Joshua
Sean's face pales at my words and instantly I regret letting them escape my mouth. For six years I let him believe I didn't know. I'd watched him so carefully when he came back to me. I'd watched the anguish of his secret tear him apart and never once told him I knew. I should have, I know that now, just as I knew it then. We could have talked; we could have mended the pain a long time ago. But for some reason, unknown to me, I just couldn't tell him. I couldn't tell him that I had felt every touch of his hand on her skin. I couldn't tell him that he had taken me with him when he'd gone. I didn't understand it, couldn't comprehend the feelings of being one with her to the point that when he touched her, he touched me. But it wasn't that simple either. It was me touching her. How do you wrap your mind around something so completely, unbelievably insane? I still, to this day, don't get it.
And now he knows and the guilt of the act is again burning through his mind.
As I drop from my chair, onto my knees, and lay my head in his lap, I hear his breath begin to hitch. I rise up to his face and brush away the tears that start.
"I'm sorry, Sean. I should have told you long ago that I knew. Maybe we could have figured out why you felt you had to do it. Maybe then, this thing," I scratch at my chest, "this shard wouldn't still be pushing into my heart."
Sean shakes his head, sobbing now, tortured sounds coming out of his mouth.
"I didn't. I didn't."
"Sean, I saw it in your eyes, I saw it from your eyes. I felt her skin beneath your hands while feeling your skin beneath hers. I saw, heard, felt, tasted, smelled everything. I don't understand it. I don't know why or how, but I did. You took me with you when you went to her."
"Noooo."
Sean's eyes close tight and his clenched hands press against his temples. Why did I have to say anything? Why couldn't I just let it go? His cries rip through my heart, burn into my mind. I can't stand the pain of them, but what can I do? This has to end. It's only a short matter of time before he begins to feel what I've carried with me for the last six years. We're too close now for him not to feel it.
Putting my hands up to his, I gently bring them down and hold them to my lips. He's trembling, but his cries have subdued. I brush my cheek along his fingers, close my eyes, and sigh. We still need to talk. I have to know why, but for now, let me rest in the feel of his skin.
I can see her face behind my closed lids. Her crystalline green eyes, shining as tears spill down her cheeks. I never understood that either. Why was she so sad? He gave himself to her, gave me to her, and yet she wept. Why? Nothing makes any sense, except the feel of his fingers stroking along my cheek. I concentrate on this, kiss the tips of his fingers, and rest my head on his knees. He's everything I want, everything I need.
"I was lost in the dream."
His voice flows out in a smooth whisper. It floats in the air like feather gently resting on a summer breeze. I can feel myself melt into his voice, letting it surround my soul. I smile a little. His voice always does this to me. No matter what his words are, his voice, when he speaks this way, calms my soul.
"I never thought you would be drawn into it with me."
"Lost in what dream?"
He sighs and moves a hand to my hair. Shivers run down my back as he combs his fingers in along my scalp. I could almost purr in contentment, instead, I moan and draw his hand closer to my nose. The smell of his skin, the touch of his fingers, brings my need for him to the forefront of my mind. It pushes the image of her face back. It softens the point of betrayal in my heart.
"It was a strange dream. I don't remember it completely, just bits and pieces. But, I know it was the reason for the union."
His hand flinches as his fingers continue to comb through my hair.
"It wasn't her I made love to. It was you."
"I don't understand, Sean. You were with her."
"Yes. I don't understand either. I never understood. I only knew that there was a purpose, something important, but it was you I carried in my heart. When I touched her skin, it was yours I felt."
Maybe that was the answer. I don't know. Right now, I don't care. Right now, all I want to do is make love to him. Music starts in the living room and makes its way up and out of the balcony door.
I raise my head and turn to the door. "I thought Jenna left."
"I guess she wasn't finished."
He stands and helps me to my feet. `Love is Forever' plays downstairs. After hearing it the first time not long ago, it quickly became our favorite song.
Nuzzling into the crook of my neck, he whispers, "Dance with me," and I hold him close and begin to turn. Soon we are gliding together, molded and spinning as one being. This is the way it's supposed to be. This is the way I want it to be, forever.
The song ends and I bend to his mouth. He gives me his breath with his kiss. Apricot brandy on his tongue. It isn't a flavor I enjoy on its own, but mingled with the taste of Sean, I find myself wanting more. The sun is gone, replaced by a dark starlit sky. I break away from Sean's kiss and momentarily gaze up into the night sky. I often wondered at people's perception of the night being black. I suppose it is, but in my mind, it was blue. Deep, dark, all enveloping blue. The color molds itself to everything around, shifting to pale shades at light sources, but still everywhere.
Sean's head rests against my throat, his soft curls brushing up, under my chin. I love the feel of his hair on my face. Often, I stand with him held tight to my chest and press my cheeks, lips and nose into it. I close my eyes and breathe in his scent. Tonight, as I breathe him in, I am stunned as visions and memories rush through my mind. They run through so quickly they become nothing more than a blur, but a blur of one continuous theme. Sean. I'm getting dizzy with the speed of the assault and am brought to a sudden and inexplicable halt as one stands out from the others.
Standing on the beach, staring out as the water recedes and grows into a wave of tidal proportions, is a child. A boy, slight in frame with soft, golden-brown curls that rest on bronzed skin. He stands quiet and still as the tidal wave builds out in the distance, alone and seemingly unafraid. Slowly, he begins to turn, and I feel myself begin to shudder with the expectation of what I will see in his young face.
"Josh?"
He's turning.
"Joshua?"
Completely turned now, the wave at his back. His eyes stare back at me, royal blue, and he smiles.