CHAPTER 010

NINA.

"No, I can't go. Who knows if it's a plan to take my life," my self-monologue wavered with a wave of fear and uncertainty in my mind. "It is not like me, and I am not up to any more temptation; I added that in silence; my heart burdened by doubt.

"Honey, you were going to say something?" Drew asked, coming closer with a worried expression. I faltered, deciding what to say. "Uh, hmm," I stammered while looking for the right words. "Nothing, love."

"Well, have your dinner then," he smilingly said. He walked out and came back again with a tray of food on which some aroma emitted. "But what about Morel, my love?" I asked him, sounding slightly worried about our child.

"Morel already slept off," he said and set the tray before me.

I stretch my hand to finish eating now, while the aroma of good food tempts my entire being. Drew quickly stops me, however, holding my wrist gently. "No, honey, you are just recovering, let me feed you, okay?" he whispers softly to me, his eyes having concern and care. I look up into his eyes and echo his words with my voice at the level of a whisper: "Feed me?"

There is sarcasm in my tone, but I still hold curiosity for what he will say to convince me.

"Yes; I want our love back." His eyes fixed on mine, the expression belying deep longing. At the beginning of his feeding me, while his fingers were moving with tender precision, warmth spread across my chest, a happiness and contentment I hadn't felt in a long time. "Laurel has a good husband," I think. The thought makes me smile at the moment.

I get to my bed after some minutes, totally beaten from my work. The soft embrace of my bed welcomes me as my eyes slowly start to close, ready to slip into a comatose state. Just before all protesting ceases, I hear Drew's distant murmur call, "Baby." I look in his direction, and as our eyes meet, I see a ferocity flare in Drew's gaze.

"I miss you," he says, holding my gaze, his eyes clouded with sorrow. Eloquent words were floating in the air at that time. It conveyed poignancy over the distance that had grown between us, which now I could see in his eyes that much longing to reestablish contact necessary to bridge the gap across which he was looking at me.

While my eyes conversed with Drew's, his face leaned in, lips nearly brushing against mine. It was like he threw my lips before I realized what had happened, sending a teetering sensation down my spine. Our lips met with such lust, moving as if they were made for each other, and had been apart forever.

The kiss melted into a soul search: lips and mouths travelling down each other as they were sculpted by the other. Drew's fingers were in my hair, holding my face and bringing it near. Everything around me fell away as I succumbed, heart racing wildly, to the embrace.

Combining with the slightest touch of warmth, the inside of the room felt real, embracing, and flourishing with love. The world became wax-and-wane, melting away into their moment together; oh, how beautiful in time.

Drew briefly released me to catch his breath as he gazed deeply into my eyes with adoration and love. Then he claimed victory, crushing my lips against his again, and the kiss burned like a fire to illuminate my heart with warmth and love.

And guilt washed over me like a heavy wave. "Oh, I'm not sure I can kiss Laurel’s husband," I thought, getting a little sick in the gut. I tried to pull my lips away, but he held on tight; Drew pulled me closer and tighter. "Stop it already," I whispered.

"I'm just not ready," I added, and desperation entered my voice. I fell back on the bed with my face to the wall, guilt wrapping its heavy hands around my shoulders. The silence that ensued bore heavy with the weight of things not said.

Drew's voice pierced through the silence, filled with pain and hurt. "Laurel, how can you say you're not ready for a kiss?" he said, a challenge carried by the weight of his words. Oh, how I felt the pain in his voice and the feeling of being turned away and neglected. He sounded like a husband whose wife was ripping his heart out and walking away, leaving him standing lost and lonely.

"Please, just don't. I was so turned away from him I could barely get that one out. I'm so crushed in emotion, not a chance of facing Drew at this moment. After some time my eyelids feel heavy. Finally they closed, and I drifted in and out of the light sleep, with tense and guilt always lurking in my furious mind."

The next day, the soft tinkling sound of birds outside my window warmed me by oozing through the curtains and landing on my face. Yawning, stretching my arms, and propped up on my elbows while some really weird kind of tiredness gripped my insides. Turning left then right around the vast room, I quickly realized that Drew was gone. A neutral sense of relief to add on to my already heavy burden of guilt. Then, back flashed my memories from last night, and I was carted off back into my whirlpool of thoughts.

"I need to study about Laurel-who she is and how she lives. That way Drew won't suspect me." A new resolve welled up in me within a minute. "And wield her influence for my family," that seemed to settle on purpose across my chest. Throwing off the covers from my forty-eight, I got out of bed, entered the bathroom, splashed some water on my face, and steeled myself for the new day ahead.

As I walked towards the kitchen, the sumptuous wafting smell of breakfast hit my nostrils. I hurried just as I entered the kitchen and found Drew making some food at the stove. "Hi, honey, good morning," I said in a cheerful, casual tone.

But Drew just sat and stared at me, his expression impenetrable. I felt like someone had poured a bucket of ice water over me: it was with that Drew gaze that uncertainty began to engulf me, and a creeping sense of discomfort came over me. I stood there transfixed, unable to fathom his mind or find a bridge between us. Then he turned serious and said, "Laurel, can I talk to you about something? Something that is very important."

My heart began to race while I pondered what he was going to say. Did he suspect me? Did he suspect something? My face was willing to remain neutral, but my head was racing, thinking, "What is it?" while I tried to remain casual.