Untold Sorrow

He stole my smile

Jennifer's P.O.V:

'I should think you would have learned by now, Jennifer,' Margaret was saying in an exasperated tone, 'that it only does harm to hold it all in. Now, for the last time, will you please tell me what's going on'?

I laid down my pencil with a sigh and looked up at her. We were in the small attic room at Margaret's that I used as a studio, and I was hard at work trying to get some holiday drawings finished for the Philadelphia store before Thanksgiving.

'All right,' I said at last. 'What do you want to know?'

Margaret plumped herself down on the rickety wooden chair beside my work table with a grunt of satisfaction.

'I really don't mean to pry,' she said in a kinder tone. 'I understand that it's your nature to keep your troubles to yourself, but I just need to know what's going on between you and Matthew. You've been here for over a month now, and every time I even mention his name, you either bite my head off or disappear.'

I gazed out the window at the bleak November landscape. The leaves were all gone from the trees and soon it would be winter again. Another cold, icy winter alone. I turned to her.

'There's really nothing to tell. We've agreed on a temporary separation, that's all.'

'But why?' Margaret wailed. 'You seemed so happy together, just right for each other.' She gave me a sharp look. 'Something must have happened. Was it another woman?' That when my eyes flew open in alarm at the suggestion, Margaret smiled grimly. 'I see I've hit a nerve. Was he unfaithful? I can't believe that of Matthew. He's not the type. '

I looked down at my hands, idly toying with the pencil. 'No,' I said slowly. 'It wasn't another woman.' I paused. In a sense, this wasn't true. There was another woman—Beth— although not the way Margaret meant it.

'Well, then?' Margaret prompted.

I took a deep breath. 'Matthew is still in love with his first wife. Beth.'

For a long moment, Margaret only stared at me. Then, briskly, she said, 'That's nonsense! Anyone could see he was crazy about you. He treated you as though you were made of glass, and I caught him several times looking at you as though he'd like to eat you. No,' she shook her head vigorously, 'Matthew loves you.'

I smiled stiffly. It did no good to try to explain to Margaret. 'You're wrong,' I said at last. 'Oh, I think Matthew likes me and wants me, but he never loved me. Not the way he loved Beth.'

We sat in silence for some time. I hated having to discuss my marriage with anyone. I had had no contact with Matthew at all in the six weeks I'd been at Margaret's, but hardly a day, an hour, a minute passed that I didn't think of him and miss him.

Several times I had been tempted to call him, just to hear his voice, but I knew that would only make it harder for me in the long run. I had to make a clean break.

'What are you going to do?' Margaret asked finally.

I shrugged. 'I don't know. We haven't really discussed it. Get a divorce, I suppose, eventually.'

Margaret gave a small snort of impatience. 'I think you're out of your mind. What do you care if he thinks he still loves this Beth? She's gone. You're alive. I know Matthew loves you in his way. Can't you just accept what he's able to give and make a life together?'

I gave her a long, bleak look. 'I could,' replied quietly, 'except that I'm hopelessly in love with him.'

Margaret only stared. 'I see,' she said slowly at last. I cringed under the pitying look.

Then Margaret jumped to her feet. 'Well, I must get busy. It's almost noon and I haven't begun to get things ready for the party.

'Party!' I exclaimed. 'What party?'

Margaret put her hands on her hips and gave me a disgusted look. 'The party I've been planning for the past three weeks, of course. Don't tell me you've forgotten.'

'No,' I said slowly. 'I hadn't forgotten. I just didn't think it would be so soon.' I raised my eyes in sudden suspicion. 'Have you invited Matthew?'

Margaret reddened and patted her hair nervously. 'Well, yes, to be honest, I did.'

'Well, then, I won't go,' I stated flatly.

'He declined,' Margaret rushed ahead. 'He said he'd be out of town.' She paused. 'He asked about you when I called him.

'What did you tell him?'

Margaret shrugged. 'Just that I didn't understand you and never had. He seemed concerned about you.' She waited, but when I didn't answer, she gave another exasperated exclamation, then turned and stalked out of the room.

I turned back to my work, relieved the painful discussion was finally over. I hated talking about it. Of course, he would be concerned. That didn't mean he wanted me back. One word, I thought, one movement towards me, and I knew I would have gone back to him on any terms.

Then I stared down at the half-finished drawing on the table. Why hadn't he called me? But then, I had left him. Maybe he was waiting for me to call him. Could we ever get back on the old footing again?

There was something else. I had begun to suspect that I might possibly be pregnant. As yet, it was only a faint possibility, too soon to tell? If it was true, we might be able to resume our original 'arrangement' and make it work, with a child to consider.

Then I thought of that last night we'd spent together, the hatred in the grey eyes, the unleashed violence of his lovemaking, brutal, punishing, unyielding. I shivered a little and picked up my pencil again. No one had ever treated me like that before in my life, I thought, trying to concentrate on my work. Certainly, Richard hadn't.

But no one, not even Richard, had ever aroused me to the pitch of passion Matthew had, either.

There was no way could I get out of putting in at least a token appearance at Margaret's party. Fifty people had been invited, and although the house was large, they'd be all over the place. I couldn't just hide in my room.

I waited to make my appearance downstairs until well after all the guests had arrived and the noise of the party drifted up to my bedroom. Most of my clothes were still at the apartment in town, and all I had to wear was the black dress I had on that last night I'd spent there. While at Margaret's, she had carefully mended the ripped front seam where Matthew had torn it in his fury.

When I slipped unobtrusively into the dining room where the bar had been set up, I was relieved to see that William was standing there talking to David and two other men on the President's staff. William

Looked so comfortable, I thought, so solid and reassuring, and I saw his eyes light up as I walked slowly towards him.

'Jennifer,' he greeted me warmly, putting an arm around my shoulders. 'Here you are. Will you have a drink?'

'Yes, please,' I murmured. 'Hello, David,' I said, turning to the stocky blond man. 'I haven't seen you for quite a while. How have you been?'

'Oh, same as usual,' he replied, 'trying to stay out of trouble.'

I laughed. 'Do you find that so difficult? What have you been up to?'

William handed me a drink and I took a grateful swallow. It wasn't so bad, I thought. These people are all my friends.

David had launched into a long explanation of the latest battle in the house, something to do with a trade-off between a Congressmen from Alabama and one from Kansas that involved peanut farmers and cattle ranchers. I couldn't quite follow it, but David made it sound as humorous as he imitated the two parties, that soon I was laughing along with the others.

I hadn't felt so light-hearted in months. I had been wrong, I decided now, to bury myself in work, hiding out at my sister's house in Virginia. It was time to start living again. Even without Matthew, if necessary.

Then I saw him, and the laughter died on my lips. He had suddenly just appeared in the doorway, tall and striking-looking in his dark suit, the grey eyes fixed firmly upon me in a long, hard stare. Almost choking on my drink and swaying a little at the impact his presence had on me, I instinctively reached out a hand to grasp William's arm for support. Had Margaret lied when she said he wasn't coming tonight?

He was walking slowly towards us now. The others hadn't noticed anything, I was grateful to see. David still had the floor, and attention was firmly fixed on him.

I knew there was no hope of avoiding Matthew now, and when he came to stand by my side, a little apart from the others, I released William's arm and moved back a step. Then, my heart still pounding wildly, I looked up at him.

'Hello, Matthew,' I said in a low shaky voice.

'Jennifer,' he said shortly with a curt nod. 'How are you?'

'I'm fine,' forcing a weak smile.

'I can see that,' he went on bitterly. 'You seem to be having a good time.' He glanced at David, who was just winding up his story, his appreciative audience roaring helplessly by now? He looked down at me gravely. 'I'd like to talk to you.' I thought a moment. We'd have to talk eventually. It might as well be now. 'Come into the study,' I said. 'I don't think we'll be disturbed.'

During this brief exchange, we had gradually started moving away from the others. We continued on now out of the room and down the long carpeted hall to William's study. When we were inside, I shut the door behind us and stood watching him, waiting to see what he would say.

A small fire was burning in the grate, and a lamp shone dimly on William's large oak desk, set squarely in the middle of the room. The walls were lined with books, and a large globe stood in the corner by a window. It was not a large room, and with the fire and the soft light, it seemed uncomfortably intimate to me now that the noise of the party had been shut out.

Matthew stood with his back to the fire, facing me, his legs slightly apart, his hands clasped behind him, a frown on the fine features.

'I won't beat about the bush, Jennifer,' he said at last. 'I came tonight to ask you to come back. I had it all planned. I knew you didn't want to see me—you hadn't contacted me once in all these weeks—so I told Margaret I wasn't coming.' His mouth twisted in a parody of a smile. 'I was going to take you by surprise, sweep you off your feet. Then when I walked in and saw you with David, the way you looked at him, laughed with him, I could see it was hopeless. All I ever seemed able to do was make you cry,' he ended on a note of regret.

'That's not true! 'David means nothing to me. He never did. He's merely entertaining. I never wanted you to entertain me'

'What did you want, Jennifer?' he shot back.

I longed to say that all I ever wanted was for him to love me, but the words stuck in my throat. I couldn't answer. He crossed over to where I stood by William's desk and looked down at me.

'I miss you, Jennifer,' he said bleakly. 'Will you come back? Will you try again? I promise I won't touch you, won't come near you.'

I bit my lip and glanced away, my mind racing. I was sorely tempted. It was what I wanted, wasn't It? But could we make it on those terms? Could we go back to our old platonic relationship after what had passed between us? I thought of my suspicion that I might be pregnant. That would make all the difference. If I was, indeed, carrying Matthew's child, I should go back to him.

I looked up at him. 'Let me think about it, Matthew. Give me a week or two.'

He nodded. 'Yes, of course.' A little light appeared then in the silvery eyes, warming me as I gazed into them. He may not love me, I thought, but I know how he really does want me to be his wife.

He left, then, and I didn't see him the rest of the evening. Apparently, he had gone home.

I drove into town the following week to see Dr. Eric. I had called on Monday, insisting that I had to see him as soon as possible, and his accommodating nurse had managed to squeeze me in for an appointment on Wednesday.

After the examination was over, I sat in his office clutching my handbag, anxiously awaiting his diagnosis.

'Well, my dear, I'd say you show all the signs of an expectant mother,' he said, at last, beaming. 'I'll Do another test, to be positive, but there's really no doubt in my mind.'

I thanked him and drove back to Virginia in a daze. Matthew's child, I thought over and over again. I'm carrying Matthew's child.

I knew now I would go back to him. We could have a good life together. The torment of living without him was far worse than the torment of living with him without love. At least this way, I could hope.

'Well, I'm glad of that,' Margaret said in a positive tone when I announced my decision to go back to Matthew that afternoon. 'You're choosing the wisest course. You'd be a fool to let a man like Matthew Smith get away from you.'

I only smiled. Margaret didn't begin to understand the true nature of my relationship with Matthew, and I had no intention of enlightening her. I hadn't told her about the baby, either. Matthew had the right to hear the news first.

Ever since my visit to Dr. Eric that morning and the subsequent decision to go back to Matthew, I had felt a deep sense of calm, at last, a sense of rightness. I knew there were hurdles ahead, but with a baby coming, it was worth fighting to save my marriage.

'When will you leave?' Margaret asked now.

We were sitting in front of the living-room fire drinking tea. It was raining out, another cold, bleak November day. Only this winter, I thought, leaning back in my chair and closing my eyes, I won't be alone.

'Tomorrow,' I replied at last. Then opened my eyes and exchanged a smile with my sister. 'I came with so little that I have hardly any packing to do.' 'I'm so glad, Jennifer,' Margaret said in a low unsteady voice. She brushed her eyes lightly with her fingertips. 'All I ever wanted was for you to be happy.'

'Oh, stop it, you i***t,' I teased. The sight of my sister's happy tears moved deeply. 'There are no guarantees it will work. You might have me on your hands again.'

'Oh, no,' Margaret said fervently. 'If you leave that man again, I won't take you in.'