Page 29 of Hayes

"I have been deprived of twelve years where I thought I would never be with you again. Please don't deprive me of another minute. I could not bear it."

"Then give me time. Please give me time," she whispered, crawling into his arms, the tears rolling down her cheeks. "I need this, Hayes."

His arms came around her, rubbing her back as the tears watered his chest. His jaw clenched as he fought the misgivings, the fear of losing her.

He would agree with her wish because it would mean he would be with her, even in secret. It was better than not seeing her, not being able to hold her like this, and making love to her. He would agree for now, give her the time she requested.

"I am sorry as hell." he whispered in her hair. "I am sorry for what you went through back then, sorry for all of it." Shifting, he tilted her chin up. "We never talked about it, not really. We were out at the movies, and you received the call from the police–"

"They wouldn't tell me anything. Just that there had been an incident," she continued. "We- I thought it was a fire, a vehicular crash because they said they were going out for dinner."

"And they were all right when we left." He stroked her chin softly. "Your dad was jocular, teasing me about taking care of his prized possession."

"And you told him you could do nothing less. Mom was–" She shook her head. "She was quiet and that was not like her." She gazed at him. "She would usually be flirting with you."

"I never–"

She shook her head. "I knew that Hayes. She was competing with me, it's what she did best. Whether it was with my dad or you or even my female friends. She would come into my room and borrow my clothes and ask me if we had done the deed yet." Her fingers gripped his wrist as the memories washed over her.

"When I told her that we hadn't, she would give me one of her sly smiles and say that if I don't hurry up, she might have to do it for me. She would always tease me, but I knew she meant it." she blinked him back into focus. "She kissed you–"

"I never encouraged her," he interjected swiftly.

"I knew that too." She shook her head. "They were fighting the night before, and I locked myself in my room."

"You called me, and I knew something was wrong."

"And I told you. Daddy came into my room later that night, and he was in a strange mood. He told me he loved me and that he worshiped my mother. He also warned me against loving someone too much." Her fingers dug into his flesh.

"He said it's a mistake to put someone's needs ahead of your own. I asked if he did not approve of you, and he said it's obvious you loved me. And he warned me not to hurt you.

'You have that power, Camelia, don't abuse it.'" She lapsed into silence, and he wondered what on earth he could say to her to wipe that haunted look off her exquisite face.

"When we came home with all those squad cars parked at the gate, you held me. I knew something awful had happened, and you stayed with me. Even when my aunt came. They wouldn't let me go inside the house, wouldn't let me see–"

"It would have been too much for you."

"He killed her," she whispered achingly. "How could he have loved her and then do that? How could he not have thought about me? His own daughter– What was going through his mind that would lead him to take two lives and leave me here alone? Those questions have been running through my mind for years and I am so angry.

Hayes, I am so mad at him—no matter what she did, he could have divorced her; he knew who she was. That she was vain and foolish and insecure about her looks, that she constantly needed validation. She would be asking: 'Are there lines on my face'? 'Do you think I should get him removed'? Things like that.

She hated the fact that she was plus sized, it did not matter that she was so beautiful, she wanted to be perfect." The tears were streaming down her cheeks and breaking his heart. "He killed her because he never really loved her; he only thought of her as a possession, that's all."

"That's enough now, sweetheart," he said hoarsely. "I should never have asked you, bring it all back up. I am not him, Cammy. I adore you, but I would never do anything to hurt you.

Certainly not that. I believed he loved her in his own selfish way, but you are right; she was also a possession to him. I am here, Cammy. Darling, I am here for you, and I always will be."

She moved into his arms, and he held her in silence while she cried. When she was finished, he slid into bed next to her so that he could cradle her like a baby. She was his life, his priority, and if he was going to agree to wait on her, then he would try and be patient.

*****

The lovemaking that followed the emotional upheaval was tumultuous and dragged out by him as he did his best to remove, even temporarily, the memories of her past, of what they had been subjected to that terrible night. But he could not sleep.

She was cradled in his arms and for the first time in more than twelve years, he was spending the night with her next to him. Just like he had dreamed about for all those years. Her bare flesh was pressed against his, and if he could join their bodies, meld them together, he would.

That was how much he needed her. His mind drifted back to that awful night. They were so happy. It was almost time for them to graduate. They had been to the prom and had been crowned prom king and queen, which had been no surprise. He was going to be valedictorian, something she told him she was proud of.

The date to the movies had been a celebration of sorts. They had their plans. Graduation and then college—the same college. They had decided not to live in a dorm but to find an apartment and live together.