Chapter 3
"Are you joking? Was there something I wanted? I want you, Maria. This last week was absolute hell. God, I've needed you, needed you desperately."
He seats himself on the bed, the mattress heaving under his weight, and gathers her close, until his rain-drenched clothing soaks through to her skin. There is his warm breath on her cheek, a kiss brushed across her lips. Are these misguided gestures intended as apologies or comforts? Because surely, he cannot intend to – but before she can protest, there is the push of his tongue in her mouth as he tugs her sodden nightgown aside and lowers himself onto her. Now he is pressing kisses against her neck, dragging his mouth lower and then lower still.
"If it is ever too much for you, all you need do is tell me to stop," he had promised.
So Maria gathers herself to object, forms the thought in her mind before it becomes speech:
Stop
But in the next moment, she swallows the word back, leaving it unspoken. Because she realizes this is her chance. Her chance to be present, to commit to memory every precious moment of the very last time ever that they will make love. Her traitorous body already knows it, desire flowering and spreading through every inch of her body, and so she clutches at his shoulders and lets him take her where he will, just as he always does.
But there is something different about it this time. Something sweet and tender, a lightness, as though they had all the time in the world, when in fact they have no time left at all. He is gentle, but persistent too, taking his time with her until her mind empties and the darkness explodes with stars.
Then there is nothing left to do but lie quietly and wait for him to speak. She feels the tears slipping sideways down her cheeks where his long fingers, cradling her face, discover them.
"Maria love, what is it? Did I hurt you?" In the aftermath, his voice has gone soft and low.
Not yet, but you will, Maria thinks. Even our lovemaking is different now. But she says nothing, only shakes her head.
"We need to talk," he says, "about what's going to happen next."
Until a few days ago, Maria would not have been able to imagine an end for them, but if she had, she would not have believed it could happen like this, while they still lay entangled, soaked with rain, sticky with salt and sweat and lust. And yet this was the one place, the first place in her life, where she had felt she really belonged! A flicker of anger blossoms deep within. She bolts upright and reaches for the bedside lamp. The darkness was for the two of them. Let him end it in the light.
"Where have you been?" she demands. "There was a telegram, and we had no idea where you were, or if you were safe. And why are you back so early? Frau Schmidt, she said you would be another week."
"I know all about the telegram, and the Bremerhaven business. They tracked me down in Vienna and gave me a few days to settle things with my family before reporting. But I could hardly speak freely to Frau Schmidt about my plans, not on the telephone - it was for safety's sake, for all of us. Now that it's just us, I can tell you the truth."
"I already know. You are not going to Bremerhaven. You are taking your family to Italy instead."
"Ita - how did you - no one is going to Italy, Maria. Now that they have requested my presence in Bremerhaven, it's far too late for that. No, we will go up over the mountains and cross over the border into Switzerland."
"Over the mountains? But the children!"
"We'll help them."
A mental image forms in Maria's mind: the Baroness, swathed in furs, teetering over the Alps in smart boots and a mink coat, styled hair unyielding to the fierce mountain wind. One hand holding a cigarette, the other holding Gretl's. Even in the depths of her misery, Maria has to stifle a laugh.
"And anyway," he continues, "we can't go to Italy because there is no way for us to take you, and even if the children could be convinced to leave you here, I cannot be."
Maria shakes her head, trying to dislodge the words that she wishes she has heard, but knows cannot possibly be right.
"But the Baroness-"
"-is staying in Vienna, where she thinks she belongs. She feels differently about the Nazis than I do. Says there's no way to stop it, even if I try, and she's right about that. In the end, it was all very amicable between the two of us, but the details were devilishly complicated. Even with the help of my solicitor, it took a week to agree on how to end the marriage."
"What?"
"Elsa is divorcing me."
"Divorce?" Maria shakes her head again, for she has never heard of such a thing, not in Austria, not among anyone she has ever known or read about.
"We have the Nazis to thank. The Germans frown on divorce, of course, but they are offering a one-time option for civil divorce for those who inconveniently find themselves married to people they consider the undesirables – Jews and so on, but also traitors. And a traitor is exactly what I will be when I fail to report to Bremerhaven. The papers are all drawn up. Twenty-four hours after we are across the border, Elsa will file them and be rid of me, and I will be a free man. Not only free of the Nazis, but free to marry you."
"Me?"
In the space of a few days, Maria has so firmly convinced herself that things between them are at an end, that she still cannot make sense of what she is hearing.
"Yes, you. Of course! Haven't I always told you I would find a way? Elsa agreed to all of it. The marriage can be annulled, as though it never happened."
"Baroness Schrader agreed to this?"
"She did. While I would like to tell you that it was an attempt on her part to make amends, you might as well know the truth. I gave her the house and a boatload of cash besides."
It is just another absurd development on top of the others: mountain escapes, divorce, and now this. "You gave her the house? This house?"
"It's just a house. My house," he shot her a boyish grin. "It's not going to do us any good, not where we're going. And it's more than a fair trade, seeing that I get you. And my freedom."
He rolls out of bed and begins to pace the room. It is less of a soldierly march and more of a prance, actually. Yellow lamplight softens his severe features and burnishes his unclothed and powerful body. She has never seen him this way, not so disheveled. For a man who is losing his home and his country, he looks awfully smug and even a little elated. Slowly, very slowly, Maria lets herself relax, releases the fear that has gripped her.
"Do you mean to tell me," she says cautiously, "that the two of us – you and me – that we are taking the children to Switzerland?"
"That's what I've been trying to tell you, yes. We'll slip out of here tomorrow – well, by now it's today, I guess, after dark."
"And we're getting married?"
"Yes. Assuming you'll still have me."
"What makes you think that I wouldn't -"
"Maria? What, may I ask, is that?" he interrupts her to gesture at the carpetbag, waiting by the door.
"Oh! I was just - ehrm - it's nothing. Look, if we are leaving later today, we'd better get some rest."
He is still staring at the bag.
"Let me understand, darling. You thought I would be gone for another week, and yet here you are, all packed and ready for what comes next, even though you could not possibly have known what that would be – Maria. You weren't running away again, were you?"
"Of course not," Maria says brightly. "But let's not worry about all of that. It's much too late, and there's an awful lot to do before tonight."
"Hm," he grunts. "There is quite a lot to do, yes, but apparently, the first order of business is to remind you of a few things you seem to have forgotten."
"I don't need reminding," she says hastily.
"Oh, but I think you do," and now he is prowling back toward the bed. "It seems like you forgot about me pretty quickly. About us. About how much I love you, about the promises I made."
"I did not forget!" Maria scrambles to her feet, trying to put some distance between them, but she is unsteadied by relief, desire and even a little bit of trepidation, all at once.
"You get back in that bed." There is a gleam of amusement in his eyes, but even so, his voice sends a shiver down her back. "And this time, Maria? I want the light on."
That command is the last thing she remembers. This time, he is relentless, ferocious, a wild animal. Maria gives into every one of his harsh demands and, overcome by joy, she makes a few of her own.
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"Be quiet!"
"Kurt! Shhh!
"Stop making so much noise!"
"I'm just going to knock, to see if she's still there."
"Don't you dare, Marta!"
"Let her sleep! She didn't look at all well, yesterday."
"But what if she's run away again?"
"Gretl, leave her be."
"Is that bacon I smell?"
Maria's eyes fly open. The rain is gone, and the room is bursting with bright sunlight that has chased away the shadows. She must have slept late, for the children to be assembled and arguing like this, just outside her door. Or perhaps she is still asleep and dreaming, for nothing is as it should be and everything is out of order: her Captain lies beside her, apparently relaxed into sleep, one arm thrown heavily across her waist as though to hold her near. She has never seen him this way, unclothed and awash in the morning light.
A low, deep chuckle. Eyes still closed, he murmurs, "I smell breakfast. Just give them a bit and they'll wander off."
She is happy to lie there for a few more minutes, simply to breathe him in. But when it seems that the children are safely out of hearing and she swings her legs out of bed, he clamps a hand around her wrist.
"A minute, Maria."
When she turns back toward him, his expression is grave and tender.
"We have some unfinished business between us. Now. I want a truthful answer from you. Did you really think I was going to abandon you?"
She makes a weak effort to deny it with a shake of her head, but finds herself nodding in shameful agreement.
"I mean, I knew you would never go to Bremerhaven, but-"
"Well, that's a relief, I suppose. To know that in your mind, I had some shred of honor left."
"Of course! Everyone knows you are the bravest, finest, most honorable man alive! I just thought that we – that I-" Maria searches for the words to explain something she hasn't ever let herself think, let alone speak aloud.
"I know what you think, Maria. You believe you don't deserve a happy ending, because you abandoned your vocation and let a married man into your bed."
"That is not true," she flares at him, although the tight feeling in her chest tells her he might be close to the truth.
"Of course, it's not true," he agrees. "No one deserves a happy ending more than you do, not after what you have done for me and my family. Nothing could ever convince me that loving you is wrong. There can be no room for guilt or shame between us."
"It's not only that – it frightens me, sometimes."
"I frighten you?" he quirks a smile.
"Not you, no, not exactly. It frightens me, how much I – how much I love you. How much I need you! I chose this, I chose you. And I know perfectly well that if I had it to do over again, I'd do exactly the same thing. How can I feel guilty about something I'd do again in a heartbeat?"
"Oh, my love," he gathers her onto his lap, holds her close so she can hear the reassuring thump of his heart. "I'm afraid I'm hardly the one to advise you or offer you absolution. I stopped asking God for anything when he took Agathe from me. And no one knows better than you do, that if anyone requires forgiveness, it's me. I am a deeply flawed man. Stubborn. Arrogant. I was cruel to my children. I let myself be talked into a marriage that should never have happened. Why, I'm the one who led you astray!"
"You didn't lead me anywhere I didn't want to go," she reassures him.
"I have a feeling that both of us will be forgiven, under the circumstances." He sighs deeply. "The world is a dark place right now, Maria, darling, and I need you by my side to find the light again. If, that is, you will do me the honor of choosing me just one more time. This time, it will be for life."
They sat in silence for a moment, before he presses his lips to her temple and shifts her from his lap. "Meanwhile, I'm sorry to have caused everyone so much worry. I'd better go down to breakfast, just to let them know I'm here and safe. Shall I wait for you to dress?"
"No, you go on ahead. I'll be along in a few minutes," and she waves him out of the room.
In the next moment, before she even stops to think about what she's doing, Maria finds herself sliding off the bed and onto her knees. The evidence of their lovemaking is all around her, in her discarded nightgown, the disheveled bed, even the lingering scent in the air. But her heart is steady and true and she knows someone is listening when she speaks the words aloud:
"Thank you."
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THE END (but stay tuned for a bonus chapter)
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Well, this was quite a little adventure, writing this story. (There is some basis for the divorce thing, although I mostly invented it). I really only intended to write what became the first chapter, for the romance and heat of it, and maybe I should have left it there. But I wanted to give an HEA to our favorite couple, plus I got swept up into some of the questions about how it would all work and how Maria's postulant-past would factor in. I really wanted her to be brave and loving and not consumed by guilt but I guess in the end I couldn't avoid a little guilt! Anyway, I'm not sure this ending really works, but I am anxious to move onto other projects. HOWEVER, like many of my reviewers, I can't help but be curious about Elsa's state of mind in all of this, so in return for the pathetic ending I gave you, I am going to publish a bonus chapter with her POV on the whole affair. Stay tuned! Meanwhile, I don't own TSOM I do it for love. Also happy tenth birthday Proboards Forum – if you'd like to be part of long chatty discussions in a friendly environment about your favorite moments in TSOM, the characters, or fanfic, please DM me!