God, this is wicked short. Anyway, just the epilogue left. It makes me sad. This story kept me going all through, well, September. Heh, it did not take me long at all to write this. I'm quite surprised. So, I'm sorry that this part is short.
Also, to Mari, although I think you've gotten it by now: The Well Hungarians. Tee hee! Ooh, Roger… What have you been hiding from us all this time? Woof! Or as Inga says, 'Voof!' Hmm, let's see if anyone gets the reference. You get a cookie if you do.
Peace
-elodie
Wisp
Chapter 18
"So, the power still go off a lot?"
Mark shrugged, tossing a log into the fire. "Not really. This is the first time in over a month."
"Oh," Winnie said simply, sitting down on the couch gingerly. "I brought you something from Florida." She rummaged through her small bag and pulled out a box. "Here," She held it out to him.
Mark stared at the box for a second before taking it. "You didn't have to get me anything."
"I think I did," Winnie said sheepishly, averting his gaze. "It's the least I can do. I mean, you did sort of take me in over this past year. It's nothing much. I don't think I'll ever be able to repay you fully, but it's a start." She half-smiled, but kept herself from a full smile after seeing that Mark wasn't reciprocating it. "Go on, open it."
"You don't have to repay me," Mark murmured quietly, staring at the box in his hand.
"I do."
"But you really don't."
"Just open the box, Mark. C'mon, I was trying to do something nice," Winnie said, pressing her hand to her temples and gently massaging them.
Mark sighed and lifted the lid off the box. On a small bed of cotton lay a pure white sand dollar. "A sand dollar," He mused, holding it up. "It's beautiful."
Winnie smiled slightly, "I found it on the beach. Before it, I'd found bits and pieces of other sand dollars and I was getting discouraged. Just as I was about to give up, I found it."
"I'd always loved sand dollars."
"I know." Winnie pulled her knees up to her chest and shivered softly. "I know it's nothing much but-"
"It's perfect," Mark said firmly. "Are you still cold?"
Winnie nodded. "Just a little."
Mark sat on the couch next to her and grabbed her hands in an attempt to rub and make them warm. Winnie cried out in pain and yanked her hands back, her left hand cradling her right one against her chest.
"Mishap with a candle," She said quietly.
"Didn't you have a similar mishap last year?" Mark asked her, scowling. "Was it really an accident or did you do it to yourself?"
Winnie looked away sheepishly. "You know me, Mark. What do you think?"
"I'll get you a bandage," Mark said quietly. Winnie could hear the slight edge of disgust in his voice.
Winnie curled herself into the corner of the couch, shivering wildly. The room was slowly getting warmer, but she was still so cold. She was cold and scared. What a wonderful combination. What if Mark didn't take her back? Where would she go then?
Mark came back with the gauze bandages and bandaged her right hand up tightly. Winnie winced, but didn't cry out.
"You're angry at me," Winnie whispered after a few minutes of complete silence.
"Yes, of course I'm fucking angry at you," Mark snapped. "You abandoned me just when I needed you most. Wonderful way to treat the guy you're supposed to love."
Winnie shrank back from his angry outburst. "I'm sorry Mark, I just couldn't… I just couldn't take it anymore."
"How do you think I felt? Do you think I could take much more of it? I'd spent the better part of the year taking care of you, making sure you were OK and making sure you were happy and making sure you weren't hurting yourself. I needed you then, OK? And you weren't there…" Mark felt tears coming to his eyes.
"Mark, I-"
"And those last days, you wouldn't even tell me that you loved me. I'd tell you that I love you and god, did I. And when I waited for your response, all I heard was silence or the occasional 'I know.' And it killed me. You didn't even say it in your letters. I didn't know if you did or not anymore Winnie. I still don't."
"Mark…"
They were both crying, huddled at opposite ends of the couch. It was Winnie that initiated it. She scooted over and wrapped her arms around Mark, leaning her head against his rising and falling chest, sobbing into his shirt. Mark stiffened at first, but slowly wrapped his arms around her delicate shoulders.
"Mark, I love you so much." Winnie said through her tears. "I just couldn't say it then. I was losing my mind, Mark. I needed no human attachment. I needed to cleanse myself of everything. And you… I couldn't cleanse myself of you. You'd buried yourself so deep inside me. I tried to detach myself from you but you loved me too much. So I left, figuring total detachment would help me forget. But I couldn't."
Mark kissed the top of her head, his arms tightening around her as he began to cry harder. "Is that why you came back?"
"I don't know…" Winnie said faintly. "I sort of found myself on a park bench with a cinnamon scented candle in front of me. And I look around and realize that I'm back in New York and I think 'What am I doing here?' I didn't want to be back there. But then… Then my guardian angel set me on my feet and let me come to my senses. I need you, Mark."
Burying his face in her hair, Mark whispered, "If you need me so much, then why did you leave?"
"I didn't know I needed you."
"You can't even begin to realize how much I need you."
"Mark, what you said about taking care of me this past year…" Winnie bit her lip, pulling away slightly. "I had no idea you felt like that. You never said anything."
Mark smiled softly. "I loved you too much to say anything."
"You know I love you more than I can even express with words, right?"
Mark kissed the tip of her nose. "Of course. I know that now. But Winnie, you've got to realize. If you hadn't come into my life, I'd probably be dead."
"Don't say that, Mark," Winnie murmured, her lips against his neck.
"It's true. Last Christmas Eve, I was so mad at the world and everyone in it, only I refused to show anyone. It was pent up inside me. I was ready to slash my wrists open and let the blood flow all out at any second. But you beat me to the punch. I owe my life to you."
Winnie's hold on him tightened. "I had no idea it was that serious. You never told me."
"I'm sorry. You never asked."
Winnie glanced at the clock. 12:45. "I've been nineteen for forty-five minutes," She said quietly.
Glancing at the clock, Mark nodded. "So you have been. Happy birthday, Miss Winnie. I'm sorry that I have nothing to give you."
"Yes you do."
"I do?"
"You're here, aren't you? That's enough."
"I love you."
"I love you more."
Trembling, Winnie kissed him for the first time in three months. And with that kiss, three months of pent-up frustration and tension and hard feelings vaporized and drifted up to the ceiling where it was whisked away with the smoke from the fire.
With a tender urgency, intimacy came again when it hadn't for so long. And in that cold, cold night, the two lovers were truly, truly warm.