"You would not believe the last two days I've had."
Narcissa tensed as Lucius collapsed into bed beside her, fully dressed and voice tight with exhaustion.
"Hm," she replied in a manner that she hoped conveyed stiff disinterest. Lucius rolled over and slung an arm around her waist, burying his face hungrily in her neck.
"First off, sadly-"
He stopped abruptly when he realized her entire body had gone rigid at his touch. He drew back uncertainly.
"Narcissa? Is something wrong?"
"Headache," she managed through numb lips.
"Oh," Lucius replied, sitting up and kicking off his shoes. However, before placing them neatly in the closet, he headed off to the bathroom. This was extremely unusual for him, and Narcissa couldn't help wonder, with sick horror as she heard the water run, if he was quickly washing off the scent of another woman. She closed her eyes before he reemerged, hiding the hurt visible there.
"Darling," he murmured softly, stroking the hair off her face. She twitched her head back, and cracked one lid. Lucius was crouched next to her, eyes circled with dark shadows. He was holding a small vial of potion and a glass of water.
"This will make your headache go away. It tastes a bit bitter, so I brought some water, too."
Narcissa sat up slowly, eyes welling. His gaze was concerned and adoring, and as she stared down his him, the tears spilled over.
"Does it hurt so badly?" he asked with soft urgency, rising with her to sit on the edge of the bed. "Do you need to go to St. Mungo's?"
She shook her head miserably. "I already took some," she lied, staring down at her lap blindly. "Hasn't started working yet."
"Oh. Narcissa, is that all that's upsetting you?"
She nodded hollowly, and sank back onto her pillow. It just didn't make sense; Lucius loved her. Love shone in the worry on his face, and the furrow of his brow. Every gesture and word belied his love for her... so how could he so callously have sex with other women and lie to her?
He doesn't love them. She knew it as surely as she knew her own name. There was no chance that he loved any but her, so the promiscuity was the worst of it. She couldn't leave him when they were still so deeply in love.
Lucius bent to kiss her forehead and, lost in thought, she permitted it, but turned away when he tried to dry the tears. She didn't miss the flash of confused pain in his eyes as he drew back and stood up, and for a moment a flame of indignant anger tried to flare within her- she was not the one at fault here- but it died quickly, dampened by her sadness.
With a heavy sigh, Lucius rose and put his shoes in the closet, and undressed with slow, tired motions. He seemed to deliberate for a moment, but after an uncertain glance at his wife, summoned the energy to take a shower. Afterwards, Narcissa heard him brushing his teeth, longer than normal, before he extinguished the lights and crawling into bed next to her.
In the darkness, there was a long pause where Narcissa guessed her was waiting for something. She stared into the nothingness, her back to him and blinked back more tears. Finally, despite her half-hearted rejections earlier, he gathered the nerve to place his hand on the curve of her waist.
"Lucius, my head hurts. I don't want to have sex tonight."
"I know," he told her quickly, and true, he'd made no further advances. Still, Narcissa scooted away from his touch.
"Can I just have a bit of space?" she exhaled, somewhat sharper than she'd meant to.
"Of course," he replied, hastily removing the offending hand. "Good night, Narcissa."
She didn't respond.
"I love you," he continued, and he sounded worried.
Does he suspect that I know? she wondered.
Beside her, Lucius's stomach was twisting with repressed panic. Just calm down, he told himself firmly. Just because she's not feeling well, there's no need to think she's upset with you. She had told him before that, just because she didn't want sex, it wasn't because he'd done something wrong- he repeated this to himself over and over again. But he didn't need to have sex with her right now; he just wanted to hold her. Why couldn't he do that? Was it such a bad headache that it made her want no contact at all?
Deep down inside, Lucius knew this wasn't true. Something was bothering her, and even if she didn't want to share right now, he assured himself that she would soon.
However, that didn't help him tonight. Every bone in his body ached in exhaustion, and if she'd just let him put his arm around her, he knew that he'd fall asleep immediately. If he could just... but, no. Not if it would cause her further discomfort.
Meanwhile, Narcissa's left arm was throbbing from laying on her side for so long. She never slept in that position, and it was immensely uncomfortable, so at last, she rolled on her back to relieve the pressure, all the while keeping a safe distance from the man beside her.
The minutes stretched on, and Narcissa was dozing off when she felt the lightest tickle against her knuckle. She twitched awake, fearing a bug, but it dawned on her that it had been only the brush of Lucius's fingers. She settled, waiting to see what he wanted, and was rather surprised to feel his hand slide beneath hers, palm up.
Narcissa was grateful for her darkness, because tears were flowing unbidden now, over her temples and into her hair as she stared up at the blackness of the ceiling. He wasn't looking for sex; he just wanted to hold hands with her as they fell asleep.
In all honesty, she wanted it too, but recalled too vividly that those hands, during their marriage, had caressed other women. Trying not to gasp a sob, she withdrew her hand and placed it on the sheets a bit further away. She could almost hear Lucius's crushed expression, and normally he would give up, but it was obvious that his need to have some physical contact with her was overwhelming him.
He shifted anxiously, and waited once more. He could just barely distinguish the shape of her white hand, and once her breaths became deep and even, let his hand creep across the mattress once more. He didn't make the mistake of disturbing her this time; instead, he carefully let the side of his hand touch hers, their pinky fingers side by side. Heaving a deep breath, Lucius shut his eyes and firmly told himself that it was enough.
The next morning, Narcissa woke to find the bed beside her empty. However, Draco's shrieks of happiness could be heard from the nursery, so she could rest assured that her husband was still in the Manor. She dressed but did not join them; instead, she headed down to the dining room for breakfast. Lucius appeared several minutes later, looking confused.
"I didn't realize you were up," he murmured as he fixed Draco in his highchair. "We always have breakfast together."
"When you're home," she replied coolly.
"But... I am home."
She shrugged, efficiently ending the conversation. Lucius watched her carefully as he was served, and didn't touch his food.
"Narcissa, please tell me what's upsetting you."
"Nothing," she insisted. "Absolutely nothing at all."
"Are you feeling better?"
Narcissa nodded, not meeting his eye. Lucius fingered his silverware, but seemed to have no appetite.
"How was your day yesterday?"
The worst of my life. "Oh, it was alright. Lyssa and I went out. She's quite taken with Draco, you know. She wants her own baby so badly. And Severus came over for dinner; he's doing well, keeping busy with working. He says hello."
Lucius nodded. "I've been quite busy the past two days. Firstly, when I got to work the day before yesterday, I learned that my secretary-"
"Lucius," she interrupted abruptly, rising before she could think. She didn't want to hear any lies about the likely-fictitious Bertha Hopkirk. "I have to just the loo. And don't you need to be leaving for work soon?"
Lucius swallowed whatever words had been forthcoming, and stared at her for a long moment before nodding slowly. "I suppose I do. But if there's something you want to tell me-"
"There's nothing, Lucius!" she exclaimed, hurrying from the room. Once out of sight, she figured she had little option but to go to the lavatory.
When she returned, Lucius was cleaning Draco up and lifted him from his chair.
"I should probably go now," he murmured, stealing a glance at her. Narcissa nodded, and stepped forward to take their son.
"Have a nice day at work," she told him automatically.
He nodded. "I love you, Narcissa." His voice sounded hoarse.
"Love you too," she replied mechanically, reaching for Draco.
Heart pounding and throat dry, as he passed her their son, he swiftly ducked his head to kiss her. He needed to know that he could; he needed the physical affirmation of what she'd just told him.
Narcissa had foreseen the move, and stepped aside with her boy securely in her arms. "Goodbye, then."
He was silent for an uncomfortably long beat, staring blankly at the air where she'd stood a moment before. "I'll see you for supper, then," he managed roughly at last, heading for the fireplace in his study to floo.
Narcissa doubted she could keep this up for too long. It was difficult to be cruel to him when he looked at her as though every cold word or gesture broke his heart. Once she was certain he'd gone, Narcissa headed for her own hearth.
"Lyssa? Are you there?" she called, eyes moving over the flat the Lestranges shared. After a minute, Lysandra emerged from the corridor that led to her bedroom wearing only a bathrobe.
"Merlin Cissy, it's early! What's up?"
"Can you come over? I need to talk to you," she choked.
"Yeah, alright," she agreed quickly, not even bothering to dress for the day as she moved towards the fire. "Stand back."
A second later, she appeared in the Manor.
"What's going on?"
"I love him, Lyssa. And he loves me. I can't leave him."
Lysandra frowned. "After what he's done- what he may be doing, as we speak! -you're just going to go on as if nothing is wrong?"
"No. I'm going to confront him. Tell him I know and ask him to stop."
Lysandra was still frowning. "Not a good idea, Narcissa. Remember that time you told me about, when he offered you divorce papers because he thought it would make you happy? What if he's so ashamed once he finds out that you know, he can't bear to be married anymore? And even if it's not that extreme, it'll still change your relationship forever; probably get so bad you'll begin to wish you'd just left him."
"I don't want to leave him! Ever!" she cried. "But I can't stand the thought of him touching me, knowing what he's doing to other women."
"But then-" Lysandra broke off abruptly, eyes widening. "Oh, Cissy, then don't! Make your marriage how you want it. Listen to him talk about his day, share your feelings and thoughts- those unrelated to his infidelity, of course- and life will go on. But no sex. Absolutely no touching. He's already getting that from other women, and if he's sullying himself with them, you shouldn't have to share in that filth."
Narcissa hesitated. "I don't know if that would work."
"Of course it will! You're the most important emotional bond in his life. Sex he can get anywhere, but you, you're important. He'll be sad when he can't have you anymore, and maybe it'll make him realize that you're everything he wants, and he'll give up the other women."
"You really think that would do it?" she asked, somewhat doubtful, but Lysandra nodded eagerly.
"Oh Cissy, if you stick with that, I'm sure he'll be swearing off all others in no time."
(A/N: So it's the last week of summer break, and once school starts, updates will be less frequent, which leads me to this: Based on the dramatically diminishing number of reviews for this story, I'm led to believe that interest in it is decreasing. I promise this isn't one of those If-you-don't-review-I-won't-write sort of situations, but since my time will soon become much more restrained, if there's not much interest in this, then I'll work on some other stories posted on this site. I mean, I already know what happens, so I'd be just as happy to put Forsaken Love on the backburner for a while, so to speak, if you guys aren't into it anymore. Let me know what you think!)