NAVIGATING THE IMPASSE

by Peg Ray

There’s a first time for everything. The refrigerator magnet declaring that simple statement in black lettering against a bright yellow background was hanging at eye level. It had been given to her by Geoffrey years ago as a Christmas present. He was so proud that he found it in pristine condition and meant it to reflect her developing life with the tunnel folks including Vincent. The message reminded her daily of the possibilities.

Yes, there’s a first time for everything. Unless, of course, there isn’t, Catherine thought ruefully as she stared into the mirror reflecting her forty-five-year-old visage. The few strands of gray hair were skillfully disguised in the artificial highlights she maintained. Where had the last fifteen years of her life gone waiting for Vincent to move towards love? They had reached an impasse a long time ago, remaining loving friends, but there had been no moving forward to make their dream a reality.

She had remained physically if not emotionally celibate since she had met him. She loved him with all her heart, and she had believed that he loved her, too. But nothing in their relationship had moved forward since her stay with Vincent after her father’s death. He appeared content with the status quo and apparently could go on forever with just hugs, his emotional connection to her through the bond, and the occasional kiss to the top of her head.

Catherine sighed. Her prudent child-bearing years were behind her now, representing a significantly lost portion of her dreams. She had entered perimenopause early in her forties with all its delightful hormone swings swatting her emotions around like baseballs in a batting cage. The hot flashes disrupted her concentration, and the night sweats robbed her of sleep, leaving her sometimes irritable and appearing to have lost all sense of reason. She was in serious doubt of the rationality of her thought processes.

She had given up her career in the District Attorney’s Office long ago to ensure his safety and worked on an as-needed basis for Luz Corales. She also did volunteer work on suicide hotlines and in soup kitchens. It was not the type of work that landed her in the society pages, but it gave her a sense of meaningfulness by offering one small gift at a time.

The purchase of a brownstone with tunnel access had been made to facilitate the life she thought they would share together after he allowed her back into his life following the last banishment. She no longer had a social life due to a lack of interest and the slow distancing of her friends from Above. She had placed all her hopes in the basket of Vincent’s love, but it was somehow no longer enough for her. There was no blame to assign because she had made the choices freely with her eyes open. Still, she had always held the hope in her heart that he would finally come around and be able to love her completely.

She had once told him that if this were her fate, she would accept it gratefully. She had believed that wholeheartedly when she said it. And she had upheld that belief until recently. Maybe it was the shifting hormones affecting her reasoning, but she was becoming resentful about giving up so much for a life with Vincent when there was no forward progress in sight.

The life shared with him as a committed lover had never materialized. They were still existing in their separate worlds carving out moments as available to spend time together. These chances were often still measured in minutes and seconds with the longer gaps between their meetings never discussed. If the bond had alerted him to her conflicted feelings, he had not mentioned it. He claimed the restored bond was less intense than it had been before his mental breakdown. He appeared to be as emotionally committed to her as ever. He had even uttered the words “I love you” at least a dozen times.

She wondered if love meant the same thing to him as it did to her. He could quote sonnets and great works of literature about love and all its glories, but maybe love was only theory to him. Maybe love did not have the same substance for him as it did for her. Maybe he could only understand chaste love. If this was the case, it might be time for her to reconsider her choices. She hated the idea of going to her grave without ever again experiencing the joy of being held in a man’s arms while they made love. And the man she needed to make love with was Vincent. The conundrum had her baffled. Maybe she should just wait for full menopause to totally stifle her libido and all would be well.

It was time to get ready for her date with Vincent in the music chamber. Another concert in the park was scheduled in two hours. How many times had this scenario been repeated over the years? They would cuddle together on the pillows beneath the grate, listen to the orchestral performance, and share their thoughts and feelings about the music, their lives, and their dreams. It was status quo all the way. They were living what little life they spent together on the default setting. Inertia held them firmly in place. Nothing ever changed.

Since the weather was cooler, she opted to dress casually in slacks and a sweater rather than one of the many dresses she had worn for him over the years. She had stopped purchasing any new ones long ago since she didn’t need them for a non-existent social life. She had always taken care of her skin, so her middle-aged complexion was fine and required little makeup to make her presentable. She opted to keep her hair straight with no additional styling for this evening. She automatically reached for the crystal necklace nestled in the cut glass bowl on her dresser, then changed her mind and left it behind.

With one last look in the mirror, she went to wait in the living room until her departure for the tunnels. She didn’t want him to feel her dissatisfaction and resentment, so she stuffed her emotions into a neutral blank.

* * *

Vincent had spent the past week occupied in the lower tunnels with a crew clearing a cave-in near the Great Hall. He was bone tired yet looking forward to his evening with Catherine. It had been seven days since he had last seen her and that was torture to him. She was the reason he lived. He couldn’t wait to gaze into her eyes again and hold her close as they listened to the music.

He often still wished that they could take their relationship further, but the time for that gamble seemed to have passed them by due to the mutual acceptance of their chaste love. They never even spoke about moving toward a physical relationship anymore, so he assumed that was what she wanted. He didn’t blame her since he realized that he had long ago convinced her the risk of such a relationship with him might put her in danger.

It was difficult to broach a subject that had been left in silence for so long. Although he had experienced no encounters with his other self since she had left the DA’s office and its ever-present danger, he was still aware that it might be lurking under the surface if he should lose control in a moment of passion.

Tonight was the fourteenth anniversary of the first concert they had attended together, and he wanted to make it special. He opted to dress in his finest clothing and boots to honor the occasion. As he tied the cravat of his dress shirt he thought about the long years of their relationship and how much joy she had brought into his life. He had emotionally matured and understood that the desire for a physical expression of love was a natural step as affection for the other person deepened. Yet, he had never allowed them to progress any further than they were at the time of her father’s death. He had noticed years ago after his mental breakdown that she had relinquished the initiation of physical contact between them to him. She no longer rushed into his arms upon their first meetings as she had in the beginning.

He absentmindedly brushed at his hair to tame the amber cloud of tresses into some semblance of order. He reached out with the bond to touch her mind, anticipating her excitement, and was startled to find her strangely silent. He could feel no emotion coming from her, but he knew she was conscious and in no danger.

This was something new. He was used to touching her throughout the day and finding her basically content with an occasional irritation he assigned to her job. He began to worry. He set the brush on his dresser and placed the rose’s pouch around his neck. He donned his cloak and left his chamber to meet her at the brownstone threshold.

* * *

Catherine descended the final steps to her threshold and turned to see Vincent standing at the break in the brick wall that divided their worlds. He was dressed to the nines to please her, yet she had made little effort in her appearance for him. She smiled as she stepped over to him.

“Hello, Vincent. I’ve missed you. And you look very handsome this evening.”

Her voice was soft and sincere as ever, but he noticed that the smile on her lips was not reflected in her eyes. Something was wrong.

“Catherine.” He uttered his beloved’s name like a prayer. He hoped it conveyed all the love he would feel for this woman for as long as he lived.

He reached for her and gently pulled her into the circle of his arms. She came willingly and put her arms around his waist and her head on his chest as always. The physical embrace felt familiar, but the emotion from her side of the bond was empty. Vincent felt it was as though she was physically present, but she was emotionally absent.

“Tell me.” He bent his head down as he whispered into her ear and felt her shiver in response.

She lifted her head from his chest, pulled away from him, and offered him her hand. “If we don’t start out now, we’ll miss the beginning of the concert.” Her voice and emotions remained neutral as she dismissed his request.

He took the hint and began to lead her through the tunnels to their music chamber. The trek was made with an uncomfortable silence between them. His mind was sifting through all the facts available to him, and he could find nothing he had done to cause such a disconnection between them. He would have to wait until she was ready to divulge the reason for her current mood.

They reached the chamber, and he held her hand to support her as she lowered herself onto the pillows stacked against the wall. He noticed for the first time that she was dressed casually and not as she usually did in one of her beautiful dresses. She was also not wearing her crystal necklace. He was apprehensive as he contemplated the significance of these changes.

He settled onto the pillow beside her and invited her into his embrace. She relaxed against him with her arms crossed lightly over her chest. Her emotions were unreadable when he probed the bond. She closed her eyes as the music began drifting from Above. He let out a tension-filled sigh and tried to appreciate the orchestra’s efforts. He felt alone and adrift without the connection to her emotions that he relied on to light his world. She had withdrawn without warning when everything between them had been going well for so many years. Had she met someone new? Was this the beginning of their end?

He realized that she had fallen asleep somewhere around the start of the second selection. She was breathing softly when suddenly she became agitated, extremely warm and broke out into a sweat. Her face was beet red, and she awoke with a start. She pushed herself away from Vincent and abruptly stood up.

“Catherine, are you ill?” His voice was full of concern as he jumped to his feet. He tried to touch her forehead to check for fever, but she pushed him away.

She was still sweating with a very red face as she turned away from him. “It’s only a hot flash… menopause… it’s nothing.” She was oozing embarrassment and trying desperately to gather some dignity around her. The gentle notes of Beethoven’s Concerto for Violin and Orchestra in C Minor were still wafting around the chamber.

Vincent was confused. The process of menopause was something that middle-aged women in their mid-forties and fifties had to endure. Catherine was still young. He was shocked when he did the arithmetic. Where had the time gone? Neither of them was as young as when they had embarked on this journey together.

And then it hit him. Where had he taken her on their journey? What had become of their dream? She had loyally stayed in his presence and by doing so had denied herself the chance for children and accepted his denial to offer her a physical relationship. She came back to him after his mental breakdown even after he had sent her away. She had quit a job she loved to keep him safe. She was always there to offer support to his tunnel family. She had settled for the crumbs he tossed her way because she loved him. She loved him.

“It’s passed now. Let’s enjoy the rest of the concert.” She settled back onto the pillows and waited for him to follow.

“Catherine, we have to talk.” Vincent’s soft baritone floated to her ears as he settled down next to her.

“Actually, I don’t want to discuss it. I’d rather just appreciate the music and our time together if you don’t mind.” Her voice was tinged with the irritability that she did not intend to project.

“As you wish.” He reached out for her, and she shook her head.

“I’m too warm.” She leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes again.

He knew that her refusal to enter his embrace was not due to her temperature, but rather due to her need to distance herself from him. His heart was breaking.

Vincent never mentioned the anniversary as they walked quietly back to her threshold. She allowed a brief hug before she disappeared back into her world. They had not made any plans for their next meeting. He was devastated.

And Catherine was relieved.

* * *

After the concert as he got ready for bed in his chamber, Vincent reflected on his life with Catherine. He had sent her away three times. Once when she had the opportunity for a job in Providence, once when she was depressed after the Greig concert, and once after he had his mental breakdown and lost the bond. She had always returned to him and insisted that what they had was worth everything.

Everything… the word echoed in his mind. She had sacrificed everything as she told him she would when he brought her back from Paracelsus’ lair. She had given him everything he was willing to accept. She would have given him more, but his stubbornness and fear kept him from accepting all that she offered.

He knew that material things were not what she needed from him. The only thing she wanted was to share a complete life with him as a couple. Her purchase of the brownstone had paved the way for that life they could share together, but he had failed to fulfill her expectations. Was she now realizing what she had missed in life because she had loved him? How could he have let her down? He made the decision to speak with her tomorrow about moving towards love. He needed to give her everything.

* * *

By the time she reached the third-floor master bedroom of the brownstone, Catherine had solidified her decision. She opened the unused room and looked at the king-size bed that dominated the space and laughed contritely at herself. What a joke she had made of her life. Vincent was never going to share this bed, this room, this house, or this life with her the way she had planned and desired. He had insisted there would be no physical relationship through the years, and she had not listened with her mind. She had only listened with hope in her heart, and it had been wrong. Her life was half over, and she needed to make a change. She would not spend the second half with unrealistic expectations. It was finally time to give up these unrealistic hopes and grow up.

She went down to her second-floor bedroom and continued to pack for a trip away from the city and her life. Luz was fine with her need to get away for a while. She had discussed with Michael, who was a schoolteacher Above, that she would be gone for an undetermined amount of time. He could deal with any financial needs of the tunnel family from the funds she had set aside for them. All she needed to do was inform Vincent and Father of her trip. She finished packing and sat down to write the notes.

Early the next morning she took the time to walk to the nearest sentry location Below to leave the notes for Vincent and Father. She gave Geoffrey the instructions to hold the notes until late in the afternoon. She returned to the brownstone, packed the car, and headed out of the city towards Connecticut. This life assessment was something she should have done years ago. By the time Vincent read her note, she would be long gone.

* * *

Vincent got up early to get breakfast before he went to see Catherine. He reached out to her through the bond and felt the same vague disconnect he had experienced last evening. He decided to let her sleep in as he knew she liked to do on Saturdays before he would break into her day to discuss the major decision he had made. He hoped she would be as happy about it as he was. In fact, he was sure she would be delighted that he was finally ready for a full life together with her. It had only taken him a decade and a half to get there.

He sat with Father as they feasted on William’s offering of scrambled eggs, sausage, and toast. The older man was moving more slowly these days as arthritis was taking a stronger hold in his joints. But his mind was still as sharp as ever as he led the community in their quest for this simple life. He increasingly relied more on Vincent to assist in matters that required the more demanding aspects of the job.

“I will be unavailable today, Father. I’m going to speak with Catherine about how to move our relationship forward. It is time for us to be together.” He let his words soak into Father’s consciousness.

Father remained silent for a moment and looked his son in the eyes. “If you are expecting an argument from me, Vincent, you will be disappointed. I love Catherine like a daughter, and she has proven her love and loyalty to you and this community for years. I am happy that you finally have the confidence to seek what you have always deserved.”

Vincent was speechless. He tilted his head slightly and looked at Father with a shocked expression.

“Go to Catherine, Vincent. She has waited long enough to hear those words from you.” Father smiled as his son left the table to carry both sets of dishes to the kitchen.

* * *

Vincent calculated the time to be around nine am as he walked to Catherine’s. That should have given her enough time to shower and dress for her weekend day. He had rarely entered her home by himself over the years as he still was reluctant to intrude upon her personal space. He reached for the key she had given him and opened the tunnel access door into her basement. He reached out through the bond and was surprised that the feeling came back that she was not in the house. He could no longer pinpoint her location through the bond, but the emptiness of the dwelling seemed certain. He took the stairs up to the first floor and looked around.

“Catherine? It’s me. May we take some time to talk?” He raised his voice to a volume to reach the entire house. As he surmised, there was no response.

He traveled from room to room on each floor until he reached the master bedroom. The door was closed, so he knocked. When there was no answer, he opened the door to step inside. He was puzzled to observe a thick coating of dust on all the furniture and horizontal surfaces. This was obviously a room that had not been used in a long time. It was though it had been frozen in time since the day he had turned down her proposal to move in with her after he had let her back into his life after his mental breakdown recovery those long years ago.

Everything else in the house was clean and tidy and nothing was out of place. He decided to sit in the first-floor library and read until she returned from whatever errand she was running. The day evaporated slowly while he waited, worried and wondered what had taken her away from home on a weekend. He continued to reach out to her through the bond and was unable to grasp any sense of her.

When it finally became dark outside, he left the house and returned to the tunnels. He had missed the evening meal and went to the kitchen to look for some leftovers. He made himself a meatloaf sandwich that he carried to the study where Father was sitting.

Father looked up from the book he was reading and immediately looked down again. He took a deep breath and then met Vincent’s eyes as he spoke. “I received a note from Catherine today and one came for you as well.” He reached into his desk drawer to retrieve the envelope with Vincent’s name.

Vincent took the envelope and rose to leave the room, leaving the sandwich behind. He wanted to be alone when he read what the message said. He assumed that Father already knew the contents from what Catherine had sent to him.

My Dearest Vincent,

By the time you read this note, I will be gone from the city. I don’t know exactly when I will return. I suppose I am having the proverbial mid-life crisis. I need time away from my job responsibilities and our friendship to sort out what I need to change to look forward to the rest of my life. Perimenopause is playing havoc with my emotions. Ask Father about how women are affected if you don’t already know.

I look back on the time that we have known each other, and you were always honest with me about what type of relationship we could share. I chose to accept the imposed limitations, and it was always enough for me until recently when I stopped to evaluate my life. I am a still single, middle-aged woman living alone in a huge house that reminds me daily of my aloneness. I need to identify what alterations are needed to make my life more meaningful. And I need to find the courage to make those changes.

Do not despair or take up the mantle of guilt. You have nothing to regret or feel responsible for in this regard. I am responsible for my own happiness. We will always be the closest of friends. When I have made my decisions, I will return and implement the adjustments needed to ensure my happy future life.

Know that I will love you always,

Catherine

The tears were flowing freely down Vincent’s face as he reached the end of the note. His fears, stubbornness, and inaction had pushed Catherine away to seek an alternate route to a more meaningful life. He had forced her into the aloneness she identified in the note. The brownstone she had purchased to be a haven for him and a compromise between their two worlds had made him feel pressured to join their lives. He did not possess the courage to bind her life to his limited existence. He had not been ready at the time when she broached the subject, and he knew he had hurt her deeply. Yet, as always, she submitted to his will and continued to accept what little he offered her.

We must go with courage, and we must go with care. His words from long ago came back to haunt him. The operative word in that statement was “go.” It implied an action, moving forward, and taking risks, all of which he had been unwilling to do. Now he found himself in a panic because he had probably lost the most important person in his life. How many chances is someone given to make the right decision? He knew that the power to control their future narrative belonged to her. He reached out to her in the bond and felt nothing from her. He was as alone as she must have felt all those years.

He packed up his emotions, wiped his eyes and splashed his face with cold water before returning to the study to speak with Father. The old man was waiting for him with sympathy written all over his expressive face.

“Are you alright, son?” The concern in his voice was unmistakable.

He nodded and sighed as he sank into the chair next to the patriarch. “I finally understand what I have put her through too late to change the circumstances. What good is being an empath when I hurt the woman I love the most in this world? I always thought that there would be more time.”

“You aren’t the first person to make that mistake, nor will you be the last. The only thing you can do is wait for her to return and be prepared to deal with what happens next. All she wrote to me was that she would be gone for an indeterminate amount of time and that I was to go to Michael if the community needed any supplies. She also asked me to love and support you.” Father reached out to cover Vincent’s hand with his own.

* * *

Catherine stopped to shop for groceries before she left the city. She knew she could pick up anything she had forgotten from the small-town grocery near her father’s cottage.

As she drove into the country she thought about Vincent and hoped that he was not anguished about her abrupt departure. She never wanted to cause him any more pain than he had already suffered throughout his life. But she hoped he understood that she had a right to consider her own feelings in the matter of their relationship.

Their relationship – now that was something that she needed to define before she could move forward. From her perspective, she loved him deeply as a life partner. She had wanted and desired all that it entailed from the first time she realized that she loved him.

But Vincent had always been reserved and hesitant to let the natural progression of such a relationship move forward. She had purchased the brownstone after he recovered from his breakdown and let her back into his life. He had rejected her initially until the bond returned in what he described was in a muted form. He gave her an outright refusal for the possibility of them living together. She had acquiesced to his wishes until the last few months when she realized that she deserved everything. She deserved everything.

It was true that she had once told Vincent that he deserved everything. She had given him everything she could that he would accept. Yet, that had not been enough for him to understand that she also deserved everything. She had let her concern for him drive her away from her needs. This realization hit her like an avalanche. Well, it was not too late to choose a different and more fulfilling path for the rest of her life. She just needed to assess and focus to identify what that path would be.

She arrived at the cottage in a little under two hours and opened the driveway gate. The caretaker had been maintaining the outside grounds very well. The property looked as though it was occupied. She drove through the gate and then got out to close it behind the car.

As she pulled up to the cottage, she was hit with the memories of the times she had spent with her family during her childhood. Those thoughts filled her with contentment as she got out of the car and breathed the fresh air. This calm and serene setting was definitely what she needed to get her life in order.

She used her keys to open the front door and was greeted by the cleanliness and order that the caretaker was paid to maintain. Everything was ready for her stay. She carried in the groceries and stowed them in the pantry and refrigerator. Next, she carried her suitcases and unpacked them in the first-floor bedroom that had always been hers. She felt a peacefulness that had eluded her for the past few years.

It was getting to be lunch time, but as usual, she was not hungry. Preparing food, eating, and cleaning up afterwards always seemed like such a waste of effort. Instead, she decided to go out onto the porch and just watch the sunshine reflect on the lake. She fell asleep on the cushioned porch swing and awoke around sunset when the night critters began their songs. She stretched and went inside to do something about dinner.

She slept soundly after retiring, only waking up with night sweats twice during the night. That was an improvement over the every two-hour bouts of hot flashes that had plagued her in the brownstone. She went into the kitchen to make coffee and toast for breakfast. She decided that today she would use her analytical skills to evaluate what was and wasn’t working in her life and try to determine solutions for those elements she deemed as negative.

She got out her laptop computer and opened the spreadsheet program to capture her thoughts. She spent the next eight hours detailing everything about her life in the pros and cons columns. The column of what was working was longer than what was not working, but there was a common denominator for those things that were inoperable in her life – Vincent. 

She had instinctively known that their relationship was the root cause of her dissatisfaction with life, but to see it spelled out in black and white cemented this concept in her brain as well as in her heart. She needed to either accept her fate gratefully as she had originally declared to him, or she needed to make difficult changes to move forward in a new direction. It might require leaving Vincent behind. She was afraid of both paths, and her tears began to fall.

She had forgotten to control her block on the bond.

* * *

Vincent had become very subdued since Catherine’s departure. He was quietly teaching the younger students how to read when the bond hit him with a despair so deep that he paused his speaking mid-sentence. It was overwhelming in its intensity, and he knew it could only be coming from Catherine. Before he cried, he caught himself and told the students that class was dismissed for the day.

He hurried to his chamber and dropped the curtain over the doorway, requesting privacy from the tunnel residents. He flung himself onto the middle of his bed and stared up at the rock ceiling as the hot tears flowed silently and freely into his ears. He had caused Catherine this great despair that was drowning her as she evaluated her life. He had never wanted to deprive her of the life she should lead by tying her to his world.

Yet, he had inadvertently tied her to his platonic love that did not meet her physical needs, and she was just now realizing its cost to her happiness. He knew in his heart that she would have no choice other than to leave him behind and pursue someone else who would give her the passion she desired. His life would be over when she made that choice.

* * *

Over the course of the next three weeks, Catherine prepared her case for her new life in the same fashion she had used as a prosecuting attorney. Her notes were meticulously detailed as she outlined her options. The emotions engendered during this process were denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and finally acceptance. She had stopped stifling her emotions from the bond and knew that Vincent could pick up on everything if he was paying attention.

She continued to suffer through hormone swings throughout this process, yet felt she had reached the best conclusion to alleviate her discontentment with the current course of her life. She would inform Vincent of this life-changing decision when she returned to the city. She knew it would be difficult for him to assimilate, but she no longer cared to tiptoe around his feelings. She knew him well enough to believe that he would find the courage to survive and think of their friendship in a new light.

* * *

During this time, Vincent felt Catherine’s emotional shifts as though they were his own. He recognized the sequence of her feelings as the steps of mourning. He was shocked as this could only mean one thing. Catherine was leaving him. He shut down the bond and retreated to the nameless river to gain some control so he could bravely face her when she returned to announce her decision. He owed her that much for all that he had denied her. He would support her decision because he loved her.

* * *

The brownstone atmosphere was stale and empty as Catherine carried in her suitcases. She decided to call a housekeeping service to thoroughly clean the entire dwelling, including the long-abandoned master bedroom and bathroom. After all, if she was going to sell the place, it needed to show well for prospective buyers.

After unpacking her suitcases, she wandered into the kitchen and focused on the magnet with its message before she opened the freezer compartment for a frozen dinner. The first time for the thing she was about to spring on Vincent was something she had never envisioned in all the time they had been together. She almost felt sorry for him, but then again, why should she? She had patiently waited for him for fifteen years and she was done with waiting. It was time to cook or get out of the kitchen. Ironic, she thought with a smile as she punched in six minutes on the microwave oven.

She waited a full week after the housekeepers had finished cleaning before she sent a note Below inviting Vincent to come to the brownstone for a talk. She was miffed that he took four days before she received his reply. She used the time to perfect her opening arguments for the case she was going to present to him.

Vincent’s response was delivered to her front door by Benny.

Dear Catherine,

I am sorry for my delayed response. I will be happy to meet you at 8 pm tomorrow evening if that time is agreeable. If not, please propose another time and send it with Benny so we can meet on your schedule.

Love,

V

“Tell him tomorrow at eight is fine, Benny. Thank you for being the messenger.” Catherine smiled at him and slipped him a twenty-dollar bill. She closed the door and went into the library.

The short, formal sounding message gave her no insight into what he was thinking. Either he had withdrawn, or he was purposely slighting her by providing her no information as to how her departure had affected him. Maybe it had not affected him at all. She needed to focus her energy on the task at hand. Then a hot flash with the familiar feeling of needles pricking her scalp sent her over the edge and into sobs of crying. Great she thought as she recovered. I need to get it together by tomorrow tonight because this is for the rest of my life.

* * *

The despair that washed over her hit Vincent while he was walking towards Father’s study. He leaned against the wall of the tunnel and put his left hand to his chest, breathing heavily. It took a full five minutes before he could regain his composure, but thankfully no one in the tunnels passed him during this time. He pushed off the wall and continued walking to the study.

“Father, do you have a minute for me?” He asked as he came down the steps into the study.

The patriarch looked up from the book he was reading and looked into his son’s wary eyes. “Tell me.”

“Catherine has come to a decision, and I fear she will be leaving me behind. I have felt despair and deep sadness from her through the bond. I don’t know how I will face this when she tells me tomorrow evening when we meet.” His voice was full of pain.

“Vincent, if this is not the course you want for your life and if you want to keep Catherine in your life, then don’t accept it as your fate. You are a great strategist when you play chess. Some of your bold opening moves let me know that I am in trouble from the start. Use your ability to strategize, then envision and plan a different outcome for your life with Catherine.” The old man’s eyes were pleading with his son. “You can mold a different course of action from what you perceive she is planning if you have the confidence to do what your heart desires.”

Vincent sighed. “I hope that you are correct, Father. I want to spend the rest of my life with her and give her everything she deserves in a relationship. I want us to live our dream together.” He got up and went to his chamber to think about how to approach his upcoming meeting with Catherine.

* * *

The following afternoon Catherine carefully planned her wardrobe for this meeting of a lifetime. She chose one of her prosecuting attorney power suits in navy blue with a white blouse. She would wear the three-inch high heels that made her feel more formidable. She needed to project confidence during her discussion with Vincent to ensure that he understood why she was proposing to do what she had decided. She wanted to make sure that he fully understood her motivation for the changes she was planning to make.

She reviewed her notes carefully and prepared her words as if she were making an opening statement to a jury. This would be her only chance to prepare him for the two alternate plans she was proposing. She nervously watched the clock tick slowly towards the hour of reckoning. She looked forward to tomorrow when this monumental task would be over.

* * *

Vincent opted to dress in casual clothing so as not to assign any more importance to this meeting than was necessary. He wore patched jeans, a light blue sweater, and a tan denim vest. He brushed his hair until it was almost smooth. He placed the pouch containing the rose around his neck and grabbed his cloak and the key to her basement as he headed out of his chamber.

By the time he reached her threshold, the persistent wave in his hair had asserted its dominance in his golden tresses, giving him the wild look that was most often associated with him. He took a deep breath and knocked on the basement door. There was no answer, so he used his key to open it.

As he stepped inside, he called up the stairs to announce his arrival.

“I’m in the kitchen, Vincent. Please come up.” Her voice reached his ears as he proceeded into her abode.

She was just taking a boiling kettle of water to fill a teapot sitting on a tray with two cups. “If you’ll take that into the library, we can settle there for our meeting.” Catherine was all business.

He removed his cloak and draped it over a kitchen chair. He carried the tray into the library and set it on the table. He noticed she wore her attorney suit like a coat of armor. The added height of her high heeled shoes was deliberate to give her a feeling of power. She was prepared to do battle, and his heart sank for a moment. He had to make a bold first move before she had a chance to deliver a blow that could crush his heart.

She was standing in front of the desk facing him, and he walked toward her. She was expecting the brotherly hug he always offered. Instead, he gently held her face with both hands, tipped her head slightly to the left and bent his head towards hers. His kiss was a softly sensuous touch through which he sent her all the love in his heart.

As his lips moved gently against hers, careful not to injure her with his fangs with too much pressure, she was lost in the velvet feel of his upper lip and the warm soft touch of his full bottom lip. She could not believe that this was happening after all these years. She was completely stunned.

He pulled back and moved his hands to the outside of her shoulders to steady her as she regained her balance. Her eyes were still closed and she was breathing hard.

“Welcome home, Catherine. I have missed you.” The gentle voice caressed her name.

He walked over to the far side of the sofa and settled into it deeply, slinging his arm over the back and resting his other elbow on the sofa arm. He stretched his long legs out in from of him and crossed one ankle over the other. He carefully controlled his expression to hide the mixture of fear, desire, and nervousness he felt. He hoped she couldn’t hear the pounding of his heart.

She opened her eyes and stared at him. “What was that?”

“It was our first proper kiss, Catherine. There is a first time for everything.” He tried to sound nonchalant.

“Why now?” She had been knocked off kilter and it reflected in her voice.

“Why not now? I love you.” He countered in a reasonable tone as he made a slight tilt of his head. He made the effort to appear totally relaxed and confident of his right to kiss her.

“Well, it was totally unexpected, and I have an important decision about us to discuss with you.” She was trying to regain the composure she had lost to prepare for her arguments.

“Tell me.” The familiar words were offered in a soft whisper.

She took a deep breath and began. “Our relationship has never moved forward since I stayed Below when my father died. I kept hoping that we were going to go with courage and care, but it never happened. We are getting older, and I am tired of waiting. I need more, Vincent. I want a real future with you.” Her words tumbled out and were not at all the eloquent ones she had calmly practiced. Lost were the two alternatives she had planned to discuss. This was going to be a disaster.

“Yes.” He agreed in his deep baritone. His blue eyes were fixed on hers.

“Yes? To what? To the facts I have stated? To the future? What does yes mean?” She was starting to sound hysterical to herself. She tried to focus on maintaining control of this pivotal meeting that was getting away from her like a speeding train headed for a collapsed bridge.

He stood and moved in front of her. He dropped to his knees, took both of her hands in his, and looked up into her eyes. “Catherine, I let time get away from us and I cannot give you back those lost years. I apologize for my doubts that kept me from moving towards love. We cannot change the past, but we can create a different future together. I want you to be my wife. We can live Below, here, or in both places. Will you marry me?”

This was not what she had envisioned for this encounter, and she couldn’t believe that she heard his words correctly. She needed to hear them again. “What did you just ask me?” Her voice was shaky.

“I asked you to marry me. I love you and I want us to spend the rest of our lives living as a couple, truly together.”

“No.” Her voice was soft.

Her answer had a finality to it that shook him like the wind rustled leaves on a quaking aspen. Of all the scenarios he had prepared for, this was not one of them. He immediately dropped her hands and rocked back on his heels as if she had shot him in the chest. Every instinct he had honed for years called for him to retreat to the darkness of the tunnels. He fought against it and reached out to read her emotions. She was softly sobbing as she stood in front of him looking lost and forlorn. She was as devastated as he was.

He slowly stood up and gently enfolded her in his arms. She grasped the soft folds of his vest as she pressed her face into the fabric and let her tears flow. He scooped her up in his arms and moved to the sofa where he settled her on his lap. It reminded him of the time he had held her after her father died, only this time he let his tears mingle with hers.

“Just cry.” The more pronounced gravel in his whispered words reflected his emotional state.

She continued to softly sob until no more emotion was left. She finally stopped and sniffled. He passed her his handkerchief. She then laid her head against his chest, kicked off her shoes, and sighed.

“I’m sorry, Vincent. I wasn’t expecting that. I,-.” Her eyes suddenly filled with tears again.

He continued to hold her and offer her comfort through the bond. If he could do nothing else, he would give her everything she wanted to bring her happiness again. He was responsible for the misery she was feeling. He had offered her too little, too late. There was time enough in the future to face self-recrimination.

She finally pushed up from his lap and moved to lean her hips on the edge of the desk with her arms braced behind her. She shook her head as if to clear it. She was unable to look him in the eyes, so she focused on a point above and behind him.

“Vincent, you only asked me to marry you now because I forced you into it. Until tonight you had never even kissed me. I fear that this isn’t what you want. You are only afraid of losing me. I told you that I will love you forever and I meant it. You don’t have to marry me to keep me in your life. You are free to continue as you have for the last fifteen years. I will work on my own happiness.” Her confidence was returning after her melt-down.

“Catherine.” His voice was like a prayer when he spoke her name. “I had decided that we needed to move toward love after the concert. I came to see you the following morning to discuss it, but you had already left. I spent the day here waiting for you and only got your note when I returned to the tunnels in the evening. I had no way to reach out to you while you were gone.”

He paused and looked away a moment to give himself the chance to choose the exact right words to express why he had finally decided to move toward love. He took a deep breath and faced her again.

“I’ve spent much time thinking of our future… together. I do want to marry you. This is not something you forced on me. It is something that I greatly desire. I am no longer afraid of the fact that we are something that has never been. We are something that should be… together… now and forever.” He stayed seated and very still while he awaited her reaction. He didn’t want to shake her more than he already had. He waited quietly while she processed his words.

The silence stretched out between them. The only sound was the constant heartbeat of the grandfather clock in the corner of the room as it dutifully measured the minutes.

Finally, she spoke. “I would love to marry you, Vincent, but you must be certain that this is what you really want. I am too old to be the blushing bride. I would be happy if we only found a way for us to just live together as lovers. My commitment to you needs no formality.”

He rose, walked over to her, and opened his arms. She moved into his embrace and was not surprised this time when he bent his head to kiss her again. This kiss was longer and even more sensual than the first one and she was lost in her love for this man. Finally their journey was underway, moving towards love.

She leaned back to gaze into his eyes. “Are you still afraid of what will happen when we make love, Vincent?”

“No, Catherine. It has always been meant to be. There’s a first time for everything.” His voice, though emotional, was assured. He sent up a prayer of thanks that he had been able to overcome his doubts before they had cost him the most precious gift in his life.