Bedside Musings
Athos pulled a chair of to his bed where Sylvie was finally sleeping. The pain from the lashes had worn her out.
He sat heavily in the chair clenching his fists remembering how Marcheaux had Sylvie strung up by her arms on that pole.
Unbidden, thoughts of his wife came to mind. He knew now if she had still been on that road four years ago nothing good would have come of it. No, he didn't trust her. But he didn't trust himself around her either. A few moments in her presence and he felt out of control.
He couldn't lose himself in that relationship again. It was all consuming when they were together. It wasn't all her fault. He had been young and naïve and inexperienced. And then stupid not to at least consider what she claimed was the truth.
Duty and family honor swayed his actions more than anything.
He heard a slight moan come from the bed. Sylvie shifted in her sleep waking up. She swallowed a cry.
"Sylvie," Athos reached out resting a hand over the back of her head burying his fingers in her long thick hair. He soothed her some more hoping he could get her back to sleep.
"Athos," her voice was strained. She reached out stretching her arm out towards him biting her lower lip.
Athos moved to sit on the edge of the bed helping her rest her head on his thigh.
He looked down at her keeping his hand in her hair. Duty be damned, he was not letting Sylvie go again.
The End