Chapter 2
John looked right at Anna during the confession of his sins. She tried to interrupt, to find a reasonable explanation that would turn him again into the good man she'd imagined, but he wouldn't let her. He hated to see her beautiful face marred by a creased brow, but John reminded himself that the plan was to redirect her.
John went outside after a rather difficult evening. Anna pensive, his other colleagues uncomfortable, his own thoughts troubled. John felt relieved to come clean about his past, and believed this was the best possible course to resolve the situation with Anna. He knew she'd seek him in the yard after her work was finished for the evening, and he prepared himself for a difficult conversation. He thought he'd face accusations and tears and hear himself torn down by her new, realistic view of him. He steeled himself.
John was ready for her when he heard her footsteps. He thrilled a little to hear her say "Mr. Bates," with the lengthened aaa given by her northern accent. He might not hear it much more, so he needed to savor it. He wondered what it would sound like if she ever said "John," and cursed the social conventions that forced her, the superior, to address him as her better.
John wasn't ready for her. "Will you really leave?" had not been expected. "Are you really a thief and a drunk?" or "Prison?" or perhaps "I was a fool to think I loved a man like you." Something in that vein. Not the note of despair in her voice that he might leave. All of his planned words fell away as he heard himself tell her to go to sleep and dream of a better man. Why couldn't he keep himself from smiling? He wanted to reach over and smooth the crease out of her brow before it stuck. When he heard her steadfast refusal all hope was lost. At some point he had taken her hand (and oh, how could someone who worked all day dusting and cleaning and washing have such soft hands?). He found that they were suddenly leaning in, with a purpose, angling, he could smell her (and oh, how could someone who worked all day on her feet cleaning smell so fresh and of lavendar?) and then a crash brought reality crashing down on them. John looked up in annoyance and tried to catch her eye to see if perhaps she could be lured somewhere more discreet. Anna was the strong one, and with an apologetic look dashed back inside. John knew she was right, knew he had no right to kiss her no matter how much either of them wanted it, but for one brief shining moment….