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CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Marina was greeted with soft cotton sheets and a warm naked body when she awoke in the morning. She opened her eyes slowly. She was spooning Clara, an arm resting over her waist, their legs tangled. She stretched lazily and nuzzled in closer, her lips coming to rest on the nape of Clara's neck. She smiled. Outside, the day was yet young. A blue sky beckoned with the promise of apple blossoms and coffee, the sound of traffic muted behind double glazed windows but they held no power over her. This was perfect. She drifted somewhere between sleep and waking, her fingers stroking Clara's silky skin.

"Morning my love." Marina said when Clara stirred, propping herself up her head on her elbow as a mussed Clara turned onto her back. "How did you sleep?"

"Mmmmm. So good." she said, blinking sleepily. She smiled and the whole room seemed to brighten. She moved in to kiss Marina. "You?"

"Never better."

They looked at each other with new eyes, memories of last night fresh in their minds. Clara blushing delicately, her eyes dropping, suddenly shy.

"Last night was … wow." Marina said.

"It wasn't... I don't know. Disappointing?"

"Why would you say that?"

"Because I was so nervous, and I didn't know what I was doing -"

Marina lifted her chin with a finger so she could say in all sincerity, "You were... amazing. Amazing, my love, believe me... did you find it ...disappointing?"

Clara smiled and said, "No! No, it was beautiful. Just beautiful."

A hand trucked a strand of Marina's hair behind her ear, lingering as Clara looked up, her warm brown eyes shining. "I never knew it could be like this, Marina. It was so... tender. So loving. So warm. Do you know what I mean?"

"It's because we love each other." she said happily and kissed her, laying her head on Clara's shoulder,enjoying the sensation of their naked bodies entwined.

They lay cocooned in each others arms talking quietly, hands caressing. Laughing. Soft kisses deepened into something more earnest. Marina felt a tightening in her belly. She could feel Clara, receptive beneath her lips, inviting her deeper. They moved without hurry, allowing each moment to linger, taking their time as they explored each other anew, fingertips trailing goosbumps, lips worshiping body, hands kneading flesh. It was slow but heady, their desired yawned wide and deep and they groaned into it. Clara's hand tangled itself into Marina's hair, holding her close, urging her deeper, while the other hand caressed the length of her back to her bottom and up again. When they pulled back and looked into each other's eyes, Marina saw none of the hesitancy from the night before, she saw only a desire that pulled her in, she could drown in that gaze. It made her chest constrict with a feeling so beautiful she didn't know how she could feel it and not burst. This woman who radiated light, this woman who was so strong and yet so soft, this woman that she had looked for in every relationship she'd had was, finally, willingly in her arms and she knew that she was changed forever by her presence. Clara had reached in and touched that deeper part of herself, something she had barely known existed, that timeless place where the soul resides, where truths lives untainted by the grey shades of the physical world, where things are unsullied, pure. Her desire in that moment was to make Clara know this, so she imbued every touch with all her love, her joy and tenderness. She watched Clara respond, teased up, drawn in, hair fanning out over the white of the pillow.

Marina moved to straddle her and rocked, their sex sliding wet together. She watched Clara's gaze darken as she looked up at her, feeling Clara's hands run up her stomach, over her breasts, sending shivers down her spine. Her eyes closed feeling the heat between her thighs. She slid her hand between them to increase the pressure. Clara gasped, arching off the bed, her fingers pinching at her pebbled nipples. Electric. Marina rocked harder, feeling that delicious build up. Sigh, gasp, moan. Clara sat up, her fingernails scraping down Marina's back, her head dipping to claim a breast. Marina wrapped her legs around Clara's waist, crying out as a slow tongue circling her nipple. A tingling radiated out, she could feel their energies mingling, coaxing them up towards that peak. The newness of this lover's touch, the knowledge that her lover was Clara. Clara. It undid her. Her fingers curled around the back of Clara's neck. This wasn't enough, not close enough, not fast enough. Softness gave way to something more primal. She pushed Clara onto the bed, spreading her legs. She circled the wet, swollen opening, watching Clara lie there, chest heaving with anticipation. She pushed a finger in, then two. She moved to hover over her, her hair falling in a curtain about their face, just the two of them in all the world. She watched her. Closed eyes, parted lips, pants growing ragged as Marina thrust in and out. It was like she could see the wave rolling up Clara's body and it was so beautiful. She lowered herself onto a leg, the contact making her hiss and she began undulate her hips. Clara's hands rose, pushing her down harder. They kissed, moaning into each other's mouths, moving in synchronicity. The measured pace became erratic now, their moans accelerating, desperate as they tried to merge together, to become one, grasping at each other, feeling the tide of their desire draw back, gathering to a crescendo, until they were crying out, until they were exploding. Rapture.

They lay tangled, Marina collapsed on top of Clara, her breath shaky. She wanted to laugh and cry all at once. She wanted to fling open the balcony doors and shout her love to the world outside, she wanted to hole up in this bed and keep Clara to herself forever. They drifted for some time before the day called out to them.

They checked out, leaving their luggage at reception for pick up before their flight that evening. The sun shone and the stretched before them with tantalizing possibility. Together they meandered the streets to a boulangerie that Marina loved. They sat outside at the little round table with it's red and white checkered table cloth, their cafe au lait and a croissant. Beneath the table their feet touched as if, of their own accord, their bodies sought each other out.

This being Clara's first time in Paris, Marina suggested they walk the cobbled riverside to catch the bateaux mouches down the river Seine to Notre Dame. On the boat they took a selfie, their happy faces smiling up at the camera. Marina turned Clara's face and kissed her as her phone camera clicked again, and then again as Clara buried her head in Marina's shoulder in embarrassment. They held hands sitting in the yellow seats side by side.

The area outside the Notre Dame was crowded with tourists of which there was a constant stream entering and leaving the impressive building. Tourists posed in front of the building for photos, a musician played 'La Valse d'Amilie' on the accordion, wearing the beret and the black and white striped top, bowing with a sonorous 'Merci bien!' when tourists dropped a few coins in. A large bear like man in his late twenties walked through the crowd with a sign that said 'FREE HUGS' in English. A dottery old man with a cane walked up to him and opened his arms, the young man swept him with glee. Inside, despite all the people, there was a hush.

They walked side by side to the wooden pews where some people knelt, their heads bent in prayer. Clara crossed herself, they sat down and looked at the stain glassed windows, the pillars, the stone work. Marina had to admit that it was a beautiful building in its imposing way. The photographer in her couldn't help but admire the way the light filtered through the coloured glass, a sense of an old Paris was tangible in the air. She could imagine the men, women and children coming to church in a time long past where their love would have earned them both a fiery death.

When she looked she saw that Clara had knelt down, her hair falling forward to obscure her face and her hands clasped in front of her. She stayed for some time in prayer without moving. Then she murmured 'amen' and sat back up. She stayed a moment her hands clasped to her heart, her face serene and then she drew breath and opened her eyes, looking to Marina.

"You're not religious, are you?" she asked quietly.

"Not particularly, my love. My family is Catholic and I was baptized, but we never went to church."

"I confess we only ever seem to go for the big celebrations."

"But you have the faith. That is clear."

"I do. Very much so. I prayed every day for God and the saints to show me the path I should take."

"I'm so glad they pointed you towards me." Marina said and smiled.

"They did. Consistently and unerringly. And for that I thank them, from the bottom of my heart."

Clara took Marina's hand in her lap and interlaced their fingers as they sat side by side in the church of God.

"I'm curious, Clara." Marina said, looking at the their hands, "Did you ever think that loving me could be wrong in the eyes of God?"

Clara seemed to think a moment. "No." she finally said. "The God I believe in is a God of love. How could he condemn something so beautiful?"

"It is beautiful, isn't it?" Marina said.

"Yes. It is." Clara said a soft smile on her lips. "But what about you. Do you believe in God, Marina?"

"I believe... in something. Maybe not in the God that the church portrays, but I believe there is more to life than this, that when we die, it isn't the end. That God, the universal consciousness, whatever you call it is love and love is powerful because it shines light on even the greatest darkness, that it can heal even the deepest wounds. So when you experience love, you honour it because you are experiencing God."

"That's beautiful" Clara said squeezing her hand her eyes warm. "I feel the same way."

xxx

The Sacré-Cœur rose proudly above the narrow streets of Monmatre, its white edifice bright against the blue of the sky. When Marina had asked if Clara would like to visit the the Louvre or the Museé d'Orsey, she had said that a day like today was simply too beautiful to waste indoors, even if it did mean missing out on iconic artwork. They'd walked along the river a ways, passing stalls with paintings and photographs, second hand books and souvenirs where Clara bought a few gifts for Ivan. A twenty minute taxi drive found them walking up the charming cobbled street that lead to the base of the Monmatre hill where the roman-catholic church resided. It was breathtaking in quite a different way from the gothic Notre Dame, seemed to tower above the district like a benevolent protector. To the left a merry-go-round a la Mary Poppins played its carnival music and flights of stairs rose up on either side, leading to the top of the hill and highest point in Paris. They meandered their way up to the top, Clara's hand gently massaging the skin of Marina's neck. They sat on a bench watching the view that overlooked the bustle of Paris, spreading far and wide.

"I wish we didn't have to go back this evening." Marina sighed, her hand tracing a lazy line along Clara's forearm.

"A few more days here with you all to myself would be...amazing."

"Alas."

"Alas."

"I'm glad we had this time together though."

"It's been a gift, Marina. An oasis." Clara said, kissed Marina's cheek and placed her head on her shoulder.

Marina closed her eyes, a small smile playing on her lips. She could feel Clara's cheek against her skin and the flutter of eyelashes as Clara blinked.

"I guess then it'll be back to reality." Marina said.

"It'll be back to something."

"Have you spoken with Cad about what'll happen?"

"He doesn't want to talk to me. I guess I can't blame him, he's hurting. We'll have to talk when I get home, sort some thing out. I suppose I should move out, seeing as I'm the one that left him."

"What about Ivan?"

"I'll stay with Helena. That way I'll be just down the corridor from him."

"I suppose you coming to stay with me is out of the question then?"

"Marina, my love, I'm sorry. I need to be close to my son, I need to make sure that whatever happens, he's okay."

Marina frowned. "What do you mean, whatever happens?"

Clara sat up, looking at the hands in her lap, a slow breath filling her lungs. "He said he'd fight for sole custody."

"Really?"

"He won't win, he has not legal leg to stand on, but I'm afraid...afraid that his anger will hurt Ivan. That his anger at me will make him do and say things that could hurt my son."

Marina slipped her hands into Clara's, gently squeezing them and when Clara looked up, Marina could see the tears gathering.

"I'm sorry." Marina said softly.

"What are you sorry for?" Clara said with a small laugh as she tried to shake it off. "It's not your fault."

"Isn't it?"

"What do you mean?"

"I knew you were married. I pursued you just the same, without a second thought."

"Did we have a choice? Could you have walked away, Marina?"

Marina turned to look at the view as if the answer lay in hidden in the network of streets beyond.

"No."

"Neither could I. This is bigger than us, somehow. I don't think we could have walked away if we tried - And it's not like we didn't try."

"We didn't try too hard."

"Because we knew it was pointless. When it came down to it, I couldn't give you up. I didn't want to! Our situation was hard enough, why make it harder?"

Marina smiled and kissed Clara's temple

"I don't know what I would have done if you'd walked away, Clara."

"You would have been fine."

"I don't think I would have been. I'm not strong like you."

Clara frowned. "You're one of the strongest women I know!"

"You under estimate yourself, Clara. I admire the fortitude you've had and the grace and light with which you handled it all. Seeing you like that helped me stay strong."

Clara laughed, tucking a strand of hair behind Marina's ear, her thumb stroking her cheek. "Funny, because you helped me stay strong."

With her finger tips she turned Marina's face to hers and kissed her. Marina looked into her warm eyes and felt a burst of happiness in her chest. Here she was in Paris on a gorgeous spring afternoon sitting on a bench with this amazing woman. And this amazing woman was with her.

Xxxx

They ate in a bistro down the street and were just finishing when Marina's phone rang. Clara watched as she fished it out of her bag and frowned at the caller id.

"Vanessa? What is it-" she said. "Calm down, Van, calm down! What is it, what's wrong?"

Clara watched as Marina her face dropped away. Her skin prickled.

"But...Van, how... I … I don't understand. Yes, no, of course, of course, right away, I'll see what I can do...Oh God, I don't believe..." her face dropped into her hand. "How, Van? Tell me...Everything? Are you serious? I... Oh God." She was standing up, grabbing her wallet and throwing some cash on the table. She grabbed Clara's hand and they were exiting onto the street. They hurried down the road, Clara's alarm growing progressively. She could guess at what had happened. She hailed down a taxi cab while Marina continued to talk, taking her free hand and squeezing it as they sped through traffic back to the hotel.

When she hung up, Marina turned to Clara, her face pale. There was shock in her eyes and when she spoke, it was as if she couldn't believe what she was saying.

"It's gone, Clara. The house, the studio... everything. I've lost everything."