Chapter 49

Dear readers, real life has been very full this past month, mostly in a good way, with little time to write, and this chapter needed lots of time to get the tone just right. I hope you find it satisfactory. More to come in the next few days.

When Martin woke the next morning he found himself spooned up against Louisa, his arm wrapped tightly around her waist with her right hand clutching his. Martin realised as he watched her sleeping next to him that Sunday morning that he didn't want to lose her, even though he was still having trouble exorcising the image of her and that rat in bed together. He was tempted to wake her by kissing her neck and caressing her breasts, hoping that sexual passion would heal the rift he had caused; but as he stared at her sleeping innocently next to him, he thought better of it. She had told him last night that there was to be no sex until they had resolved their argument. He rose and decided to fix her breakfast even though they would be meeting Aunt Ruth for brunch later.

Louisa woke to the smell of coffee brewing and bacon cooking and thought to herself that Martin was probably trying to make amends by cooking bacon for her. She had bought some the day before as a treat for herself during the week, knowing that he wouldn't cook it for himself. Well that was all very nice, but he was going to have to do more than fix a wonderful breakfast before all was forgiven. She finally rose and made her way into the kitchen, greeting him with a quiet "good morning". He stepped over to her and reached out to place a soft kiss on her cheek. Looking into her eyes with a gently questioning expression, he also bid her "good morning".

"I've prepared a light breakfast, fruit and toast and bacon. Are you hungry?" He kept his eyes firmly fixed on hers, avoiding the subject that was foremost in both their minds.

Not shifting her gaze from his and relieved not to have to start that discussion just yet, she replied politely, "Yes, I can see that. It looks very nice."She turned and took two plates down from the cupboard, handed one to him and said in as neutral a tone as possible, "Shall we eat then?"

"Yes. You first." He indicated she should serve herself and then followed suit, omitting the bacon from his plate and sat down across from her at the table. They ate in silence each occasionally looking at the other, each knowing that the difficult part of the morning still lay ahead. As they were finishing up, Louisa broached the topic, "Breakfast was delicious. Thank you." She paused for a moment, placing her utensils on her plate. Keeping her eyes focused on her plate, she asked almost in a whisper, "Were you trying to make amends for last night?"

"um ..." It certainly was part of his plan, but he wasn't sure how to reply. There was something in her tone. As a delaying tactic to the inevitable conversation, he rose to refill his coffee cup, and asked, "More tea?"

She looked up at him with a shy smile, amused at his attempt to gain time, to gather his thoughts, "Yes, please."

He went into the kitchen and refilled both their cups, placed Louisa's on the table in front of her, then resumed his place across from her and took a sip of his coffee.

Louisa picked up her now hot tea and held it with both hands finding comfort in its warmth, then put it down and reached across the table to gently caress his cheek. "Your cheek and eye look terrible. Does it hurt?"

"A little" He glanced down, then looked back at her with eyes full of remorse. "Louisa, I'm ... uh..."

"Yes?" She looked back at him, "I know..." She placed her hands flat on the table and briefly drummed her fingers. "I guess it's time we discussed last night's fiasco." She looked up at him, her mouth set firmly in place, but with a certain kindness in her eyes. He gulped and replied "Yes."

"You first." She looked at him expectantly.

He looked back, uncertain where to begin. "Uhh ..."

She realised that it was asking too much of him to start. Again she resorted to her head teacher tactics. "Okay then. I think I can start." She looked up at him and saw relief tinged with fear in his face, "Best be gentle Louisa." she advised herself. "Let me start at the beginning. Dennis made malicious remarks about me, you threw drinks in his face and he hit you. So far so good." She grimaced, "Well ... Not so good for your face, but good for defending me."

"Mm ..." Martin nodded.

She continued, "and I'm glad you told me what happened."

"Good."

"And I can understand why you were angry."

"No, I wasn't angry".

"You seemed angry to me."

"Um..." He dropped his head in shame as he thought "No, I was humiliated for her to see me that way. I couldn't even defend myself from her ex-husband. I'll never be the man she needs. It was just like my school days, being bullied. Even now I can hear my mother's constant admonitions when I would run to her for comfort, "you're always being bullied and teased. You can't expect me to protect you. Why can't you be more like your father?' And then my Father's words of disgust at his son's weakness, my weakness ...'a sniveling coward is what you are ... learn to fight like a man ... you're a disgrace to the name of Ellingham'. "

He kept quiet unable to voice his misery to her so she continued, failing to recognise the humiliation in his body language. "What I don't understand is why you believed Dennis, why you refused to believe me when I said we did nothing the least bit out of the ordinary." She wasn't able to keep the hurt out of her voice as much as she tried, and she continued, "And then you implied that I was some kind of immoral woman. How could you say that to me?"

"Perhaps I overreacted."

"Perhaps? No perhaps about it. I can hear your voice even now, 'What kind of woman are you?'" She rose and turned away from him so he wouldn't see the tears welling up in her eyes, then moved a few steps away from the table, "How could you accuse me of being a ... a ... I don't know ... some kind of harlot?"

He jumped up and stepped around the table toward her "Nooo ... noooo. That's not what I think." He reached for her arm and turned her to face him and realised that she was crying.

"What do you think then?" She was sobbing and looked at him through her tears.

"Oh God, now I've made her cry. I knew I would muck it all up." He stood there for a moment wanting to pull her to him and comfort her, but he hesitated uncertain whether she would welcome his embrace. Instead, he reached out to stroke her cheek, "Don't cry Louisa. I never meant to hurt you. I was confused last night. Let me get you a tissue."

She took the tissue from his hand and dried her eyes. "You were confused?"

"Yes," He took her arm and led her back to the table. "Please let me try to explain."

She sat back down, "Okay."

"I wasn't angry last night. When we left the wedding, I was embarrassed."

"Embarrassed?" She thought about this for a moment, and although she knew for certain that a proud and distinguished man like Martin would be loathe to have engaged in a fight, still she felt compelled to ask, "Why?"

He couldn't really explain it so he continued, "And I was confused. Why would that man say those things about you if they weren't true? And I know that you said nothing like that happened and I believe you. But last night all I could see was the image of you and him doing those horrible things. And I couldn't understand why he would tell me something like that if it never happened. Why would he do that?"

"I told you. He wanted to break us up."

"Yes, but I didn't know that. I couldn't get that picture out of my mind, and I was tired and confused and my head hurt and I was embarrassed. I know that's not an excuse for my outburst. I was wrong and I wish I could take it back. Can we just try to forget it all happened and go back to the way we were ... please ... Louisa?"

She listened intently to his explanation, wanting to move past this roadblock to their relationship as much as he. She knew he wasn't always able to interpret social cues and that Dennis' comments undoubtedly did confuse him, but he was right, that wasn't an excuse for his treatment of her. She needed him to understand just how hurt she had been. She gave herself a few moments to compose her reply, then said, "I understand that it was a very difficult evening for you, and I would very much like to move past this as well, but I need you to understand just how upset I was that you refused to believe me, that you have so little trust in me or respect for me that you would believe even for a second his accusations."

"Oh, Louisa," he cried. "I do believe you. I do respect you ... more than any woman I have ever met."

"Oh" It was comforting to hear him speak his feelings for her so passionately, but ... "It didn't seem that way last night. And I meant what I said. If you ever ... ever ... speak to me so harshly ever again, I will leave you. I cannot be with a man who would treat me that way."

"Yes."

The worry lines in his face deepened and she knew he had taken her admonishment to heart. "I'm glad we understand each other." She leaned over the table and place a gentle kiss on his lips. Seeing the concern still reflected in his eyes, she rose and went to him, "Get up please. I think you desperately need a hug."

"Yes." He rose and enfolded her in a gentle, but tentative embrace while she wrapped her arms tightly around his middle and buried her face in his shoulder. She could feel the tension in his body, and she started to stroke his back in an effort to soothe his emotions, but without much effect, so she pulled his face down to hers and kissed him tenderly on the mouth, then reached up to lightly stroke his bruised cheek. "There kissed and made up. Are we okay now?"

"Yes." He strengthened his embrace, shielding her from the tears that were escaping from his eyes. Did he dare to tell her that his mind was still consumed with images of her and her ex in compromising positions and that he couldn't seem to shake them. He knew he was being irrational, but those images wouldn't disappear no matter how he tried to expunge them. No, it was best not to share that problem with her, at least not now. Their reconciliation was still too fresh.

Eventually she pulled away, "Shall we start the washing up? We will need to get ready to go meet Ruth soon. It's almost eleven."

"Yes." He released her and they took their dishes to the sink where Martin loaded them into the dishwasher. He needed some space to collect his thoughts before meeting up with Ruth. As he started to scrub the bacon pan, he told her, "I can finish this. Why don't you go take your shower and get ready."

She glanced around the kitchen and seeing that there really was little left to do, she replied, "Okay. I'll do that. We probably don't want to keep Ruth waiting."

"No."

When she had finished dressing for their brunch with Ruth, she found Martin sitting on the sofa in the lounge, immaculate in a navy suit, white shirt with blue and grey striped tie, and as always she caught her breath at the sight of him. He was scanning the morning paper, but he still appeared tense, holding himself even more stiffly than usual and the worry lines in his face had deepened. She sat down next to him and placed her hand gently on his thigh. "Martin, there's something still bothering you, isn't there?"

"Mm ..." How could she tell? He prided himself on his ability to mask his emotions, but she always seemed to see through his stoic facade.

"Do you want to tell me?" She asked this with some hesitation, not wanting to push him any further than she had already if he wasn't up to it.

"Mm ..." He clasped his hands together between his knees and shrugged his shoulders, staring at the floor. They sat there together in silence for a few minutes and then he spoke, "I don't want to upset you any more than I have."

"Oh ... I'm not sure how to respond to that."

"it's not your fault. It's nothing that you have done. You need to know that."

"Okay. That's good to know." She had kept her hand resting lightly on his thigh throughout and now she gave it a slight squeeze.

"It's just that I can't rid my mind of that image." He continued to stare down at his shoes, then rushed to finish his thought. "That image of you and him. I know it's illogical, but I just can't ... and that's what's bothering me." There it was out, and if she left him because of it, then there was nothing that could be done.

"Mmm ... I understand. Sometimes it takes time for these things to fade. Maybe getting out will help. Maybe Aunt Ruth will have some patient anecdotes she can share with us to distract you."

"She can't break patient confidentiality." Louisa was so kind. What did he do to deserve he, he wondered.

"Well it's better than sitting in here and obsessing over it all." She spoke gently, wanting to comfort him, but knowing they both needed to take a break from the morning's serious conversation. Louisa stood up and pulled on his hand, encouraging him to stand. She took his face in both her hands and kissed him softly,"Let's go."

'Right."