Untold Sorrow

Your love is all I need

The apartment seemed very quiet when Jennifer let herself in late the next afternoon. She went straight to her room and unpacked her things, hanging the few clothes she had taken with her back in the closet, setting out her toilet stuff on the bare dressing table, and putting away her underwear in the chest of drawers.

She went into the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea. There was hardly a trace of Matthew there. A glass and a cup had been rinsed and were turned upside down on the counter to drain, but other than that the room looked as though no one had entered it since she left. He had probably eaten his meals out, she thought.

Then an idea came to her. Why not cook him a nice dinner? It would be a good way of letting him know she was home to stay. She glanced through the cupboards and refrigerator. There wasn't much to work with, she soon saw. A half dozen eggs, a quart of milk, an unopened pound of butter, some canned soup.

There was a boneless cooked ham in the freezer. She could make an omelet. Tomorrow she would go shopping, stock up the nearly empty shelves and barren fridge. Matthew needed taking care of, she thought, a fierce rush of love filling her heart. He needs me.

She set the ham out on the kitchen counter to thaw and with her mug of tea in her hand, she wandered through the apartment. It was good to see her own things again in the living room, the rust-colored sofa, the small gold chairs. I'll build a fire later, she thought, give him a cheerful cozy place to come home to.

It was a beautiful apartment, with limitless possibilities once she set her mind to it and gave up her former tentative feeling about her marriage. They could start entertaining more at home. Matthew would like that. She continued her inspection, her mind occupied with plans for the future until she found herself just outside Matthew's bedroom. She stopped Short. The door was open.

On an impulse, she stepped inside, her eyes darting immediately, instinctively, to the bedside table where she had seen Beth's silver-framed photograph. It was gone! Jennifer caught her breath sharply. What did it mean? A wild hope surged within her. Then, sobering, she thought, perhaps he out of town and had taken it with him.

Of course, she decided, her spirits drooping. The cold apartment, the barren cupboards, the spotless kitchen. He was gone. She should have called him first before she came. She glanced at her watch. It was at six o'clock. Ordinarily, he would have been home by now.

She went back into the kitchen and rinsed out her cup. Nothing has changed, she thought dully. A wave of despair passed over her. It was dark outside now, she could see through the kitchen window, and the rain spat against the blackened pane, driven by a sudden gust of wind. She glanced around the spotless kitchen sadly. It was hard now to recall her happy plans of just a few minutes ago.

Then she noticed a newspaper lying folded up in a far corner of the counter. Idly, she unfolded it and glanced down at the date. November the~ Twentieth. That was today. He must have been here this morning, at any rate. She frowned. There was a significance to that date. What was it? She stood there, pondering, for several moments, and then it dawned on her.

November the twentieth was the anniversary of Beth's death! How could she have forgotten? What a stupid day to pick to come back! Wherever Matthew was he was most likely off on his annual drunk, the photograph of his dead wife with him, his thoughts immersed in her.

She stood there shivering uncontrollably. The apartment seemed so cold all of a sudden. Her first impulse was to run, to leave, to come back another day, perhaps not to come back at all. Then she thought of the child she was carrying, her resolution to make a life with Matthew no matter what it cost.

Was she going to run away at the first disappointment? I won't give up, she thought. She squared her shoulders with renewed determination and strode purposefully into the hall and turned up the heat. I'll have a little supper, she decided, shower and make a fire. Even if I have to spend the evening all by myself, it'll make me feel better to be doing something.

Later that evening, Jennifer sat drowsily in front of the gently flickering fire. It had been good therapy to keep busy. After she had eaten and bathed, she made the fire and sat in front of it reading for a while. Later, she put some music and switched off the lamp.

She was curled up comfortably now on the long couch, gazing at the flames, her eyes half-closed.

She emptied her mind and allowed the music to fill it, responding, as always, to the beautiful sounds that transported her into another world, a world of the spirit where every problem seemed petty and unimportant.

So rapt was she in this private world that she didn't hear Matthew's key in the lock or hear him enter the apartment until some sixth sense told her she was not alone. She opened her eyes and slowly turned her head.

At first, she wasn't sure who it was standing there in the shadows of the darkened room, and her heart gave a great leap of fear. She sat bolt upright, her hand at her throat, her green eyes staring until he took a step forward and she recognized him in the light of the fire.

'Matthew,' she said with a sigh of relief. 'You scared me. I thought you were out of town.'

He didn't speak. He only stood there staring down at her, his expression unreadable, his face haggard and drawn. Then she remembered what day it was and gave him a closer look. Was he drunk? She wished now she had left when the impulse hit her earlier.

Then he came towards her and sat down on the couch beside her. Her expression was grave.

'I'm very glad to see you, Jennifer,' he said, his deep voice perfectly steady. 'Have you come to stay?'

He obviously was quite sober. Her spirits soared. 'If you still want me to,' she replied, staring directly into the grey eyes.

'Yes,' he said firmly. 'I want you to. Very much. You know that.' Then he closed his eyes and leaned his head back. 'God, I'm tired,' he said wearily. 'I've been in meetings since early this morning and only just got away.' He opened his - eyes then and grinned crookedly. 'I'm also grimy and hungry.

Not a great reception for your homecoming, I'm afraid. You've taken me quite by surprise. I'm sorry, Jennifer. Maybe we can celebrate tomorrow night.'

She watched him as he spoke, her eyes drinking in the dark hair, the broad forehead, the strong straight nose, the firm chin, but most of all the liquid silvery eyes, alight now with genuine pleasure. Great waves of love broke over her. This is where I belong, she thought fiercely. He needs me, and I need him. She put a handout and laid it on his arm.

'Don't worry about me,' she said softly. 'I'm fine. Why don't you go and clean up and I'll fix you something to eat.' She stood up, tying the blue robe more firmly. 'There isn't much. You'll have to make do with an omelet.'

He loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt, then stretched widely. She stared down at him, mesmerized by the way the strong chest muscles strained against the white shirt and longed to throw herself into his arms.

He glanced up at her, smiling broadly now. 'That sounds great.'

He stood up and leaned down impulsively to brush her forehead lightly with his lips. When he drew back, their eyes met briefly. He looked away. 'You're a good wife, Mrs. Smith.' His tone was casual, joking. 'I won't be long,' he added as he walked away from her towards his bedroom. 'Give me half an hour.'

As she worked in the kitchen fixing his supper, Jennifer hummed happily to herself. He seems glad to see me, she thought, as she sliced the ham and beat the eggs. And if the haggard look on his face when she first saw him had been for Beth, it was the sight of her, Jennifer that had taken it off.

In a little over half an hour, she had a tray ready for him and carried it into the living room. He was already there, and she saw him now bent over the fire, stoking it. She watched while he put on another log, then crouched there gazing into the flames, the firelight flickering over his tanned strong features. He had dressed after his shower in a pair of black trousers and a soft grey flannel shirt, open at the neck, the cuffs turned up.

Her throat tightened at the sight of him, and her mouth felt suddenly dry. She loved him so much. If only he could love her, too. 'Here's your supper,' she said in a falsely bright tone as she advanced into the room.

He turned to look at her, the grey eyes following her every movement as she set the tray down on the coffee table in front of the fire. He rose slowly to his feet and came to her side.

'Sit down with me, Jennifer,' he said. 'Stay with me.'

'Yes, of course.'

While he ate, they chatted about his work, her holiday commission, and what they had both been doing in the past seven weeks. He seemed very hungry and finished every bite of the meal she had prepared for him.

When he had finished she poured coffee for them both. He took his cup and leaned back with a deep sigh of contentment.

'That was wonderful, Jennifer. I've missed your cooking. Almost as much as I've missed you.'

He was gazing at her now, gravely, holding her eyes in his. A sudden tension had sprung up in the air between them, and Jennifer's skin prickled uneasily. She was uncomfortably aware that all she had on was the thin blue robe, and she resisted the impulse to tighten the belt again. She sensed instinctively that he still desired her, and knew from her own quickening pulse that if he made one move towards her, she would be lost.

She thought again of today's date and its meaning to Matthew. She couldn't allow herself to be a surrogate for Beth. She could do without love, she thought, but before she could respond to Matthew again, she must know that his desire was for her, and not for a ghost. She made up her mind,

Then, set her cup carefully down on the tray and turned to him.

'You seem to have got through the day much better this year than last,' she said in a light, brittle voice.

He frowned. 'I don't understand what you mean,' he replied with a puzzled look. 'What's so special about today?' He stared blankly at her.

'It's November the twentieth. Remember? Has it got any better?'

Then the light suddenly dawned in the grey eyes as he took in the significance of the date, and the meaning of her questions. For one split second, pain flickered in the silvery depths. He shook his head, set his own cup down, and turned to her.

'I'd forgotten,' he said in a tone of amazed disbelief. 'It had slipped my mind entirely until you mentioned it.' Jennifer held her breath, hardly daring to hope. He smiled. 'I've been so frantic about losing you,' he went on, 'scheming how to get you back, how to keep you, that there's been no room

For anything else.'

'I see,' Jennifer said in a small voice. 'Well, I'm back. To stay.' She looked down at her hands, twisting the ties of her robe in her lap and chose her words carefully. 'I want you to know, Matthew that I understand how you feel. I know you'll always love Beth, that she comes first.' She gave him a direct look. 'You didn't have to put her picture away to spare my feelings.'

He was staring hard at her, his eyes wide, a look of sheer disbelief on his face. 'God, is that what you think?' he breathed. 'I put that picture away weeks ago, right after you left. When I thought I'd lost you for good, I wanted to replace it with one of you, but I couldn't find one. Then I decided to go to Margaret's party, after all, to corner you, and make you come back, even if I had to carry you off over my shoulder.'

Jennifer's heart gave a great leap. Was he telling her the truth? Finally, barely able to control the tremor in her voice, she asked simply, 'Why didn't you?'

He gave her a grim look. 'When I walked in and saw you there with David, laughing, having such a good time, looking so beautiful, I suddenly realized that I had nothing to offer you. All I ever did was make you unhappy. I despised myself for forcing myself on you, half-raping you that last night, for God's sake.'

'I asked for that, Matthew,' she said firmly. 'Besides, I had agreed to have a child.'

He made an abrupt gesture with his hand. 'I know, I know, but I also knew all along it was Richard you loved, and I shouldn't even have made such a request in the first place.'

'Richard!' she exclaimed. 'I don't love Richard.' She reached but a hand and touched his arm. 'Oh, I'll always love him, in a way,' she went on earnestly, 'but Richard is dead. He belongs to the past. You're my husband, now.'

He stared at her, unbelievingly, for a long time. 'Then why did you leave me?' he ground out at last.

She drew her hand away and dropped her eyes to her lap again. 'I couldn't bear it,' she choked out, 'sleeping with you, responding to you, then waking up in the morning and finding you gone.' She looked at him. 'I thought you were using me, to make a baby, as a substitute for the woman you really loved.'

He was shaking his head from side to side. 'I can't believe this,' he said slowly. 'How could two intelligent people operate at such cross-purposes for so long? I left you those times because I wanted to spare you waking up the next morning and seeing I wasn't Richard.'

He leaned slightly towards her then and gave her one long agonized look. He reached out tentatively and with his long, sensitive fingers, lightly touched her hair, her cheek, and her lips. She gazed into his eyes, trembling, burning with love and desire. Then, in a swift, sure movement, he gathered her up in his arms, pulling her to him, his face against hers, and his mouth at her ear.

'Oh, darling,' he groaned. 'What a fool I've been! I never dreamed I was hurting you. I loved you so much I wanted to save you pain, and all I did was cause it.' He clutched her as if he would never let her go.

She drew her head back and looked up at him. 'You loved me?' she asked breathlessly.

He nodded grimly. 'Almost from the first.' His hands cupped her face. 'You were so different from the others, so remote, so cool, and so obviously not interested in me or any other man. And different from Beth, too. I admit she was in my blood for a long time, more a habit, a self- indulgence than anything else.' He smiled. 'And protection, too, from matchmaking matrons.'

'Like Margaret?' she murmured, recalling how her sister had tried so blatantly to throw them together.

'Like Margaret,' he agreed. 'But as soon as I realized that you were really serious about not wanting an emotional involvement, I let down my guard, and from then on all I could think of was getting you on any terms.'

She put a hand up and ran it down the flat plane of his cheek. He had shaved, she could feel, and the skin was warm and smooth to her touch. 'But you were so cold all the time, so remote,' she said, puzzled. 'How was I to know how you felt?'

'I didn't want you to know,' he replied firmly. 'I was afraid if you knew how badly I had fallen for you, I'd frighten you off.'

'Matthew,' she accused, 'do you mean to tell me that your original proposition to join forces and the whole idea of a "platonic" marriage of convenience was all a lie?' Then she gasped as another idea occurred to her. 'And the sudden desire for a child?'

He gave her a wry smile. 'Not entirely. I really did want a child, but I wanted you more.' His arms tightened around her. 'You must understand, darling, that a man in love has no conscience.'

Jennifer struggled within herself for a moment between indignation and amusement. To deceive her like that! This man was too clever for his own good. He would bear watching in the future. That cool exterior hid a very complex and devious mind. Then she felt his hand moving slowly on her back, his mouth nuzzling softly along her neck, and an irresistible warmth began to spread through her again.

'Forgive me, darling?' he murmured now next to her mouth.

Their eyes met. 'I love you, Matthew,' she whispered. 'There's nothing to forgive.'

With a groan, his mouth hardened on hers, drawing in her lips, and then forcing them open, gently, coaxingly. Her arms went around his neck and she lifted herself towards him, aching to feel his hard muscular body next to hers.

She ran her hands up into his dark thick hair, her fingers raking through the crisp strands, every nerve in her body flaming, now, responding to him joyously. His hands were on her shoulders now, and he tore his mouth away from hers, pushing her away from him slightly so that she was looking up into his eyes, hooded and gleaming with desire. Slowly, his gaze never faltering, his hands slipped down her body, lingering over her straining breasts, bare underneath the thin material of her robe, and then down to fumble with the ties at her waist.

'I want to see you, Jennifer,' he rasped thickly.

She drew in her breath sharply and nodded, giving him tacit permission to do whatever he wanted

With her. She sat motionless, scarcely able to breathe, as he untied the robe, then reached up to slip it off her shoulders and down her arms until it fell loosely around her waist.

Her skin burned under his hungry gaze, and she lifted her chin slightly to mask the sudden shyness. His hands reached out to cover her breasts, the strong tapering fingers molding the soft fullness.

She moaned deep in her throat as his thumbs began circling around and around her n*****s, her momentary embarrassment gone in the sheer pleasure of his warm touch.

Then, almost in a frenzy, she began to unbutton his shirt, until his chest was bare. Moving the folds of material aside, she leaned down to touch the warm bare skin of his chest with her lips. She could feel the sudden rapid beating of his heart and the strong muscles quiver under her mouth as it moved over his body.

He stood up, then, bringing her with him. The robe fell to her feet and she stood before him in the dim light of the slowly dying fire. Shrugging quickly out of his shirt, he gathered her to him, crushing her breasts against his strong bare chest.

'Let's go to bed, darling,' he murmured at her ear.

The fire was barely flickering by now, and they made their way in almost total darkness down the hall to her bedroom. Matthew guided her from behind, pressed closely up against her, his arms firmly around her waist.

When they reached the side of the bed, one hand come up to move lightly, tantalizingly over her breasts, and the other slid down over her stomach, her hips, her thighs. By the light of the pale full moon shining dimly in through the sheer curtains at the bedroom window, she could see his hands traveling over her body, heightening the pleasure of his touch to an almost frightening intensity.

Moaning deep in her throat, she leaned back against him in mindless ecstasy, giving herself up completely to the exploring fingers and the shafts of sheer sensuous pleasure coursing through her. Slowly, he turned her around to face him, and his arms enfolded her closely, gently, protectively,

For several long moments. Then he looked down into her eyes.

'I love you, Jennifer,' he said. 'I want you more than I've ever wanted anything in my life. I was dead inside, and you've brought me back to life.'

'I love you, too, Matthew,' she breathed. 'So much more than I ever dreamed possible.'

She hesitated for a second, then, daringly, her fingers began to fumble at the buckle of his belt. His hands dropped loosely to his sides, and he stood motionless, looking down at her as she tugged at the black trousers, pulling them down over his lean hips and long legs.

When he stepped out of the trousers, she ran her hands back up slowly along the muscled legs, over the flat hard stomach, until, once again, her arms twined around his neck and she arched her body up close to his, joyously aware of his hard aching need of her.

With a groan, his arms came around her, his lips claimed hers once again, his tongue thrusting, probing the soft interior of her mouth, and they sank slowly on to the bed.

When they came together, at last, this time Jennifer could give herself to him totally, meeting his pulsing need with wild abandon, secure now in the knowledge that he loved her completely.