House of Mirrors

by Yvonne Whittal

  “You could have come after me.”

  “Not after the telephone conversation I had with Stacy.” His eyes were feverishly bright as they burned down into hers. “I’ll never forgive myself for being the cause of your miscarriage, and in a few choice words Stacy told me exactly what she thought of me.” He looked white and shaken, and totally unlike himself. “She told me that you never wanted to see me again- that you’d forbidden the use of my name.”

  “I was hurt, and I imagined that I hated you, but…” She paused, fighting against the lump in her throat and the painful memories. “It didn’t last very long,” she finally added in a choked voice.

  “I spoke to Stacy again a month ago, and she told me that you still refused to have anything to do with me,” he went on as if she had not spoke, and his hand shook when he raked his fingers through his dark hair with the silver wings against his temples. “I went a little mad after that, I think.”

  “Grant…” She could not stand his tortured expression a moment longer and taking his face between her hands, she whispered huskily, “I’ve never stopped loving you.”

  His fingers gripped her wrists lightly, and his mouth was like fire against her left, then her right palm, and to her horror, she saw there were tears in his eyes.

  “Can you ever forgive me?” he asked softly.

  “I’ve forgiven you long ago.”

  “I never dared hope for more than that.”

  She could not bear to see him so humble. It brought hot tears to her eyes and an aching lump to her throat. “If you want me, Grant, all you have to do is say so.”

  “I want you,” he groaned, and then she was in his arms, her softness yielding against the hard length of him as they kissed and kissed again with a hunger which would not be easily assuaged. They had been apart too long, and their need of each other had become too intense to be satisfied with kisses and wild caresses, and Liz almost cried out in protest when Grant dragged his lips from hers to bury his face against the smooth hollow of her throat. “I never knew how much I wanted you until you were no longer there, and then it was too late,” he said thickly, his arms tightening about her as if he were afraid she would try to get away from him. “It was like looking in those mirrors and discovering with a shock that you’d gone, your image was no longer there beside me like a breath of fresh air in that revolting house. That was when I took a long, harsh look at myself, and what I saw made me feel physically ill. I was more than just disgusted with myself, I was-“

  “Hush!” she interrupted him in a voice that shook with emotion. “Don’t say anything more.”

  His mouth shifted over hers with a hungry yet tender passion that stirred her to the very depths of her soul, and she responded with all the love that was there in her heart for him. His hands slid over her hips, drawing her closer into the hard curve of his body, and making her aware of his need. Time stood still, there was no past or present, and she locked her arms about is strong neck with the knowledge that the long, eternal night of unhappiness was at last at an end. The future was like the dawning of new day with the promise of better things to come.

  “Shall we start again?” she asked when they both paused a moment to draw breath.

  “I can’t think anything I want more than that,” he smiled, framing her face in his hands, and there was a light in his eyes that made her hold her breath. She wanted to capture that look, and hold it to her heart for ever. “I love you, Liz. I love you better than life itself, and that’s something I never thought I would ever say to a woman,” he whispered against her lips, and it was to her the sweetest music she had ever heard.

  Those long-awaited words soothed away the hurt and the months of suffering as nothing else could have done, and her expression was tremulous with an inner radiance. “I thought I’d never hear you say that you love me.”

  “I swear I’ll spend the rest of my life proving to you just how much I love you,” he said thickly, his hand moulding her to him with a new urgency. “I need you, Liz. I can’t exist without you there to bully me, or scold me, and I know now that the day simply doesn’t begin for me unless I hear your voice and know you’re close enough to touch.”

  “Oh, Grant,” she whispered, tears of happiness hovering on her lashes. “Forgive me for crying, but I’m so happy.”

  Later that night, when they lay in each other’s arms in the darkened bedroom, Grant said: “When Joe and Alan first suggested this short holiday I rejected the idea, but it finally began to appear to me. I thought that, if fate was kind, I would see you somehow and work things out from there.”

  “Instead you found me here the moment you arrived, and you certainly didn’t look very pleased about it,” she accused teasingly.

  “I was stunned, and I was scared out of my wits that I might do or say something that would make you walk out on me.” His hand tightened on her hip.

  “Whose idea was it, anyway?”

  “Mine,” she confessed, turning her face into his shoulder. “Joe came to see me. He was concerned about you, and when he told me that you hadn’t filed for a divorce, I- I hoped there was just a tiny chance that you might care enough to resume our marriage.”

  “I was a fool, a crass idiot,” he growled, “and I’m amazed that you can forgive me when I—”

  She turned his face towards hers and silenced him with a kiss. “I love you, Grant. I always have, and I always will. That’s all there is to it.”

  She kissed him again, but when she would have drawn away his hand went up to the nape of her neck, and he held her there. Their kiss deepened, became passionate and demanding, and she yielded to the touch of his hands. The intimacy of his caresses aroused her and awakened again that achingly familiar need, and once again that night Liz held nothing back, giving as much as she was receiving until she was plunged into that mystical world where only Grant could take her. She was alive again, she was his woman, and he wanted her.

  Liz stood on the terrace of their home and watched the setting sun cast lengthy shadows across the spacious garden which covered more than an acre. Grant had bought this lovely old house on the outskirts of Johannesburg shortly after their return to the city, they had moved in a month later, and now after another three months of planning and hard work, they had turned it into a dream of a home in which they could entertain their friends, or simply relax. Liz was happier than she had ever been, but her eyes were clouded and troubled on that afternoon when she turned from the peaceful scene outside and walked into the house. Grant had warned her that he would be home late that evening. On such evenings he usually had a quick meal at the hospital, so she fixed herself a snack and tried to read for a while, but she found that her concentration was low.

  She wished that Grant would come home, but when the hands of the clock shifted towards nine o’clock she set her book aside and went upstairs. She was in the bath when she finally heard Grant’s Jaguar come up the drive, and she relaxed completely for the first time since that afternoon.

  A few minutes later she heard him entering their bedroom, and his footsteps sounded heavy and tired. When she came out of the bathroom five minutes later she found him sprawled on the bed. He had removed his jacket and tie, his shirt was unbuttoned to the waist, and he had kicked off his shoes.

  “You look as though you’ve had a rough day,” she said, fastening the belt of her silk robe about her waist as she approached the bed and sat down beside him.

  “One of the worst,” he grimaced, his hand slipping beneath the golden veil of her hair to pull her head down until their lips met in a lingering kiss. “How was your day?” he asked when she was allowed to breathe freely again.

  “So- so,” she shrugged casually, her lashes veiling a secretive light which had crept into her eyes. “I messed about in the garden for a while, then I went out shopping, and I paid a visit to that nice old doctor on the third floor of the medical centre.”

  “Liz?” His eyes probed hers questioningly, then his arm was about her waist and
she was pulled across him so that she ended up lying beside him on the bed. He leaned over her, his tiredness apparently forgotten, and there was an incredulous light in his eyes. “You’re pregnant?”

  “For a medical man you’ve been rather obtuse, haven’t you?” she teased, raising a hand to trace the outline of his strong mouth, and he caught her hand in his to nibble sensually at the tip of her finger.

  “I’ve been too busy enjoying my wife to think of anything else.”

  “How does the thought of becoming a father appeal to you?”

  “It appeals to me very much.”

  “Grant…” There was something so erotic about the fiery caress of his tongue against the palm of her hand that she knew she had to say what was on her mind before it was too late. “I bumped into Alan Bishop when I left the medical centre this afternoon, and he told me that- that Myra was back in Johannesburg for a while.”

  “I know,” said grant, taking her hand and pressing it against his warm, hair-roughened chest where she could feel the hard, even beat of his heart beneath her fingers. “I saw her briefly this afternoon.”

  “And?” she prompted, holding her breath.

  “And nothing,” he smiled down at her in that old, twisted manner. “She tried her level best to convince me that what we had together once was something special, and that there was no reason why we couldn’t recapture it, but I’m afraid it didn’t work this time. She’s a very beautiful woman, but I have everything I could ever want right here in my arms, and you’re more precious to me than anything or anyone else in this world.” He caught a teardrop on the tip of his finger before it rolled very far down her cheek. “Why are you crying?”

  “I’m just so terribly happy, that’s all,” she sighed tremulously.

  “Silly girl,” he mocked her gently. “Do you trust me now, and believe that I love you?”

  “I know you love me, and I do trust you, but I- I couldn’t help being a little afraid.”

  Grant’s fingers tugged at her belt, then his hand was beneath her robe, sliding across her flat stomach and upwards to cup the swell of her breast.

  “You won’t be afraid again of losing you, my darling,” she whispered unsteadily, her lips parting beneath his, and her pulse rate quickening to match his.

  She need never fear Myra again, Liz knew that now. She had not doubted Grant, but that niggling fear had always been there that Myra might still have some sort of hold over him. The chains of the past had at last been severed, and warm and secure within her was the product of her love for Grant, and the love which she no longer doubted he had for her.