Absolution: the act of absolving; a freeing from blame or guilt; release from consequences, obligations or penalties
"More than any of us, she had written her own story; yet she could not wash it out with all her tears…" ― Sandra Worth
God knows they both carried scars. Their past was written not only in ropy white lines on their flesh but deeper, in shadowed corners the light never touched. Part of her would forever be locked away just as part of him would always be hidden behind walls built high and tight. They'd gathered a new family, forging bonds and setting aside habits created over a lifetime.
Neither meant to let it go as far as it did. After, she smiled and murmured something about God laughing at people's plans. He shied back as her hand skimmed lightly down his arm. When her smile flickered just on the edge of dying, he offered up one of his own and said plans were for pussies. When she snorted out a laugh and asked where he'd heard those wise words, he didn't even flinch when he said his brother's name. She didn't wince when she confided that Sophia's favorite song was that old tune by the Byrds. They used to sing it together, twirling like ballerinas while their voices blended in eerie perfection. "To everything…turn, turn, turn…there is a season...turn, turn, turn." Her voice shook as the memory sent a high tide of guilt and regret surging through her.
He didn't hesitate to pull her in close, wrap her up tight in a welcome but vain attempt to shield her from the pain. "She knew you loved her." His gruff reassurance was a life line. "You did the best you could."
She peered up at him, blue eyes luminous with unshed tears. "Did I?" She questioned softly. "I didn't leave him. I couldn't keep her safe."
"You did the best you could," he repeated stubbornly.
She lifted her head until their eyes met and held. "So did you," she stated in a fierce undertone. "You're just as good as anybody. Better than most."
He dropped his gaze, looking for something, anything to change the subject. She shifted, and in doing so, gave him his distraction. They were tangled together skin-on –skin; her warm breath bringing with it a shudder and a ripple of gooseflesh as she sighed into his shoulder. Other memories came to the fore of gentle touches, muffled groans, and heat that both welcomed and enfolded. He rolled them until he hovered over her, a smile tugging at the edge of his mouth at her startled gasp. "I ain't sorry," he confided on a whisper. He buried his head in the delicate curve where neck met shoulder, unable to bear her searching look any longer but unwilling to put any more distance between them.
Her arms found their way around him, rubbing slow soothing circles on his back. They skimmed lightly over the war torn remnants of his past, the knowledge that he'd seen hers making it a sacred act, an absolution, one more knot in the tie that bound them one to the other. She prayed as she had in that church on the day Sophia slipped out of her life for good. Father, forgive me. I don't deserve to ask for more than you've provided but I'm begging you. Please, God, let me keep this. I can't lose him too.