.”
“Only if you let it last for forever.”