Untold Sorrow

No Coming Back

Jennifer P.O.V.

I was speechless. For a moment I wasn't sure I heard him right. it was not at all what I had expected him to say.

'A child?' I repeated weakly. 'What do you mean? You want us to adopt a baby'? Then a new thought came to me 'Or do you mean you've found someone you want to marry... .'

'No, damn It', he broke in. His face was flushed, and he seemed almost angry 'I don't want to adopt, and there's no one else I want our child.'

'Our child?' I was stunned. 'But that would mean...'

'Exactly', he snapped. He ran a hand over his hair. 'I know it sounds crazy, given the terms of our marriage, but I've become obsessed with the idea'. He gave me a pleading look 'I know it's a lot to ask, given the way you feel about me, about Richard, but would you just think it over, at least consider it?'

My head was spinning. I had to do something, move around, get away from him. I couldn't think straight. I jumped up and walked across the room to the window, and stood staring down at the traffic going by in the street below. I could feel him watching me, waiting for me to say something.

What could I say? It was the last thing I had expected. The implications of his request boggled my mind. Of course, it was out of the question. I couldn't sleep with a man I didn't love, a man who didn't love me.

What would he do if I refused? Would he leave me? Find someone who would accommodate this sudden lust for offspring? I began to grow angry. It was easy enough for him, I thought, clenching my fists at my sides. A man didn't need emotional commitment for s*x. Give him a moderately attractive face and body, and it didn't take much to arouse his instincts.

I whirled around, ready to accuse him of merely wanting to use me when I saw the look on his face. The mouth was set, the grey eyes half-shut, and I knew I was being unfair. Matthew wasn't like that. Although there were aspects of his character I hadn't begun to understand, I did know he was an honorable, considerate man. He liked me, he respected me, and now he wanted me to bear his child.

'You've taken me completely by surprise,' I said at last. 'I had no idea this was what was bothering you.' I smiled weakly. 'I thought you wanted your freedom.'

The heavy dark eyebrows shot up. 'What in the world gave you that idea? I'm perfectly satisfied with our arrangement. I just want a child before I'm too old.'

'Let me think about it for a few days.'

'Of course.' He smiled stiffly. 'I'm grateful you'll go that far.'

It was all I thought about for the next two days, I was tempted, several times, to call Margaret and ask for her advice, but I knew I couldn't do that without revealing to her the true nature of my marriage and opening up a torrent of questions and advice.

The one thing I became gradually certain of was that I really did want a child. I thought of suggesting adoption to Matthew, but that could take years, and why adopt when you could have your own?

The unresolved question uppermost in my mind, however, was whether I could go through the necessary preliminaries with Matthew without love, without desire. Certainly, I reasoned, he wasn't repulsive to me. On the contrary, I found him very attractive. I had just never thought of him that way.

I began to look at him with new eyes. He didn't bring up the subject again, and I knew he wouldn't, but the whole atmosphere in the apartment was changed. We treated each other with elaborate courtesy and kept a distance between us, but the tension in the air was electrifying.

By the end of the second day, I had come to the conclusion that there was no good reason not to do as Matthew wished. After all, I wasn't a blushing young virgin about to be violated for the first time. We were legally married and neither of us was interested in looking for love with anyone else. We would stay together, have a family, and make a life. Still, I hesitated. What more did I want? Why not just give him what we both wanted?

That second night, before Matthew came home, I went into my room and stood looking down at Richard's photo. It suddenly dawned on me that I rarely thought about him anymore. I would always love him, but the sting of his loss was gone.

I dimly comprehended then why I was still resisting Matthew's request. I was afraid. A wave of sheer terror swept over me when I finally admitted it to myself. To sleep with him, to respond to him physically, would mean not only shutting the door on Richard but leaving myself emotionally vulnerable to Matthew.

But that was silly. Matthew wasn't asking me for an emotional commitment. Even a physical response on my part wasn't really necessary. I didn't have to show passion, just be available. Surely I could do that for the sake of a child, a child I knew I wanted more and more.

As I reasoned it out, the fear gradually subsided, and I knew what I had to do. I picked up the photo in its heavy silver frame, walked over to my dresser and opened the bottom drawer where I kept odds and ends of bank statements, old calendars, and official documents. I placed the photo inside and closed the drawer.

Matthew came home late that night. It was after nine before we'd finished eating and I had cleared the kitchen. I had made up my mind to give him my answer tonight, and I moved around the kitchen like a robot, putting things away mechanically, my heart pounding dully, painfully in my chest.

When I finally finished in the kitchen, I poured two cups of coffee, set them down on a tray and carried them into the living room. Matthew was sitting on the sofa reading the evening paper.

'Matthew,' I said.

He glanced up at me and smiled. 'Ah, coffee. Just what I need.' He reached for a cup.

I sat down beside him. 'Matthew, I've made up my mind.' His hand stilled in mid-air, then he set the cup carefully back down on the tray and turned to me. 'Yes?'

'I'll do it I'll have your child.'

There, it was out. I felt weak with relief, and the look of gratitude on his face told me I had done the right thing. For the first time since I'd known him, the pain was gone and the grey eyes were alight with pleasure.

Later that night, I stood in my bedroom, gazing at my reflection in the mirror and wondering if Matthew would come to me. After my shower, I had put on a nightgown Margaret had given me as a wedding present. My cheeks burned now as I saw how revealing the pale peach-colored garment was. Thin straps were attached to the points of an extremely low-cut bodice that plunged between my breasts in a deep V. The material was paper-thin silk with lace insets at the midriff and sides.

I shook my head. I simply couldn't let him see me like this. I found the loose matching robe, slipped it on and tied it firmly at the neck. But would he even come? Just in case, I turned off the light, leaving only a dim lamp on the bedside table.

There had been no discussion after I gave him my answer. The telephone had rung several times, and finally, I had gone to my room. I wanted to be alone anyway. I wished my erratic pulse beat would settle down. It was eleven o'clock by now. Surely he wouldn't come this late. I might as well go to bed.

Then the knock came, and I almost jumped out of my skin. My heart lurched sickeningly. What was I doing? Was I mad? I couldn't go through with it.

'Jennifer,' came the low voice. 'May I come in'?

With trembling fingers, I tightened the tie of my robe. 'Come in, Matthew', I called.

He had brought along a bottle of wine and two glasses balanced precariously on a tray. When he saw me standing by the dressing table, he only stared for a few seconds, his eyes moving over me, studying me. Burning with embarrassment, I was thankful I'd at least put on the robe over the revealing nightgown.

He was dressed in a dark robe. I could see that his chest was bare and that he had on pajama bottoms. His hair was still a little wet from the shower, and as he came closer, I noticed that he had shaved. And I wondered if he could be a little nervous, too.

When he spoke, however, his voice was steady. 'I thought you might like a glass of wine.' He set the tray down on a corner of the dressing table.

'Yes, please,' I croaked shakily.

He gave me a sharp glance, then poured the wine and handed me a glass. I swallowed it gratefully, and as the warmth spread through I began to feel a little calmer.

'There's no need to be nervous, Jennifer,' he said earnestly. 'Trust me. I won't rush you or hurt you.'

I nodded and looked shyly up at him. I did trust him, and he was far from repulsive to me. The dark robe was belted loosely in front, revealing his strong throat and tanned upper chest. I had never seen him like this before, nor felt his powerful masculinity so intensely.

He reached out a hand and touched my hair, ran it around to the back of my head, murmuring, 'You're a beautiful woman, Jennifer.' He pulled me gently towards him. 'I want you to know I am attracted to you. Your hair is like silk. I've wanted to touch it like this so many times.'

His face was so close to mine now that I could see the dark flecks in his silvery eyes, smell the soapy fragrance of his face and hair, and I knew from the light in those hooded eyes that he desired me.

I stiffened involuntarily, alarmed at the close contact and the assault on my senses of his close proximity. His hold on me relaxed slightly, and he drew back, looking down into my eyes.

'Don't be afraid, Jennifer,' he said in a low voice. 'You can back out at any time. Try to relax.'

I nodded my head and swallowed. 'I'll try,' I whispered.

I closed my eyes then and felt his cool lips brush lightly, tentatively against mine. His other hand came up to cup my chin, and when I sighed and leaned against him, I heard him draw in his breath sharply.

His kiss hardened then, and his arms came around me, drawing me closely up against his long, lithe body. He tore his mouth away and placing light, lingering kisses on my face, my eyes, my chin, moved to my ear, his cheek pressed against mine.

'I want you, Jennifer,' he groaned. 'Put your arms around me. Pretend you love me.'

He wants me, his voice echoed in my ears, and I slowly slid my arms up around his neck. Then his lips were on mine again, more insistent this time. I felt his tongue move tentatively against my lips, startling me, and I drew back.

'Don't,' he ground out, his lips finding mine again, 'don't leave me like this. Please.'

My thoughts raced madly. I had made up my mind to go through with this. I couldn't back down now. I had prepared myself to submit passively. What I hadn't been prepared for were the sensations his touch evoked me. It had never occurred to me that I would respond to him, that my own desire would betray me. I felt myself to be in some kind of danger but didn't understand why or what it was I feared.

Almost against my will, my lips parted now, and I gasped tremulously as his tongue invaded my mouth. He tasted of toothpaste and the wine he had drunk, a clean heady taste that filled me with pleasure.

His hands were moving now over my back, the thin silky material of my robe sliding sensuously on my bare skin. His touch was firm and sure, and as his warm hands traveled over my rib-cage, brushing against the sides of my breasts, I knew I wanted him, too.

He pulled at the ties of my robe and slipped it off my shoulders. One Hand came back to settle on my breast, warm and soft, moving sensitively on the bare skin above the low bodice of the wispy nightgown. I gasped as I felt his fingers playing lightly with the barely covered n****e, taut and thrusting under the thin silk.

All thinking ceased when he slipped the thin straps of my gown from my shoulders and the hand moved from one aroused, quivering breast to the other. I threw my head back when his mouth left mine and traveled down to my neck, to my breast, leaving a trail of fire until it closed mostly on one hard peak.

I hadn't known, hadn't dreamed, lovemaking could be like this. My whole body was a mass of sensation. All I was aware of where Matthew's hands and mouth on my body, his ragged breathing. The frantic potency of his unleashed passion overwhelmed me. Gone were the iron control and the remote manner, to reveal a Matthew I had never known existed.

When he released me momentarily to shrug out his own robe, I clutched blindly at him, my hands roaming over the smooth bare chest, the hard muscles of his arms and shoulders, and when he came back to me, crushing me to him, I moaned deep in my throat and molded my body to his with a wild longing I had never, experienced before.

His hands slid down to my hips, pulling my lower body against his, his need for me unmistakable, sure proof of my power over him. I looked up into his eyes. In the dim light burning across the room by the side of the bed, I could see the fire in the grey eyes and the broad chest heaving as he struggled for control.

'Now, Jennifer,' he muttered in a rasping breath. 'Now.'

I nodded. 'Yes, Matthew. Oh, yes.'

Slowly, his arms still tight around me, he began to propel my back towards the bed, his strong thighs guiding my steps as if in a dance. He lowered me gently down onto the bed, then reached out to turn off the light with one hand, removing the pajama bottoms at the same time with the other.

The darkness only seemed to intensify our passion. I clung to him as his body covered mine, and then we were finally joined together, the pounding momentum building to a crescendo of pure, soul-shattering pleasure, as I became Matthew's wife at last.