He watched Jean head up to bed after telling her he would not to do anything rash. They had held each other and exchanged sweet soft kisses, looking into each other's eyes and she made him promise, on them, that he would not lose his head about this. That they would talk more about it. But he had seen her almost break more times than he could handle recently, and had to do something. He must figure out a plan tonight. Something he could bring to her in the light of day. He poured himself a whiskey and knew it was going to be a long night.
He proceeded to lay out the divorce possibilities, discussing each with himself, as he continued to pour whiskey. The abandonment piece was out. The whole town and beyond knew of his search for Mei Lin all those years and about her return, thanks in large part to the bloody Courier. So a judge would not sign off on that. He would not go the adultery route because that one would touch Jean negatively even though he wouldn't name her. And because, to add insult to injury there, he actually couldn't name her anyway as they had indeed NOT slept together, despite the rumor mill in town. NOT underlined ten times with a sad face. The whiskey was catching up to him. Which brought him back to the drunk bit. He laughed to himself as he was filling that role now quite handily. What would that mean; possible job loss [he could get another job, or quite honestly, he didn't need it financially], a few patients might leave [he didn't like all of them anyway], or he could go get treatment to get "sober" [boring, plus he didn't have a problem, not anymore, thanks to sweet Jean]. He circled Jeans name, put hearts and X's and O's around it. He was fading to the whiskey and he knew it, smiling drunkenly at her name there. But then, before he went completely sideways, a brainstorm hit him. They could move. Leave Ballarat. That "bloody church" was making her hurt anyway. They could go anywhere, start a fresh, married and happy. Just go the drunk route, get the divorce and let the whole town go to hell while they found happiness elsewhere. Oh yes, that was it! He would tell Jean in the morning, but first he needed to sleep, or pass out was more like it. He collapsed in his bed with a silly smile on his face, anxious for morning, when he would tell his Jean about the plan.
The next morning he overslept. Which was fine because he didn't work today, just a few patients much later. Jean went and put an ear to his door, but heard nothing. When she turned away she noticed clutter in his study, so she went to tidy up. The bottle on the desk was empty. "Oh Lucien" She said to herself sadly. He hadn't drank like that in a while. Turning to throw the bottle away, she saw it and let out a little giggle.
His blackboard had notes scribbled all over it, like the two of them were a case he was trying to solve. She brought her hand up to her mouth to stifle a louder laugh. This precious man had hearts and sad faces and angry scribbles and circles everywhere. If she wondered how he felt about Father Emory and the church, that was clear now, and she had to smile. She couldn't blame him, and was actually beginning to agree with him. And although she knew exactly how he felt about her, because he told her often in their quiet and most intimate times together, it still warmed her heart to see hearts around her name. Her sweet boy. Who apparently was NOT (underlined ten times) happy about their waiting to be married to sleep together. She was now bent over and unable to silence a full fit of laughter.
"I thought I had some good points there." His voice entering the room before he did.
She turned and he was leaning on the doorway, haphazardly put together, hair disheveled, with the sweetest smile on his face. God, she loved this man. Walking over to him, placing both hands on his face, she looked right into his eyes, "I love you so much Lucien Blake. And we are not moving anywhere. This is our home. A home of sin for years according to the whole town, but for the people who really know and care about us. And they don't care what we're doing or not doing. And I don't care what anyone else thinks anymore. The whole town can go to hell, and I'll gladly join them, if that's to be my fate for loving you." Pulling his face to her she kissed him full, hard, and lingering. Then looking into his soul, "Til death do us part." She then lightly kissed his lips, slid her hands down his arms, took his hand and led him to his bedroom.
With the most tender look of love, devotion and happiness he closed the door behind them "I love you Jean Blake. The strongest, most beautiful woman I have ever known." Tears filled his focused eyes, which were searing into her, "Til death do us part."