“I apologize, Sebastian. It isn’t your fault. Please forgive my … behavior.” I spoke coldly, formally, afraid to give way to further emotion. “I think you’d better leave now.”
“Please. Don’t send me away.”
His voice was husky.
When I didn’t reply, he stood up and walked into the bathroom, his eyes downcast, searching the floor for an answer that wasn’t there. I could hear the soft rustle of material and I knew he was getting dressed.
I hurried into the kitchen, needing activity to stop my hands from shaking. I cleared away a puddle of melting ice, and threw the antiseptic cream into the nearest drawer.
Then I leaned over the sink, trying to force some coherent thought into my befuddled brain. I heard his quiet footsteps on the linoleum and, taking a deep breath to calm my nerves, I turned to face him.
The expression on his face shocked me: he looked so broken.
“Oh, Sebastian!”
And I started to cry.
Half a heartbeat later I was in his arms, my cheek against his chest, and he was stroking my hair.
“Don’t be sad, Caroline, I love you. It’ll be okay.”
I was crying and laughing and crying. How ridiculous. Of course it wasn’t going to be okay. How ridiculously happy and terrified and happy I felt.
I lifted my head, aware that I was red-eyed and hideous.
He wiped my tears with his thumbs.
I thought he was going to speak, but then we heard the sound of a car outside.
“David!”
Panic lanced through me.
“You have to go! Quickly! Out through the backyard. Go!”
He turned to run to the door, then skidded to a halt. “When will I see you again?”
“I don’t know! Go! Go!”
“Promise I’ll see you again! Promise me!”
“Okay, I promise!” I said desperately, staring aghast at the front door.
He pulled me to him, kissing me fiercely. And then he was gone.
Trying to breathe naturally, I ran to the bedroom, straightening the sheets, plumping up the pillows where Sebastian had been lying just a few minutes before. There was no time to change the sheets and I felt faintly appalled by the thought of David sleeping where Sebastian and I had made love.
I heard his key in the lock, and then remembered that I’d shaved Sebastian’s hair in the bathroom. I raced in and fell to my knees, sweeping up the sun-blond hair with my hands and tossing it down into the toilet bowl.
A sudden desire to have something of Sebastian made me pick up one lock and shove it deep inside the pocket of my robe. Then I pulled the handle and watched fascinated as the rest of the hair was swirled away. I splashed some water on my face and ran a brush through my knotted hair.
I heard a crash in the living room. As I’d expected, David was drunk.
“Car’line … Car’line.”
He saw me and licked his lips.
“Beau’ful Car’line. Bella, bella!”
I tried to lift one of his arms over my shoulder so I could help him to the bedroom, but he pushed me off, tugging open my robe. He ran his hands over my breasts as I tried again to steer him stumbling toward the bedroom.
“Come on, David, give me some help here.”
“What I’d like to give you, Car’line. C’mere.”
He tried to grab me again but missed and fell face first onto the bed. He was asleep instantly.
With relief, I straightened my robe and then pulled off his shoes and socks. His uniform would be un-wearable in the morning.
Glad of something to do, I hunted around in the closet until I found a clean shirt and the rest of his spare service summer whites. The pants would need pressing.
I’d tucked the portable ironing board into a closet in the utility room. I pulled it out, wincing when a mop clattered to the floor. But David didn’t stir.
I set the iron to ‘hot’, finding some equilibrium in the familiar drudgery.
I was appalled by what I’d done. What part of ‘forsaking all others’ wasn’t clear? And with a child! Dear God! I deserved to burn in purgatory for all eternity. But I couldn’t think of Sebastian as a child, even though the law defined him as such. He’d made love to me; we’d made love together.
I knew it was wrong: I knew it was right.
I’d have to leave. I’d have to persuade David to take an assignment somewhere else. But what excuse could I give? That I missed my friends on the east coast? No, that wouldn’t even give him pause for thought during the length of a coffee break. That I wanted to be nearer to my mother? No, he’d never believe that. My brain was empty of further excuses.
Maybe I could leave? Leave David, start again somewhere else—no job, no home, no money? It was a terrifying prospect. I’d never been alone my whole life; I didn’t know how to do it.