Page 52 of Across Eternity

My tongue goes to my lips. I’m not sure what he wants of me now. I’m not sure if he wants to pick up where we left off, not that it’s really an option, or if he’s actually grieving the loss of his wife. Based on his silence, I guess maybe it’s the latter.

If he can’t even bring himself to ask me to stay, then it’s the surest sign I shouldn’t. “The two weeks I promised are nearly up,” I say quietly.

For a moment I’m greeted with another of his silences, and it feels like agreement. My chest begins to cave in on itself.

But then he takes three large strides to where I sit, and he drops to his knees in front of me. His head falls to my lap, like a child’s might. His voice is strangled when he finally speaks. “Please don’t leave me. I will find a way to earn your forgiveness. Please, just give me a chance.”

My eyes burn, and all that pain I felt in my chest a moment ago is still there, but it’s different. It’s pain mixed with relief. He still wants me. He will do what is necessary to fix what’s gone wrong. Tears slip down my face and I bury my hands in his hair, rest my face on the back of his head.

“I can’t just…it’s going to take me some time,” I finally say.

He raises his head. “I will give you all the time in the world,” he pleads. “Just stay.”

I nod, feeling heartbroken and ecstatic at once. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

* * *

Marie comes in, not much later, and we all move somewhat awkwardly around each other for the rest of the day. Henri takes care of the chores and Marie cooks and I take care of the baby and not a single one of us mentions how things are going to be from now on.

I watch Henri walking toward the house at dusk, and it’s the first time, in all these long weeks since I arrived, that I truly allow myself to appreciate him. To take in the sheer masculinity of those shoulders and his unshaved jaw and that swagger as he walks, and allow myself to want him again, want him in the way of something I might actually have.

When he comes inside, his smile for me is almost bashful. “How was she today?” he asks, nodding at Cecelia.

“Happy,” I reply. “I think she actually tried to hum when I sang to her. And she smiled. A real smile. Not just gas.”

He nods, biting his lip. “Thank you…for watching her.”

He’s never thanked me for this before. It makes things between us feel oddly formal, transactional, even. I don’t know what to make of it. “Of course.”

I’d hoped things might improve over dinner, but they do not. During the past weeks with Yvette here, we’ve gotten out of the habit of casually discussing things related to my time, or traveling, or anything beyond the mundane conversations you might hold with a stranger. We talk about the weather and the farm, and Cece most of all. Which is wonderful—there is plenty to discuss—but it doesn’t make me feel closer to him.

Henri still looks at me the way he has now for weeks. Hungrily. And as if the sight of me causes him pain. But I can’t go from a long discussion of Cecelia’s eating and pooping habits to ripping off his clothes.

“I’ll take her tonight,” says Marie with an awkward look between me and her brother.

Internally, I quail at the idea. There is not a chance I’m sleeping with him when his wife hasn’t even been gone twenty-four hours. I guess I still haven’t quite forgiven him after all, not entirely.

I shake my head. “You both barely slept last night and I’m used to having her with me. I’ll take her tonight.”

Henri’s shoulders, hunched over the table, grow still as I speak. His head remains facing down when I’m done. “Thank you,” he says formally. “I appreciate how much you’ve done for us these past few weeks.”

I smile politely in response, feeling as if, somehow, we just took a large step backward.

24

SARAH

Another day passes. Another night where I make excuses about Cecelia and sleep in my own room, longing for him yet unsettled by it all as well, though I don’t understand why.

On the third morning, Marie stops me. “What exactly is happening with you and my brother?” she asks.

I flush, moving Cece to my left shoulder. “I don’t know. I guess we’re getting to know each other again.”

“And how do you think that will happen when he’s so scared you’re going to leave that he’s treating you with kid gloves, and the only topic you’re willing to discuss with him is his two-week-old?”

“I don’t know what you want me to say. Do you think I want things to be like this?”

She pulls Cece out of my arms. “I’m taking her for a walk into town,” she says. “Please find my brother and solve this before I get home.”