They pretended not to notice the guttering candles. They purposely disregarded the empty teapot. They tried to ignore the chiming of the antique mantel clock. But at its twelfth ping, Catherine rose from the comfortably over-stuffed cushions of the chair Vincent had recently added to his chamber and placed her empty mug on his desk. She sighed softly as she slipped on her suede jacket. “I wish I didn’t have to go, but there’s an early meeting at work and I need to get some rest, or I’ll fall asleep during Moreno’s presentation.”

Vincent tried to return her smile of regret. He didn’t entirely succeed, and he was well aware he’d been even less successful in shielding her from the turmoil stirring within him throughout their shared hours of poetry and quiet conversation. She knew him so well, had sensed there was something he had struggled to say; but because she respected his privacy, she had waited for him to share his concerns with her in his own way, at his own time.

But he hadn’t been able to find the words or the courage. He’d taken a measure of dishonorable comfort in knowing she would not force him, and that admittance shamed him. He was disgusted with himself for giving in to fear, and even more so for withholding the truth from her, something they had sworn they would never do.

He had to tell her. Too much time had already passed, and he could not keep pretending the incident had never occurred. Catherine knew who he was; she loved him, believed in him, pledged she would never leave him. To keep such a thing from her was to question her trust and faith, even the depth of her love, and that was something he could not do.

But, he agonized for the hundredth time, what if I’m wrong? I know so little of these things. Could this be what shatters her belief in me, makes her leave me…makes her stop loving me?

There would be no life for him without her love, but there could be no love without truth.

She was waiting for him to walk with her to the threshold, to enjoy their last precious minutes together. He rose slowly from his ornate wooden chair but did not go to her.

“Catherine, please don’t leave. I know it’s late, but there’s something I need to tell you.” His voice shuddered, but he would not continue surrendering to fear. “Something more about Lena.”

He watched shadows flicker across her face. She shrugged off her jacket and settled herself on the patchwork layers of soft, worn quilts and blankets at the end of his bed. She looked up at him, then patted the space next to her. “Tell me what has been troubling you all night.”

The muscles in his thighs twitched, and his heart raced with the need to bolt from her — from the image of her on his bed, from the knowledge of what he must tell her, from the belief he might never see her again.

But he would not run, not this time. He took a single step toward the bed, then pivoted and dropped heavily onto his chair, gripping its arms so tightly his nails scratched shallow grooves into its arms. He gazed at the beloved beauty of her face, and all the words he’d planned to say congealed in his throat.

“Vincent, what’s wrong? You said everything was going so well for Lena. Is she in some kind of trouble? What can I do to help her?”

Her words, her heartfelt concern for the lost, damaged girl whose life they’d helped save, warmed and shattered him. He took a deep breath and let it out in a raspy sigh.

“Lena is fine. She’s safe and her new life has begun again…but there is something more. Something I should have told you sooner, but I did not know how.”

She nodded. “And now you do?”

“Yes, but what I must say will change everything.” He forced himself not to avert his face from her. “My words could destroy everything we’ve shared…and make you turn away from me forever.”

She shook her head. “Those words don’t exist, Vincent. You know that.”

“I think they do.”

Time ticked by like the silent beating of a broken heart. He had to finish what he’d begun. There was no choice.

“Catherine, do you remember when I told you of the reason Lena ran away…that it was because she loved me?”

Her voice was guarded. “I remember.”

He winced at the foolishness of his question. Of course, she could not have forgotten what he’d told her that night on her balcony, just as he could not forget the flare of anger and jealousy she’d worked so hard to smother. He had sensed all of it through their bond, and its intensity had stunned him. He’d wanted to assure her immediately there would never be a need for her to feel threatened in that way. That he would never love another, only her, always her.

But he’d been silenced, not only by the soothing warmth of the compassion she’d felt at his painful disclosure, but by something more, a darkly disturbing arousal of pride and pleasure surging within him. To realize she cared so much for him that another woman’s overtures of affection would anger her so was baffling, it was unbelievable…and it was stirring and delicious and real.

But now, as he finally forced himself to reveal the things he’d kept hidden, only anger would surge from her, and this time it would be directed at him. It would feed on her confusion and pain, and it would burn and blaze and destroy everything.

He was lost on a path he’d never dreamed of taking, and he hesitated, uncertain and unsure.  He should have told her everything that night, no matter how difficult it would have been for both of them. He had confessed it all to Father, so why couldn’t he tell her? He shook his head at the inanity of his own desperate question. It was one thing to reveal to his father a momentary pull of attraction for another woman; it was something entirely different to confess it to his soulmate.

But there was no choice. He took a deep breath. “Catherine, I did not explain how I knew of Lena’s feelings for me. And how I responded to them.”

Her eyes widened but she waited in silence.

“Once, when we were talking, Lena said something that made me think of Lord Byron. Like him, she was a lost and lonely soul, so I gave her a book of his poetry. I wanted her to realize she is not the only one who knows what it feels like to be an outcast in the world, searching for something that eludes her.”

Catherine’s eyes misted with tears. “I think she already knew she was not the only one.”

He nodded, grateful for her insight and understanding. “We spoke of aloneness, how we both have felt the pain it can bring, the longing to be part of something we have never known. How we’ve had to keep secrets, and how we’ve been ashamed of who we are. We understood one another almost immediately.”

“And that connection led her to imagine, to hope…”

“There could be something more between us. When she came to my chamber to return the book, she told me how she cherished everything we’d become to one another, that she hoped I would accept her love.” He looked away into the shadowy depths of his chamber, as if searching for something only he could see.

“Vincent, you don’t have to tell me anything more. What the two of you shared is something very personal and private. Please don’t feel you have to go on.”

His head snapped back toward her. “I must tell you! I must explain. I told Lena what she wished for could never be because my heart is bound forever to yours, that I love you with all that I am, with all that I could ever become.”

He was nearly overwhelmed with the rush of relief and joy he felt through their bond. He wished he could float within it, even happily drown in it. But he had not yet spoken the words he most dreaded, the words capable of destroying everything.

Her soft lips quivered in a luminous smile, and he spoke quickly before her expression of love and trust could only make a horrendous moment even more devastating.

“Catherine, our love is the most precious truth of my life. I could never love another, but when Lena told me what she wished for, that she wished for us to…be together…I felt a pull toward her. It was for only a moment, but I wondered…I wondered what it would be like to be her…possibility.”

He bowed his head, waiting to hear the sound of Catherine’s footsteps rushing from his chamber.

Instead, he felt a gentle hand beneath his chin raising his head toward her. “Oh, Vincent, you have nothing to feel guilty about. It’s all right. I understand –”

Her hand fell back into her lap as he surged to his feet. “No, Catherine! It is not all right!” He stared down at her, his face a mask of pain and remorse. “I betrayed our love – I betrayed you!”

When she smiled up at him, he found it difficult to believe what he was seeing. Her face was a portrait of compassion, without a hint of anger or reproach. She reached for his hands and pulled him downward, releasing him only when he was seated across from her again.

“You didn’t betray me.” She pressed her fingers to his lips for a heartbeat, stilling the protest he was about to make. “All you did was respond for a moment when a beautiful young woman told you she had feelings for you, that she hoped for a relationship with you. It was only natural for you to be intrigued, to wonder. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

He shook his head. “You are my life, Catherine. I should not have felt anything more than friendship for Lena!”

“Oh, Vincent, you’re being much too hard on yourself. What happened to you, happens to everyone.”

He wanted desperately to allow himself to be soothed by the empathy in her smile and her words. “Everyone?”

“Yes! It’s happened to me many times, and sometimes I’ve found it very flattering when men think I’m attractive.” She blushed a bit as she rolled her eyes. “That sounds like I have a very high opinion of myself, doesn’t it?”

“You are a beautiful, compassionate woman. Of course, men will be drawn to you. How could they not be?”

She laughed and shook her head. “I think you overestimate my appeal.” Her voice grew serious. “If some other man expresses an interest in me, I might be a bit curious but only for a moment. It doesn’t mean anything. I don’t encourage him or return his feelings. Nothing is going to happen. I have no interest in any man except you.”

This was all part of a world which, until now, had always excluded him, but Catherine knew it well. And she would never lie to him. As his understanding grew, so did a sense of incredulous relief. “Then what happened with Lena was…was normal? It does not upset you?”

She looked at him carefully. “It doesn’t make me happy, but I understand it. She has real feelings for you. It’s completely natural for you to wonder what might –”

“But I don’t love Lena! I never could!”

“I know you don’t love her. But don’t forget, she can’t help the way she feels about you. I would have been more surprised if she hadn’t fallen in love with you. It was very brave of her to reach out, to let you know how she feels even while risking rejection.”

He nodded, then his eyes widened as Catherine continued. “I think you know I felt angry and jealous when you first told me of her love for you. But that doesn’t threaten what we have…and I must confess I can’t help envying Lena for the time she can spend with you, for the way she is part of your life, your world, in ways I can’t be.”

Words floated in the silence, unvoiced but echoing through their bond.  Not now but someday…

Catherine sighed softly. “Vincent, I’m glad you told me about all this. We need to be honest with one another. It will only make us stronger.”

But he hadn’t told her all of it, and that truth seared him. Her words had begun to heal his heart, but he didn’t deserve her compassion, her trust. He had to ask; he had to know. “Then, what I did, what I felt, it will not make you turn away from me?”

“Not for a second! You can’t get rid of me that easily!” The honey-colored strands of her hair glistened in the candlelight as she shook her head and smiled at him. “Not unless there’s something else you haven’t told me.”

He knew she’d meant her remark to be humorous and light. Instead, it began to suffocate him. He felt his face constrict and his heart race in unchecked fear. This wasn’t over.

Her eyes narrowed, and her voice was low and full of sounds he didn’t want to hear. “Is there something else?”

“Yes,” he whispered. “Yes.”

It had been difficult enough to tell her how he’d felt when Lena first expressed her love for him. How could he confess the feelings he’d experienced when she had offered him her body?

He could not, yet if he didn’t, the unspoken words would create an irreparable rift, full of mistrust and disillusionment. He took a deep breath and searched their bond for courage, only to find something strange and sharp stabbing at the steely strength of her faith in him.

“Vincent, just tell me what else happened. We’ll find a way through it. I know we will.”

There was nothing left to do, nowhere to turn, nowhere to hide.

There was a trembling in the low rasp of his voice. “On the night Lena left our world, she came to my chamber. I was asleep, but I sensed the presence of another, and when I opened my eyes, I saw her. She came closer and sat on my bed. She said she couldn’t sleep…She reached for my hand and told me…she told me not to be afraid… Then she smiled and I knew what she wanted of me.”

Catherine’s quick intake of breath knifed through him.

“That day when I’d told her of my love for you, I thought she understood that nothing, no one, will ever come between us. And yet she continued to hope that I – that we –”

Catherine’s voice was a whisper of pain. “That you would become lovers.”

He closed his eyes for a moment. “And I would share my life with her. I would become everything she had been searching for. She pleaded with me not to send her away.”

He forced himself to look into Catherine’s eyes. “I hurt her. I took away her hope, and I made her feel all the shame and sorrow she thought she’d left behind.”

“And that’s the real reason Lena ran away, because –”

His guilt and anguish overrode her words. “Because in the end, her love for me only brought her pain. We had shared much in a very brief time. I held her newborn child in my arms. I watched her start to become her true self, a woman full of warmth and hope, not the damaged, frightened girl she had been. There was a connection between us. But I could not give Lena what she wanted, what she needed.”

Through their bond, he felt the ominous onslaught of emotions Catherine did not try to suppress. “Did you wish you could?”

“Yes,” he whispered. “But it was just for a moment.”

Her low, controlled voice was that of a stranger and the sound of it terrified him. “I need to be sure I understand what you’re saying, Vincent. When Lena wanted to give herself to you, you turned her away. But you really didn’t want to reject her. You wanted to accept everything she offered – her love, her body, a place by your side in your world, a life where you and she and the baby could be a family.”  Her voice was harsh with unshed tears. “She was ready to give you everything – and you wanted to take it, as if it were the only chance you’d ever have!”

“No, Catherine! I never meant – I never wanted that!” He longed to reach for her, but he knew he could not bear it if she recoiled from him, as she surely would.

“No? That’s not what you just said.” Her voice had become dangerously calm. “So, tell me, what do you want? You at least owe me that.”

He looked deep into her eyes. “I want the things Lena promised. But I do not want to share them with her. I turned her away, even though I longed to say yes to everything she dreamed of, everything she offered…Those dreams have been my dreams, too, but not with her.” He took a deep breath. “When Lena said those words to me, I wished…I wished it had been you.”

His words seemed to reverberate in the candlelit air. She stared at him, as immobile as an ivory statue, frozen and unreachable. Then in slow, suffocating silence, her face contorted into images unreadable. Tears cascaded from her glittering eyes; she opened her mouth to speak, then collapsed forward, burying her face in her hands.

He watched helplessly as her shoulders shuddered, and sounds he’d never heard from her roiled all around them. Her reaction was beyond even his worst nightmares. Deep within his heart, he’d known that should he ever be able to speak to her of his desires, she would at the very least be kind and gentle in her response. From time to time, he had even dared hope she might welcome and accept them, remembering, cherishing the times she’d snuggled into his embrace, unwilling to end their closeness; when she had gently stroked his face, his hair, her touch lingering and inviting; the precious moments when she’d nearly breathed a kiss upon his eager mouth. Hadn’t all that meant that maybe, just maybe, she desired him, too?

But if it had, then right now he would be looking into a face full of love, not holding a body full of pain. He had agonized over so many outcomes of his confession, but this outpouring of what surely was anger, disgust, and grief was beyond even his bleakest imaginings. Stunned by what he saw, he reached for their bond, but found only impenetrable darkness.

He could not let his beloved continue to suffer; he had to try to offer comfort, even if it meant she might shudder with repulsion at his touch. He reached for her, gathering her in his arms, cradling her on his lap. To his great relief, she pressed her face against his chest as the terrible sounds began to subside. He felt her lingering tears soak into his soul, as he stroked her hair, trailing the silky strands through his shaking fingers.

“Don’t cry, Catherine, please don’t cry,” he whispered as if he were praying. “I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you.”

How wrong he’d been to confess he wished it had been she who had come to his bed, who had told him of her desire to love him in ways he’d only dreamed of, to give him everything. It had been difficult enough to admit he had those impulses at all. It was insanity to hope, to dream, to believe she might share his desires.

This time, there was no turning back, and he was certain that in mere moments she would break away from his embrace; she would reject him and his unacceptable feelings for her. He knew he should let her go, to spare her any further pain his love for her would bring.  Yet against all rational thought, he hoped somehow she would sense his remorse, she would listen to his abject words of apology, she would be willing to try to salvage what might be left of their dream.

He had to try one last time. “I’m so sorry, Catherine. Please let me explain.”

Seconds dragged by like hours until she slowly began to stir, raising her head and leaning back in his arms. Deeply grateful that by some miracle she had not yet bolted from his embrace, he knew he had to do something, say something. “Catherine, there are things I need to tell you, things you need to know.” Confused by the enigmatic expression on her face, he murmured, “But are you…are you all right?”

She took the frayed handkerchief he offered and dried away the lingering traces of her tears. Gently but firmly, she pulled away from him, and collapsed onto the cushions of her chair, taking deep, cleansing breaths. “Am I all right?” She shook her head. “No, I’m not. Your news came as quite a shock, Vincent, but I’m sure my reaction made that quite clear. Even so, I think I owe you an explanation for my behavior.”

“No, Catherine, you owe me nothing! I must apologize for upsetting you so. I never meant for that to happen. I never should have told you of these things. Do you think…do you think you can ever forgive me…for what I did…for how I feel?”

He could not resist hoping he might hear loving words of reassurance, proof his terrible confession had not completely destroyed everything. For a few moments he let himself believe there was a chance they would emerge at least somewhat intact on the other side of the storm.

When her only response to his plea was silence, he struggled to keep his voice from trembling. “Catherine, I would give anything to change what has happened.”

He held his breath, waiting for even the slightest hint that she was willing to forgive him, for the words that would give him back his life. It’s still possible, he told himself, trying to salvage hope from chaos. I’ll do anything to make it so.

He could not bear to risk reaching for her through the bond again, nor could he withstand the torment of her continued silence. “Catherine, please talk to me. Tell me what I can do. Tell me what you’re thinking.”

She sat up straighter and looked directly at him. “I don’t know if I can tell you what I’m thinking, not yet. But I’m sure we both can agree it has been a rather eventful night. And we need to talk.” She paused, clearly waiting for him to indicate that he did, in fact, agree.

It was a beginning. At his quick nod, she continued, “It would be nice to put this all behind us.” She paused again, and he felt his heart surge with hope. “But I feel it’s important we review some of the most pertinent events, just to be certain there are no further misunderstandings. Are you comfortable in doing that?”

He was as far from being comfortable as anyone could possibly be. Only minutes earlier, Catherine had been convulsed in devastating tears. Now she seemed so calm and dispassionate, almost as if she were in a courtroom presenting a case, instead of in an underground chamber facing one of the most crucial events in their relationship. This was an aspect of his beloved he had never witnessed, one which he was finding quite unsettling.

His heart shuddered. What had he done to her? How could he ever make it right?

“Vincent, are you comfortable with what I just asked?” The deadly calm of her voice snapped him back to reluctant attention.

He nodded again, far more cautiously than before, feeling as if his entire world were about to be upended and reshaped into something he would not recognize.

She tapped a finger against her lips. “Then, let’s look at the facts as presented. First of all, I think we are in agreement that when a certain woman, let’s refer to her as L, stated her desires to you, specifically when she told you she wanted to climb into your bed and make love to you, you wished you could accept her offer?”

He winced to hear her express such sensitive, intimate topics in this way, but evidently Catherine was not about to waste time prowling around the outskirts of the evening’s revelations. Deeply grateful for any progress at all, he quickly opted to follow her lead.

“Yes. No! I wanted to accept the offer but not from her!  When I said I wished, I wanted to, I meant it but not like that. Not her.” He paused for breath, his typical eloquence and restraint having escaped him, but when he saw her eyes just barely begin to sparkle, he didn’t care at all that any amusement she was feeling was at his expense.

“I see. And, to the best of your knowledge and understanding, has an offer such as the one issued by L, either implied or explicitly expressed, been made to you by any other woman as yet unnamed, or was this the first time?”

There was no point in evading what they both knew was the truth. “No, it wasn’t the first time.”

She nodded, as if considering his response. “Just to set the record straight, have all such other instances involved numerous women, and if so, to the best of your recollection, how many?”

A dawning suspicion prickled him. “Only one woman. She is my heart.”

“Interesting…so, when such an offer, implied or explicitly stated, was made to you by this aforementioned, as yet unidentified by name, singular woman who, as you have stated, is your heart, would you say you’ve had the same reaction as you did when L offered a similar experience? That is, did you wish more than anything you could accept said offer when made by the one woman who is your heart?”

He rumbled his immediate reply. “I did.”

As befuddling as this interlude had been at first, he now understood without a doubt where it was heading. And amid all his tumultuous emotions, not the least of which were burgeoning hope and relief and soul-deep gratitude, he felt very happy he’d never have to face Catherine as the opposing counsel in a court of law.

“Just one more clarification is needed about the offer in question. Was it extended to you only once?”

He couldn’t quite force back the hint of a smile. “No, it has been extended to me many, many times. Mostly implicitly…but in varying degrees.”

Catherine pressed her lips tightly together, but she couldn’t hide the gleam in her eyes as she appeared to ponder this information. He felt a delicious shiver as he anticipated what might come next.

“And yet, despite the frequency of being given an opportunity to avail yourself of said offer, and your expressed desire to do so, you refused it on each and every occasion. Why do you think that’s so, Vincent?” She tilted her head at him, mimicking his familiar gesture, one he knew she loved.

“I think, no, I know it was because the offer was, as you said, implied. Evidently, I needed it to be far more explicitly expressed.”

He couldn’t believe he’d just said that. But he definitely could believe he wasn’t imagining the wide-eyed, incredulous stare shooting his way.

“Then, would I be correct in assuming that if such an offer had been made to you in the form of a direct question from said woman of your heart, your response would have been different than it had been when only implicitly issued by her? You would have agreed readily to the woman’s explicit request?”

Hoping he hadn’t somehow completely misread her intention, he replied with more confidence than he felt. “”Yes, I believe I would have – well, I would have wanted to – I did want to – I mean, I do want to –”

She nodded. “Thank you. I’m certain I have all the information I need.” She leaned back and folded her hands in her lap. “So, to review and place our evidence in its proper perspective, all those many times over the past two and a half years, when you almost kissed me, when you ended our embrace before we found it impossible to force ourselves to part, when you threw away every possibility for physical intimacy even though you knew how much I wanted it – and how much you wanted it, too — all I had to do was ask?!”

He felt a ridiculously happy smile curve his lips. He shrugged his shoulders and tilted his head toward her. “Perhaps…”

Her grin returned, full of happy expectation. “And if right here, right now, I – explicitly — ask you to let me love you, if I ask you to finally show how much you love me, what would your answer be?”

He hesitated, lusty desire warring with lifelong denial. “My answer would be – I’d say — ” Suddenly it all seemed to be happening too fast, but this time he could not – would not – let this miraculous chance disappear. “I’d tell you –”

Hoping it was true actions spoke louder than words, especially when the right words had completely escaped him, he surged to his feet. He intended to pull her into a never-ending embrace, but no matter how much he wanted to, he found he still couldn’t take the next step.

Then, he discovered he didn’t have to.

She rocketed out of her chair, flung herself into his arms, and gazed up at him. “Not good enough, Vincent. I need more than that. One word! Is your answer yes or no?”

With great reluctance but even greater urgency, he disentangled himself from their embrace, then strode toward the chamber entrance. In seconds, an unlit lantern was placed outside the doorway and a heavy tapestry was lowered to seal the opening.

In a heartbeat, they were back in each other’s arms, and then he added not one but two final words to his confession.

“It’s yes.”