Please

Lucien stood frozen when Jean hugged him sadly and walked away to bed. He knew what he'd done. He knew he'd broken her heart. After all the pain he'd already forced her to endure, he had only brought her more. No matter what she said, he knew it was only a matter of time before it was too much for her. He knew at any moment she would understand that he wasn't worth all of this.

It only took about three seconds for him to decide what he needed to do. For both their sakes. He took a deep breath to steel himself and followed her upstairs to her bedroom.

Jean had undone the top two buttons of her blouse to get ready for bed when there was a knock on her door. She heard Lucien's voice softly calling her name. "Come in," she replied, furrowing her brow in confusion and concern.

He entered slowly and carefully. "Jean, I wanted to tell you that I'll be going to stay at the Club for a few days. I know you need time to work things out, figure out what you want to do. You should be able to do that without having to deal with me hanging about. And it would probably do us both good to get used to being apart."

Jean's heart jumped to her throat. "What do you mean?"

His face softened in a sad expression. "I don't know how we can delay the inevitable. I love you, Jean, but I can't keep hurting you this way. I'm far more trouble than you deserve. So I'll go."

Words seemed to fail her in that moment. Lucien was…leaving? After all they'd suffered to be together, they were finally so close, and he was giving up? Did he really think her so shallow, so weak, so fickle that she wouldn't weather any storm to be with him? Had she caused him to doubt her love?

Jean just stared at him and felt the tears fill her eyes. She pressed her fingers against her mouth to keep from crying. Her other hand remained firmly against her stomach, as though her two hands could keep all the hurt and fear inside.

"Oh darling, I'm so sorry. I'd hoped I could spare you more tears this way. Please don't cry. I'll…I'll go now," he sputtered, horrified that his helpful gesture, his gentle way out for her, had backfired.

"No!" she croaked when he turned to leave.

He turned back tentatively.

Jean felt her lip tremble, but she couldn't help it. "Don't go. Please don't go."

"You needn't feel obligated to me, Jean. It's alright," he replied weakly.

She shook her head, astounded by how such a brilliant man could be so thick. Jean rushed forward to take his face in her shaking hands. "Please," she whispered, begging him. "Please, please."

Jean did not wait for him to respond. She pulled him into her kiss, devouring his lips with hers, willing all the passion and love she felt for this man to come though in her desperate attempt for him to understand.

Lucien held her in his crushing embrace, bowing to the weight of his need for her, allowing it to overtake his selfless and noble notions. The softness of her lips and heat of her tongue were a heady drug he knew he would never be able to give up. Even if he knew, rationally, that it would be better for her if she were to let him leave, he knew just as well that he could never let go of her.

But he did pull away, his forehead resting against hers, panting heavily. "Jean," he breathed.

"Don't go. Please don't ever go," she begged again.

"It would be better if it…"

"No," she interrupted, her hands gripping his shoulders insistently. "Lucien, I made my choice long ago. My heart decided for me even before that. I will marry you, I promise you that. But you have to let me make these choices with you. I cannot bear to be left out of our life anymore than I can bear a life without you in in it."

"I'm so sorry," he apologized.

Jean smiled softly and kissed him gently once more. "I don't need your apologies. I need you to be here with me."

"Always," he promised, kissing her again, sealing his vow.