My Hands
Vincent (Speaking about having hurt Lisa): Because I hurt her...because in my desire, I forgot who I was. Who I am. As she moved closer, I wanted to hold her. She was dancing, and...and I felt a pull. It was pulling me to her, and I reached out for her. Suddenly, in her eyes, I saw fear of me. I saw myself. But I couldn't let go of her...And I knew these hands were not meant to give love. Catherine (taking Vincent's hands in to hers): These hands are beautiful. These are MY hands.
He held out his hands to her; hands that had torn into innocent flesh. HIS hands. She took those hands into hers and gently kissed them. Her lips lingered, tender and loving.
"Vincent, these are MY hands. And they are beautiful," she stated. "Everything about you is beautiful...and I love you..."
"But I hurt her. I hurt Lisa. With my hands," he spoke with regret.
"You didn't mean to hurt her. She forgives you. She told me so herself. It was an accident, Vincent - nothing more."
"But I would never want to hurt YOU, Catherine. You are my heart."
"And you are mine... and a life without you... without your touch; that is what would hurt me. Never your hands," she responded, as she kissed them again.
Teardrops slid from his eyes and landed onto her cheek. She bent over his hands, lovingly caressing his palms. A terrible sob wrenched from his throat as she continued to kiss his hands over and over in a soft soothing gesture as though trying to impart the love and the longing she carried for him in the deepest recesses of her gentle heart.
"I love you, Catherine," he said as he tugged her close and held her against his warm body. In that moment, he knew he had found her. She was his soulmate and his Forever.
The End