Acceptance
She sits in a corner of the gardens. It is dark and a soft breeze ruffles the leaves of the trees. There is a scent of jasmine in the air. The night is quiet, no sound to be heard but the crickets in the high grass, and it is just what she needs. Out here, she can relax for a while. Out here she does not feel as restless and nervous and caged. The stars above, the wind on her skin are calming.
She had that nightmare again. The one where she finds his corpse and those dead eyes stare at her so accusingly, telling her it is all her fault. She knows it isn't. Even if she had been there when Anders died, she knows that maybe even then she would not have been able to prevent it. But the guilt is always there, anyway, that question of "what if". As is the grief, the loneliness, the emptiness.
It's been two years and she still misses him, still needs him. Her fingers rub at the wooden, scorched pendant around her neck, the pendant that was his and that she kept despite knowing that she shouldn't. It is a painful reminder but it is all that she has left of him and she just can't part with it.
She lets go of the leather band when she feels someone watching her. Even without seeing anyone she knows that her instincts are not playing tricks on her and she also knows who it is, lingering somewhere in the shadows to her left.
"It is impolite to spy on a lady without her consent, you do know that, don't you?" she quietly asks. There is a soft snort coming from the darkness and a moment later, Nathaniel steps into the dim moonlight.
"It would be impolite if there was any lady around," he shoots back and the comment triggers a small smile. She looks up at him to find that same small smile reflected on his edgy features but it does not reach his eyes. His gaze is probing, suspicious, worried. She's not able to hold it and averts her eyes.
"Don't look at me like that, Nate," she begs him. That special expression in his gray eyes always makes her squirm. It reminds here that there's something more between them than just friendship. On his part anyway. He wouldn't care so much if there wasn't and she knows it. They never talk about it, though. Every time it comes up, she blocks his hesitant advances. She's not ready yet or at least that is what she tells herself. But the truth is that she's afraid. Afraid that if she admits her feelings for another man it means that what she had with Anders never mattered, that it was not important. It feels like betrayal.
He sighs and sits down on the bench next to her. His arm comes around her and he pulls her close, resting her head against his shoulder and she lets him. His embrace is comforting despite the underlying meaning. She does not remember how many times she fell asleep in those arms over the last two years when the memories were just too much to bear and he never once rejected her, always patient, never demanding anything in return.
"You need to stop this, Lyn," he softly reprimands her. "It's been two years. You can't grieve for him forever."
As if she does not know that. She knows that she needs to let go. She knows that if she allows it, Nathaniel could be the man to make her happy again. But, Maker, it is so hard and it makes her angry that he has to remind her of this uncomfortable truth.
"Don't tell me what I can or can't do," she snaps at him, stiffening and pushing at him to escape his hold. He lets her go instantly, not trying to hold her back. She almost wishes he did because then she would have had a reason to fight him, to vent her anger and frustration on him. Damn him! Why does he always have to be so fucking understanding? She can't keep him at bay when he's like this.
It is the wrong thought at the wrong time and it aggravates her even more. Angry tears begin to sting the corners of her eyes and she abruptly stands from the bench and turns her back on him.
"Leave me alone!" she demands but the order falls flat because her voice is trembling and at the verge of breaking. She squeezes her eyes shut to keep the tears from falling and tries at a deep, controlled breath. It turns into a gasp when she feels a gentle hand on her cheek. Her eyes fly open again, shocked.
She does not know how he managed to come to stand before her in just a matter of seconds but there he is and the expression in those beautiful gray eyes is so loving and understanding and hurt that something inside of her shatters. She can just stare at him. Her lips move but no words come out. His thumb runs over her skin, stroking at the tears she can't hold back no matter how hard she tries.
And then, like in slow-motion, he bows his head and she begins to tremble. She knows what he is about to do and her hand comes up against his chest reflexively, stopping him inches before he touches her lips.
"Nate…"
His hand curls around her neck, keeping her in place when she tries to pull back.
"Please," he whispers, "Trust me."
His mouth is soft when he kisses her, careful, hesitant. He does not force her, leaves her enough room to retreat. Her thoughts run amok in her head. She is confused, afraid, excited, breathless. She wants to break away and at the same time she does not want him to stop. It feels good. It feels right. Why does it feel right?
His tongue teases her lips and without thinking, she opens up to him, allows him to deepen the kiss. The hand in her neck tightens and his arm wraps around her waist, gently pulling her against his warm chest. She closes her eyes again and concentrates on the feel of him, how he tastes, how he smells, the roughness of his fingers on her skin and the quick pace of his heartbeat under her hand. He feels so different from what she is used to and it makes her shiver but in a good way and she is surprised that, when he breaks the kiss, she is disappointed.
He lets her go again almost immediately and steps back and another shiver runs down her spine with the absence of his warmth. She feels lost, unsettled, not sure how to react or what to expect. Everything has changed in a matter of seconds.
"What now?" she helplessly whispers, looking at him with pleading eyes. "What do you want me to do?"
He slowly shakes his head.
"Wrong question. What is it that you want?"
Deep down inside somewhere she knows the answer to that question. She wants to be happy again. She does not want to grieve anymore.
Slowly, she reaches out a reluctant hand and he takes it, entwining his fingers with hers. She waits for the guilt to come, for that feeling of betrayal and that voice in her head that tells her this is wrong but nothing happens. The voice remains silent and all she feels is confidence and it terrifies her.
"Give me some more time," she asks quietly, squeezing his hand. This is all too overwhelming, too much for her to comprehend. He leans in, smiling, kissing her forehead before he lets go of her hand and disappears back into the darkness.
She inhales a deep breath and turns around. Her gaze wanders until she finds the oak tree where both her brother and her lover are buried at its foot. For a long while, she just stares, unseeing, trying to sort out her feelings and when she finally comes to a decision, she knows it is the right one.
Her fingers raise to the pendant again, feeling the rough surface one last time before she reaches for the knot of the leather band and takes it off of her neck. It's time to move on.