Goodness gracious guys thanks so much for reading and saying such lovely things. It makes the writing worth it when I hear from you guys! I hope that you are all enjoying it and I'll keep updating until I run out of ideas. Thanks again. I really mean it!
-Becca
"I know," I whisper certainly, my gaze downcast. "I'm-" Another rough kiss once again cuts off this conciliatory statement and beckons me into silence.
I feel his hand gently wash the maelstrom of our mixed fluid away from my thigh before he travels upwards as he washes me more intimately. Hands laced with white bubbles travel over my stomach, causing tiny visible ripples in the muscles there. The white soapy trails spreads enticingly over my breasts, chest, neck and arms. I can't and it's too much; I can't understand his compassion and his tenderness, his love, is too much for me. I'm overwhelmed by his behaviour in the face of my recent actions. "I love you," I say firmly. He doesn't look at me or respond to my admission. I say it again, "I love you, Jean Luc."
No response. He only continues his endeavor of washing my body. I'm frustrated with him. I push him away from me, against with wall of the shower, and I force him to look at me. "I love you, Godammit! Jean Luc!" I'm crying again, but I have no more tears left to show for it.
"How could you, Beverly?" He shakes his head; he's in pain and I see clearly that I'm the cause of it. "How could you do that?"
"It wasn't me. I swear it wasn't me." I say that honestly. It really wasn't, but that doesn't seem to excuse my actions or absolve any of my culpability. I back away from him, but he pulls me back to him so that I'm flush against him. I wrap myself around him every way that I can. My arms slide around his neck and I fit my head against his chest.
"Please, Jean Luc, please forgive me. Please don't leave me! Please," I say it over and over again like a comforting mantra, "Please forgive me. Don't leave me".
"I forgive you, Beverly. And, I'll never, never, ever leave you." He sighs holding me even closer to him. He doesn't have to say anything else.
I breathe against him and lay a kiss on his chest. "Thank you."
/
"Beverly, is there anything you need or want before we leave?"
We decided to leave, more like flee, just after the burial. I didn't say anything else to the townspeople about Nana after yesterday; today, I didn't finish the eulogy and no one asked me to. Isn't that juvenile of me? I'm bitter, though. I'm bitter that Nana would have left this trap, this sham, to befall me. She knows I'm married! And even if I weren't, why would she wish this on me? I wonder in the back of my mind if Ronin coerced her. But, that still gives me no solace and I'm eternally hurt and damaged by this affair.
Jean Luc's forgiven me and I don't think I can ever repay or truly thank him for that. I don't know if he'll ever know what those two words of forgiveness meant to me. I wish there was a reset button for the last few days. I wish that I could erase the hurt that this scheme has caused both of us. I know intuitively that Ronin possessed me much like demonic entities possessed their victims in old religious texts and dogmas. But the way that I remember looking upon my husband with such disdain and disgust still haunts my thoughts. Over the past 12 hours, I've held onto him as much as I could. I've clutched him, made love over and over to him; I've realised that being joined to him makes my breathing easier.
With my small bag over my shoulder I survey the room in front of me. My eyes again come to Nana's chair and the handwritten books that litter the space around it. My curiosity and recent events drive me to finally look at the journals that I'd been so hesitant to peruse at for all of these years. I pick up the book that I set down only yesterday and thumb through to its last crisp pages.
The cursive is neat, as always, and I automatically read the last sentence as my eyes scan over it: Now at the end of all things, I look back and realize that my life is full of regrets. I'm going to leave this life and I've absconded everything that I once held precious: my family, my Beverly. I've become isolated, alone. And that's how I'm going to die. But, I remind myself that in the end, I was not lonely; I had Ronin, and he has brought me true happiness. I'm going to leave the candle lit for Beverly. I'm leaving her my most precious possession and my greatest love. I hope, above all things, that she'll find the same wonderful bliss with him that I felt, even up until the very end.
A single drop of saline bounces off the page and causes the ink to run. "But it wasn't real, Nana," I murmur, shaking my head and wiping away one last bitter tear.
"Beverly," startled, I let the journal fall and close its pained pages as I turn to what I know to be real. It's a knee jerk reaction and one that I'm accustomed to as I pull him towards me, causing him to drop the bags in his hands. "I have everything I need and you've given me more than I've ever wanted." I muffle against his shoulder, "Let's go."