When she woke, he had met her sleepy gaze with a look of such tenderness that her eyes welled with tears. He stroked her back as he kissed her good morning. That was the first time he told her plainly that he loved her.
They made love again. The urgency of the previous night was gone. In its place were patience and a need to learn… to explore one another. She hadn't thought she could love him more, but the way he touched her, the way he loved her…
Like one of her prized begonias his love had taken root in her heart, inextricably wending itself around and throughout each chamber. Every moment spent with him caused a new sprout to grow. It was part of her now. He was part of her.
How momentary happiness is. The phone had rung not long after they had begun their morning routine. He was called to the station. He dropped her off at the market on the way.
She pretended not to notice, but she heard every word Mrs. McCarthy said as she waited for the clerk to ring up her purchases. She straightened her shoulders, paid the clerk and loudly thanked him before furiously walking home.
She kept such a clean and orderly house that she had trouble finding an occupation that would keep her thoughts at bay. She was aware of the gossip, but it had never bothered her before. It had never been true before…
The more she thought of it, the more convicted she felt.
Had she known Mei Lin was alive, she never would have allowed herself to fall for him. Once she had shown up at their door, Jean had tried every avenue to push him away. Back into the arms of his wife. But he had chosen her.
Mei Lin was gone just as swiftly as she had arrived. It almost felt as though it had been a bad dream.
She had kissed him. He had proposed. They had begun to allow themselves to slowly start a life together.
He had never pressured her. He seemed to notice every hesitation, immediately stopping and waiting for her signal. She had been sure she was ready. She was the one who took his hand and led him to his bedroom door. He had searched her face. Satisfied with what he found there, he had swept her into his arms and carried her to bed.
Her life had been so full of regrets. With her husband, Christopher, with Jack and Christopher Jr. She had lost her husband, lost their farm, lost all hope of anything other than a life of service.
This new regret was too much. She felt as though her soul was being split in two. Her mind rebelled at the thought that she should not love this man. He had opened up a future that would wash away all of those past mistakes.
But he was just a man. A flawed person, like the rest. Her faith taught her that it was foolish to worship another human being. She was putting him in the place of God, and she knew that was wrong. Unlike Lucien, she did not believe that God was cruel. She believed that all suffering was for a purpose. This was her fault. She was the one who had sinned. Now they would both pay the price.
She prepared dinner and left a note on the table, letting him know that she would be out. She walked to the church and entered the confessional.
"Bless me, Father, for I have sinned."
The priest stirred in the booth beside her.
She waited several minutes, but the words wouldn't come. She tried again, taking a breath and opening her mouth. A sob escaped her instead. She couldn't contain her grief.
"There, there, dear. There is nothing you could have done that our Father won't forgive."
Unable to continue, she ran from the confessional. She didn't stop until she found herself at Lake Wendouree, in Lucien's favorite spot.
She bowed her head and calmed herself. Then she prayed. She asked for forgiveness and strength. Then she asked for direction.
She thought the only thing to do was to leave him. The thought was like a physical blow. He was going to be divorced from Mei Lin eventually. Was it so wrong to want him? To love him? She started back home with a heavy heart.
She quietly opened the door and headed to her room. Lucien must have been waiting for her. "Jean!" he called to her in his usual gregarious manner. He hurriedly walked toward her with his arms open, ready to give her a kiss. "Oh, how I've missed you!"
His face fell when he saw her. "Jean, what is it?"
She held up a hand to stop him from touching her. "We can't." She ran past him to her room.
"Jean? Jean!" He followed her up the stairs, but she had already closed the door.
"Please talk to me. Jean?"
He stood at her door for a long time. Finally, he quietly said, "I'm here when you're ready to talk. Please don't shut me out. I… I love you, Jean." She didn't see the tears roll down his cheeks when she failed to answer. Or the marks left on his palms from balling his hands into tight fists.
She was up early the next morning, hoping to avoid him. She opened her door to find Lucien sleeping on the threshold. She felt a sharp pain in her chest at the sight. She quietly stepped over him and tiptoed to the kitchen.
"Good morning, Jean." His voice was subdued, hoping to coax an answer out of her without having to ask.
"Morning, Lucien." She busied herself at the stove so she wouldn't have to look at him.
He moved to her side and waited. She wanted to bury her head in his chest and allow herself to cry, but she had determined to remain calm.
"Is there something you need, Lucien?"
"An explanation would be nice."
She turned to him then. He looked so shattered. Her hand reached toward him involuntarily. He caught it in his and pulled her to his chest. "Please, Jean. For God's sake, tell me what's wrong."
His choice of words caused her to start crying again. He held her for a moment. Then she stepped away. "I never should have…" Her voice broke and she shook her head.
"Did I hurt you, Jean?"
"No."
"What did I do?"
"Nothing, Lucien. It's not you." She turned away. "It's our situation."
"Are you… Is this…" He shook his head. "Are you ashamed?"
"We shouldn't have…"
"We can't change that now." He gave her a pleading look. "But if it's that much of an obstacle, we can go back to the way things were."
She crouched on the floor in a defensive position. Lucien knelt beside her and wrapped his arms around her. When he met with no resistance, he picked her up and carried her to the couch.
Once she had calmed, she slipped out of his grasp and slid to the other side of the couch.
"Jean…do you remember accepting my proposal?"
She didn't meet his gaze, but she nodded once.
"You know that Mei Lin and I agreed to a divorce."
She glanced at him and nodded again.
"You know that once it is finalized, I will be free to marry?"
"Yes, Lucien."
They sat for a while, saying nothing.
"Have you changed your mind?" This time he was the one who couldn't meet her eyes.
"It's easier for you. No one whispers about us in your hearing. They don't look at you like they do me."
"There have been rumors about us since I moved back home."
"But they weren't right before."
"They aren't right now, Jean. " He slid closer to her and took her hand. "I love you. I want to marry you. If it weren't for the paperwork, I'd have married you already."
"Lucien…"
"Jean…" He leaned back to look into her face. "Do you believe in the forgiveness of God?"
"Yes. Of course."
"Did you ask for it?"
"I went to confession last night, but I couldn't find the words."
"The priest may be a man of God, but he's still a man. Did you ask for God's forgiveness?"
"Yes."
"Can you not forgive yourself?"
"I could…if I had truly repented." She blushed at this admission.
He looked at her with astonishment apparent on his face. "You never cease to amaze me."
Then he laughed and hugged her tight. "I thought I had put you off me forever."
She smiled then. "I'm afraid not."
"Well, it is perfectly natural for a wife to appreciate her husband's affections."
"I'm not your wife, Lucien."
"Not yet." He squeezed her gently and looked into her face. "The next time we share a bed, you will be. Agreed?"
She searched his face…watched as his expression changed from hope to uncertainty to fear. Finally, she smiled at him. "Agreed."