Chapter Twenty-Four

Her mouth tasted as bitter as bile, and she felt her stomach wrenching into hundreds of tiny knots. She had a way to escape. She could turn and run into the house, yet when he stepped closer, she couldn't move. "What are you doing here?" Her knuckles were white and shaking as she gripped the rail. He moved a few more steps. "That's far enough, David. Don't come any closer."

"I mean no harm," he assured her.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded, hoping Albert would come out soon, but also wanting to give this man a piece of her mind. "Why did you come here, David? After all of this time?" His good eye was glassy and emotionless. His face was frozen like a portrait. She couldn't read him, and that's what frightened her the most. After what he'd done to Michaela, she wasn't so sure he wouldn't try it with her. This time, it wouldn't be consensual.

"I want to apologize to you," he replied stiffly, his voice lacking emotion.

"You should not be here, David," Lydia replied. "If you're going where I think you're going to night, you should think again."

"I've been going to all of my appointments. My therapist says I'm doing much better." Lydia sensed no sentiments in his voice, and it scared her. How could anyone be so emotionless? It was almost inhuman. "I wanted to apologize to you first, Lydia. I'm sorry for the way I treated you. I'm sorry I let you go. I know that was a big mistake. Michaela just…I know now that she doesn't love me. You cared." Lydia felt herself trembling from fear. She wasn't ready to hear this, especially because she knew in her heart that it wasn't true. A part of her wanted to believe him for the sake of her unborn child…a child he'd helped to create. No matter. This child would never know his true father, though she was beginning to wonder how she would keep her secret from David if he was wandering the streets again.

Lydia felt dizzy again, but she gripped the rail, holding her own. She shook her head as she glanced at David. She wasn't looking him in the eye. She couldn't let him see the truth…that was…if he could even see anything human anymore. Part of her needed to know why. Why had he been a normal man all of his life, and then one day, he'd turned into someone completely different. What was it?

"Why?" she asked him softly.

"I was a very confused man, Lydia," he said quietly. "My life hasn't been an easy one, despite what some may think. I've had…unspeakable things…I…" Lydia watched as he struggled. Emotion was flushing back to his face. He was shaking. She didn't know what to make of it. It was almost as if he was transforming into someone else.

"Whatever's happened to you, David, it doesn't make up for the sins you've committed," she said, feeling herself being beaten by those words. "You need to apologize to Michaela."

"I want that chance, Lydia," he said quietly. "But she frustrates me. When I'm frustrated, I can't control it. She doesn't understand. She won't let me near."

"I can't blame her, David," Lydia said, her trembling with her body. "What you did…tried to do…was uncalled for…horrible."

"I know," he cut her off angrily, stepping closer. She backed herself up against the door, but he didn't back down. He seemed to calm. "You don't understand. Nobody does." He shook his head, and his entire body shuddered. "I've been going to church everyday that I've been able to. I've been trying to ask forgiveness for what I've done. What they've done."

"Who's 'they,' David?" she whispered, almost feeling sorry for him, because she realized that he had been doing exactly what she'd done by going to the church and asking for forgiveness. She hated herself for almost feeling sorry for him. Almost. She watched him as he seemed to disappear inside of himself, his exterior becoming stiff and emotionless again. She studied him, her heart breaking, more for the child she carried that bore half of his father's identity. It was then that she realized that she couldn't move on. She couldn't move on like this at all. Something was there between her and David, and not just the child that they'd created in their sinful rendezvous. She felt a lump rising in her throat, and her heart felt heavy and full of pain. She knew what she needed to do. She couldn't go on hating and fearing and needing release from a painful memory that brought her nothing but anger and resentment. No matter how hard it was, she needed to be able to look into his eyes and forgive him. Not only was it for her sake, but it was for the sake of the child…her child. She couldn't truly get past it all unless she was able to forgive and let it all out.

She stepped toward him, her hands trembling. She took comfort in the fact that the street was busy on this night, and she was just a scream away from having Albert out there. Her hands reached up, and she pulled at the patch upon his eye. He squinted, but he remained still. His damaged eye was clouded, and she knew he couldn't see from it anymore. It made her happy and sad at the same time. He had suffered, but probably not as much as he deserved to.

"That's better," she said quietly. "I needed to see right into your soul." The word burned her. What soul? Did this shell of a man have anything that resembled a soul anymore? "David, there are a lot of things I have to say to you. None of them will probably matter to you, but they need to be said. First, I will never forget what you did to me. I'll never forget the way you were so cold and…" She shook her head. This already wasn't going the way she'd planned, though she had had very short notice. "I can't blame you for it completely. I was willing, and I regret it. I wanted it to happen when it did. I had cared for you, lusted after you…but no more. When you left, you brought me down with you. You left me with no job, no money…and no mother. She died, David. I had no home, and I was forced to live with family and work for them to pay my stay." She shook her head. "I've hated myself for a long time, and I was able to forgive myself. It's hard though, because I still dream about what happened, and I wish to God it hadn't happened."

Tears were stinging Lydia's eyes now, but she couldn't let herself cry in front of him. He had caused her too much pain for him to ever see her cry. She couldn't let him have the satisfaction. He still stood still, his eyes unflinching, his face unmoving.

"I've sought spiritual forgiveness, but I know that I can never truly be forgiven without doing the forgiving myself," she whispered. Her hands were shaking still, and David finally moved to speak. She wouldn't let him. She placed the eye patch in his hands, her fingers lingering on his for a moment, old feelings, none pleasant, rushed through her. "I forgive you David, because I know now that you're not the same man you were born." Her thoughts traveled to her unborn child, and she smiled sadly. "As far as I'm concerned, this is over. I never want to see you again. If we do see one another, I suggest you walk right by and not speak to me. This is over." At that moment, the door jerked open, and Albert walked out.

"You ready?" he asked. He froze when he saw David standing so close to Lydia. Before he even got the chance to speak, David was walking away. Albert wanted to run after him, but he wanted to make sure Lydia was all right most of all.

"What happened?" he questioned. "Did he hurt you?" She turned her attention to him, looking surprisingly happy. "Lydia?"

"It's over," she said, her voice light and full of hope again.

"What's over? I don't understand," he said quietly. She wanted David to continue to pay for what he'd done to others, but she knew that she was finished worrying. She felt free again, except that another weight still weighed heavy upon her.

"Albert," she whispered. "I need to tell you something," she whispered. "I've been meaning to tell you for a while now. I just haven't known how."

"Is this about…about why you've been ill?" he asked softly, taking her hands in his.

"You could say that." She let a tear trickle out. "Let's walk, Albert. We don't need the carriage."

"Are you sure you're feeling up to it?"

"Yes. Yes, I need to walk. I need air," she replied.

"Did David upset you?"

"He won't upset me anymore. I won't let him," she replied. She linked her arm through his, and they began to walk off toward the hotel. Albert watched her with nervous anticipation. He was fearing the worst but trying to keep his hope strong. Meanwhile, a million different ways of telling Albert were running through Lydia's head. How was she supposed to say it? Should she break it to him gently or blurt it out? Should she warn him and tell him in a week? She didn't know what to do. She needed to get it over with.

"Lydia, you're worrying me," Albert said quietly. She finally stopped on the sidewalk and turned to him. She placed her hand upon her stomach and bit her lip nervously. "You can say anything, Lydia. What is it?" She closed her eyes, backing down for a moment. But, she controlled herself, and she let go of his hands.

"Albert, I'm pregnant." The next three minutes and forty-seven seconds were pure silence. Lydia heard nothing of the street bustle, and her tear-stained eyes were fixed on Albert's wide, uncertain ones. She wanted to reach out and touch him and make sure he was still there in front of her or still alive. He hadn't moved in an awfully long time. She didn't know what to expect, and she was about to turn and walk away. "Albert, I never expected this. I never meant for it to happen. It did, and I…I want to be a mother. I never wanted it this way, but this is the way it turned out." She closed her eyes and forced herself to stay turned forward. She couldn't turn her back on him. The most she could do was wait for him to do that. The trust. She had trusted him, but so far, all of the men in her life had gone away or turned their backs on her. Why should she expect anything different? "Albert?" She shivered, and the tears began to flow anew. He was still staring, picking at the corners of his mind. Pregnant? She was pregnant?

"Lydia," he finally spoke after five minutes and fifty-three seconds. Lydia could breathe again. She opened her eyes, the gray of her irises turning blue under the moonlight. "I don't know what to say."

"Say anything. Say anything, Albert," she whispered. "I don't know what you must think of me."

"How long have you known?" he asked quietly. Her first instinct was to tell him it didn't matter, but it did matter.

"Since the night I fainted on the porch. Dr. Quinn confirmed it for me that night." Albert almost didn't look surprised. "Oh, Albert, I wanted to tell you then. I don't know what's happened between us. You've been wonderful to me. I haven't been so wonderful to you. From the beginning, I was rude to you, but you made me see how sweet you are. You've changed my outlook on the world, Albert. I'm happy now. It means so much to me that someone cared enough to show me the world for what it is and not what it isn't. The world isn't all disappointment and heartbreak, and I know that now." She brushed away her tears, only to feel them replaced by fresh ones. "I wanted to tell you right away, but I didn't want to ruin our friendship." Albert looked at her, his eyes not moving from hers. She was afraid of what was to come next. She prepared herself for the worst. He finally opened his mouth to speak.

"Are you feeling okay? Do you need to sit down?" he finally asked. Lydia stared at him, her mouth agape just a little. He was so concerned, and she was so confused.

"Albert, I'm fine. What…"

"I don't quite know how to react," he said quietly.

"Neither do I, honestly. I don't know how to feel. I feel guilty about being happy to be becoming a mother, but at the same time, I'm scared and angry because of who the father is. No child deserves to be a part of that bloodline." She looked away. "Friends don't lie to each other."
"You didn't lie," he replied. "You told me nothing was wrong, and technically, you're healthy. Nothing was wrong. You just left some things out." Lydia tried to read him, but she wasn't sure she was doing a great job of it. "Albert, tell me the words. Tell me to stay or tell me to go. I won't blame you if you never want to see me again. But if you want, I'll gladly take your hand and keep going…with you." She was surprised when Albert reached out and took her hands in his.

"You never fail to surprise me, Lydia Grayson," he said with a slight amount of humor in his voice, but a serious overtone clung to it and held on for dear life. His fingers squeezed hers for a moment, and he stepped closer to her.

"What are you saying?" she breathed, holding back, bracing herself for disappointment. She'd been disappointed all of her life. What was once more?

"I'm saying that it doesn't matter," he replied. "It's the past. It's finished. You've moved on, haven't you? You took a step tonight, Lydia, and it was a big one." She watched him as the color returned to his face.

"I've tried to move on. I'm not worried anymore, if that's what you mean."

"There you go," he said with a smile. "Like I said…the past is the past, and all that matters is that I love you." He'd said it so quickly that he hadn't had time to stop himself! Lydia's eyes widened, and she took a step back, pulling her hands from his. She wasn't upset. She was shocked! Albert realized what he said, and he took a step toward her. She didn't back away, but she certainly continued to have a puzzled expression upon her face.

"You what?" she asked in a hoarse whisper. He loved her? She had to ask herself how he could love her after all of this, but before she could do that, she reminded herself that he was Albert. He was different. He wasn't most men, and for that she was grateful. "Albert?" His face was turning every shade of red imaginable, and she couldn't help but notice a hint of green, even in the moonlight. His forehead was perspiring, and she noticed him wipe his palms on the sides of his coat. "Albert? Say that…say it again." She half expected him to take it back or say he meant that he loved her as a friend. She didn't know what to think, and her entire world was spinning. When he reached for her, she didn't pull back, and she looked into his eyes. She saw the truth.

"I guess we all have our secrets," he said with a sheepish smile. Her heart began to pound as he looked at her like no man had ever looked at her before. She was frightened but not frightened at the same time. "I do love you, Lydia. I have from the moment I first saw you." She had to say something. Her brain forgot what the appropriate response was to such a statement. She hadn't been told that more than three times in her life counting her parents.

"Albert, I…" He moved toward her, his arm curling around her waist. She fell into him as his lips brushed against hers. She wanted to scream at that moment from all of the anxiety she was feeling, but his movements caressed that anxiety away, and it all felt so good, so right. She let him linger there, their first real kiss making her feel as if she was floating on air. He was the one to pull back, and she wasn't afraid anymore. She watched as he extended a hand to her.

"Do you still want to go to the party?" A smile flashed upon her lips, and her rosy cheeks glowed. She nodded.

"Yes, very much," she answered, her voice shaky but happy. Without further words, she took his hand, and he led her away.

Music filtered through the halls of the hotel, and the party didn't show any sign of stopping yet. This was a happy affair, and some were laughing, some were dancing, and some were drinking French champagne. The Quinn table was full, however, and as Sully and Josef talked, Michaela gabbed eagerly with Rebecca and Marjorie about wedding plans. They had been helpful enough lately without being too pushy, and Michaela was grateful. She was a little sad, however, because most women would be aggravated with their mothers for interfering so much, though Michaela was merely aggravated with Elizabeth for not being interested at all. No, Elizabeth was sitting quietly at the end of the table near Josef. Her hands were folded in her lap, her tea was untouched, and her dinner plate was merely cold and spoiled. Then, of course, Claudette and Maureen were listening politely with obvious disinterest, waiting for someone to pause in their speaking so they could talk about their own perfect, exceptional children.

Josef's boisterous laughter rattled the rafters, and it caused others to join it on the laughter as well. Michaela felt her flesh growing warm as Sully stole glances at her. She felt exposed, but at the same time, she felt hidden under Sully's protective, desirous gaze.

"Dr. Quinn?" came a woman's gentle voice from behind the table. Both Michaela and her father looked up at the sound of their name. But, Michaela relaxed when she saw that the woman was calling on Josef.

"Ah, Nurse Hardwick," Josef said with a smile. "Are you enjoying yourself tonight?"

"Yes, it's a lovely party, Dr. Quinn. Would you mind dancing with me? My escort stepped out for some fresh air, and this is my favorite tune," she said, her perfect blonde ringlets bouncing innocently at her shoulders. Michaela noticed her mother scowl, but she remained seated and calm when Josef stood and led the nurse to the dance floor. Josef hadn't danced at all that night, because Elizabeth had been too bitter and stubborn to try to enjoy her daughter's happy evening.

Michaela's attention turned toward her father and Nurse Hardwick as they turned about the dance floor like characters from whimsical fairy tales. She remembered a time when her mother used to dance with her father like that. She hadn't seen such a scene in twenty-two Christmases. She sighed and shook her head, laughing as the champagne took the best of her father and made him falter a bit. But, he was as stoic as ever, and he gained his composure, continuing to flutter about with Nurse Hardwick. Elizabeth grew paler by the moment, and Michaela knew that she wasn't jealous. She was merely guilty that she hadn't thought to ask Josef to dance first. But then again, no self-respecting Boston woman asked the man to dance in Elizabeth Quinn's eyes. To her, Nurse Hardwick was a naïve little girl who had a lot to learn about the world. You didn't just go about dancing about with whomever you saw fit to dance with. Unfortunately, Elizabeth was very shut off to anybody's feelings but her own on this night. She wanted to be paid attention to, and she knew it wasn't proper to ask for it.

Michaela felt a hand upon her shoulder, and she smiled when she looked up, realizing it was Sully. His dark hand against her pale shoulder was a strikingly beautiful contrast. He cleared his throat and smiled.

"May I have this dance?" he asked, his voice just above a whisper. Michaela's eyes sparkled.

"You may," she answered with a nod. Sully held his hand out, and Michaela's hand slipped into his. Sparks moved from hand to hand, from heart to heart, from body to body. He took her around the floor, his steps unsteady, yielding and somewhat clumsy. Michaela was awestruck. A man who's dancing knowledge was limited was willing to risk looking like a fool just to dance with the woman he loved. That was a man. He didn't look like a fool to her, however. Feeling his arms around her made her feel happy…ready. She dared to close the space between them, and their bodies melted together comfortably and beautifully. Others were speechless as their dancing seemed to float away, and they stood in the middle of the floor holding and hugging one another as they stared into each other's eyes.

Michaela was grateful for Sully's quick escape for her. He'd gotten her away from the table before any more tension could mount up between her and Elizabeth. When she noticed that everyone was watching them and not dancing at all, her face flushed the color of a hundred roses. Sully pulled her closer and whispered into her ear.

"Don't worry 'bout them. They're just jealous of how beautiful ya look tonight," he said quietly, gently nuzzling her ear with his nose. She grinned a little, and her gaze caught her mother's sickened, embarrassed expression. Josef quickly grabbed Elizabeth's hand and lead her, startled, to the dance floor. Other couples re-joined them, and Michaela breathed a sigh of relief. She didn't like being the center of attention. She liked making her opinions known, but being the center of attention certainly wasn't something she was comfortable with.

As if he was reading her mind, Sully took Michaela's hand and led her out onto the terrace. The dancing couples didn't seem to notice their escape, and Sully shut the double French doors behind them. The pale moonlight made the diamonds in Michaela's ears sparkle, and it made the thin mask of perspiration on her skin glitter like the nighttime stars.

"May I have this dance, again?" he asked, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. Michaela gave him a toothy smile, and she reached for his hands. He pulled her in, held her close and twirled her around. Their arms wrapped around one another, and the orchestra music filtered out through the glass of the French doors. The moonlight was their spotlight as they swayed to the music, lost in each other's eyes. He bent his head to brush his lips against hers, and she tilted her head up, grinning as his lips kissed hers. She felt as if she would melt into a puddle. She didn't want the moment to end, and when their lips parted, they held one another closer and felt as if they were one. But they wouldn't truly be one…not yet anyway.

The music changed, and Michaela smiled up at Sully. Their eyes twinkled, his azure stars, hers amber and olive oceans, merging into one. He went to speak, but her finger moved to press upon his lips. He kissed the pad of her finger, and as she leaned in, she replaced her finger with her lips, and she opened herself up to him. She sighed against his mouth, their breathing came in sharp rasps, and as the music climaxed, they were lost in one another.

Author's Note: Thank you all for your kind and helpful feedback and your generous words. Thank you for being honest with me, too, because honesty is the only way I can improve. Thank you so much! Chapter 25 should be along within the week. Ashley