by Lia Lee
Tears burned at his eyes, and he swiped them away angrily. Marnie, in one gloriously unguarded moment, had said that she loved him. Fool that he was, he hadn't said it back to her. Now Philip wondered if it would have made a difference. If she knew that he suffered at the idea of being together but legally apart as well, would she have changed her mind?
Philip knew it didn't matter.
One of the things that he had always respected about Marnie was the fact that she was incredibly decisive. She knew her own mind, and she knew what she could and could not stand. If she could not stand the arrangement that he had proposed, she would not agree to it, no matter how much she loved him.
Finally, Philip collapsed on a small armchair, the last bit of undamaged furniture in his room. With a nearly careless gesture, he dialed his mother.
"Philip! You got the message! What are you doing? What's happening there—?"
"I'm fine, mother," he said hollowly. "I'm coming home. I'm getting married. I am done with this."
To his surprise, his mother didn't crow over her victory like his father might have done. Instead, there was a silence at the end of the line as she considered what must have changed to make him sound like that.
"It will be for the best, you will see," she said. "Ever since you were born, I have known that you have a grand destiny in front of you. Now that you are willing to submit to it, there is no end to the good you can do."
He knew what she was talking about. Navarra was a wealthy country, one that had a great deal of influence throughout the world. Both at home and abroad, there were many different social goods he could do.
When he thought about doing good and taking care of things, however, what he thought of was a dark-haired girl with black eyes, glancing up at him as he looked down at the paints. He thought about her solemnly taking his hand and making sure that he knew how to draw. Then he saw her flying towards him, her hands full of paint and her eyes full of laughter.
That was the good he wanted to do. With Victoria and Marnie gone, however, it felt like there was nothing else worth his time. He knew that wasn't true. He had a life before them, and he would have a life after.
He just wasn't sure that it was a life worth having.
CHAPTER SIX
The next day Marnie woke up to a deep throbbing in her head and a feeling as if her heart had been ripped to pieces and then put back together. For one happy moment, she thought she was sick and wondered if Philip would lie down with her a little longer. Then she woke up a little more and wished that she hadn't.
The problem with being a mother, she thought, was that life wouldn't ever really pause for her pain.
Even if she felt as if she wanted to lie down and never wake up again, she still had to go rouse Victoria from a dead sleep and get her ready for school. She had to cook breakfast, check her emails from her editor, and look into the summer programs that were being offered in the district. When she saw that they offered ballet and a few art classes, she winced. They would be adequate, and regardless Victoria would love them, but from an adult's perspective, she knew that they would be nowhere near as good as what Philip could provide.
Now that she had slept, Marnie realized that she wasn't angry anymore, not really. She could have tried to hang on to the rage, because at least it was better than feeling sad, but she knew it wasn't real anymore. She wasn't angry at Philip for not being the man or the relationship she needed, but she was sad about it. She was in pain, and she had to remember that that was what it really was. Otherwise, she risked it turning into a dark spot inside her, one that could grow to poison everything else around it.
"Mama, mama, look."
She looked down from making eggs to see Victoria holding up a picture. With a sinking heart, Marnie saw that it showed three figures, one tall, one medium sized, and one small. All three had dark, dark hair that Victoria had obviously created from pressing very hard on her black crayon, and while two of the figures had black eyes, the medium one had blue eyes like her own.
"It's a present for Philip," Victoria declared. "I made it for him so he can see how important he is."
She had done the same thing for Cassie and some of their other family friends, but she had never drawn them with herself and Marnie before. Any hope that Marnie had had about simply letting things go away on their own withered.
"Victoria, will you go sit down please? I'm just finishing up breakfast."
Victoria frowned. "I wasn't done showing you my picture yet," she protested.
"Victoria, now," Marnie said sternly.
With a wounded look, Victoria went to sit at the table, but the picture was left pointed next to her on the table. It was clear that she wished to tell her mother more about the picture, but Marnie didn't think that she could deal with that.
It's just like a Band-Aid, she thought. It is way better to simply rip it off, cry it out, and then get back to business …
"Victoria, that is a very nice picture, but I have to tell you something," she said as she brought their plates to the table.
Victoria, who had always been exquisitely sensitive when it came to her mother's feelings, began to look anxious before anything had even been said.
"What is it? What's the matter?"
"Philip is a very good friend of ours, but … but he won't be coming around for a while, okay?"
To Marnie's dismay, Victoria's dark eyes went wide. "Why?" she asked, her voice as high as a wounded bird's. "Why? What did I do?"
Marnie gasped as if someone had punched her in the throat. "Nothing! Nothing, sweetie, I swear to you! This isn't a punishment or anything like that, I promise! You did nothing wrong!"
"If I didn't do anything wrong, why did he leave?" Victoria demanded.
Marnie bit her lip. She could feel the world shifting underneath her. Victoria was young, but she wasn't too young to simply let some traumas go. Her heart ached for her daughter needing to learn this lesson so soon.
"He left because adults sometimes need to leave, sweetheart," she said as gently as she could. "It's just something that happens …"
"Does Philip not like us anymore?" she asked in a small voice, and Marnie reached over and hugged her small daughter tight.
"No, sweetie, I promise, he likes us very much. He just … can't be around anymore."
Marnie wasn't sure what it was that finally broke through to her daughter, but after that, great fat tears started to roll down Victoria's face. She sobbed soundlessly and laid her forehead down on the table. All Marnie could do was comfort her daughter as she seemed to cry out far more tears than her small body could hold.
Throughout Victoria's grief, Marnie's own heart was crying as well. Finally, though, she had to draw back, and even Victoria's tears dried up, though she still looked red-eyed and pale when her mother stood up.
"It's okay to feel sad when someone leaves," Marnie said. "Even if it's only for a little while or if you are going to see them again. But we still have things to do and work, okay? Go on and get ready for school."
For a moment, Victoria looked as if she would simply continue sitting at the table, but then with a tiny nod, she stood up to get dressed. While she was teeth-grindingly slow, she did manage to get ready for the group that would walk her to school.
She's tough, she'll be fine, Marnie thought. So will I.
Or at least, that was what she thought until the school called.
***
At the hospital later that day, the doctor explained it to her, but despite his kind words, Marnie could only think that her daughter had sickened with grief.
"Well, children can be both incredibly tough and unbelievably delicate at the same time," he said. "If she had an emotional upset, illness that was held at bay could definitely get a foothold."
"But she'll be all right, right?" asked Marnie. "I mean, she'll heal up? I can take her home?"
The fact that the doctor didn't tell her yes right away made her nerves dance.
"We'd like to keep her
overnight for observation. We'll see how things look in the morning."
With that, the doctor was called away, and Marnie was left alone in the hospital hallway. They had given Victoria a sedative to help her rest and heal, and Marnie went in to sit next to her. Her beloved beautiful daughter looked so pale and still that it felt as if her own heart had stopped.
"I'm so sorry, baby. I'm so sorry …"
She held her daughter's hand with one hand, while with the other she sent a text.
Please. Come.
***
Philip arrived at the hospital in less than half an hour, an impressive feat given the fact that he was at the airport. When the text came, he had had his pilot dock the plane again, and called for a cab that got him to the hospital as quickly as it was possible to cut through Manhattan.
He found the room after a number of frustrating directions, and he didn't start to relax until he opened the door and found Marnie inside, sitting next to a painfully still Victoria.
"Marnie, what happened?"
Marnie didn't look at him as she explained what had occurred. She kept her eyes on Victoria's face as she told him what the doctor said. Victoria would likely be fine, but just in case they wanted to keep her under observation for the evening. She could probably go home tomorrow. She didn't need to tell him about her fears. He understood all too well as he sat on Victoria's other side, holding her hand.
Once, her eyelids, as fragile as eggshells fluttered, and he thought she looked at him. Then the sedatives took over again, and she was pulled down into a deep sleep.
"Excuse me, but visiting hours are over, and you'll have to leave," the nurse said, and Philip's heart ached at how alarmed Marnie looked.
"Can't I just stay?" she pleaded. "I'll be quiet, I won't even need a bed …"
"I'm very sorry, but hospital rules prevent it unless the patient is more severely affected. You can come back at seven sharp tomorrow."
When it was clear that no amount of cajoling would change the nurse's mind, Marnie seemed to collapse into herself. She allowed Philip to take her by the elbow and guide her out of the hospital. Philip thought that perhaps he should have held back, been more circumspect with a woman who had so recently decided that there was no way they could be together.
Then he saw how helpless and lost she looked, and he knew that he had to help. "Can I take you home?" he asked. "What can I do to help you?"
Marnie looked up at him, focusing on him for what felt like the first time since he had come to the hospital. For a moment, he thought that she would brush him off, but then she took his hand, holding it tightly.
"Please," she said. It was all, but it was enough.
Philip wondered if he was only hurting himself in the long run, but in the end, this was Marnie, and he had loved her for years. He guided her into the cab, and then down the hallway to her apartment. When they were alone, he settled her down on the couch, leaving her alone only long enough to brew her up some tea, hot, sweet, and ferociously strong.
"I want to help," he said softly, coming to sit by her. "I … I don't know what you will allow me to do. At the end of the day, she is your daughter and you know her needs best. But, anything she needs is hers. I know that you can help her, but I have money, I can talk to doctors …"
"They say she will be fine," Marnie said finally. "They say it was just a touch of the flu that got out of hand. She got … so upset when she realized you were gone. The teacher said that she just started crying and couldn't seem to stop until she keeled over. This time, she was fine."
Philip frowned, not liking the sound of that. "This time? Marnie, what do you—?"
She didn't wait for him to get the words out of his mouth. Instead, moving faster and with more confidence than he had seen her use since he arrived, she twisted in the couch towards him, wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled him in for a deep kiss. For just a few minutes, he fell into the kiss, because it was Marnie, and every piece of him craved her. He craved the feel of her, the sweetness of her lips, the warmth of her body, the small whimpering sounds she made as she deepened the kiss even further.
It was sweet, unbelievably so, but then Philip forced himself to pull back. He had never in his life taken advantage of a woman. He would die before he did so. Right now, he was not at all certain that this was what Marnie truly wished.
"Marnie … Marnie, please, talk to me. You've had an incredibly long and rough day. Everything's going to be fine, you know? It's going to be fine, Victoria will be fine …"
Marnie shook her head. "This isn't about Victoria," she said, her voice rough. "Right now, Victoria is with the people who can help her most. It hurts that it isn't me, but that's okay. I understand it. This is about me. This is about us, and what we are to each other and what we can be …"
"Marnie …"
"Touch me," she whispered, looking up at him. Her eyes made him think of deep lakes of purest blue, so cold and clear that you could see her thoughts swimming by. "Please. Kiss me. Make love to me. I need to feel something else now. Please, Philip …"
He was a strong man, but he knew that he couldn't resist her. He never could, if he was honest with himself. He hesitated for a moment longer, and then with the clamor of his body and his heart overwhelming everything else, he gave in and began to kiss her.
***
Marnie had felt outside of herself ever since the doctor told her that Victoria would be fine. She felt as if she were floating, as if she were unreal, and the only thing that made her feel better was when she touched Philip. When he took her by the arm to guide her into the cab, she started to wake up, and what had woken up inside her was a hunger for Philip that could never be sated.
She looked at him in her little apartment, and she came to two decisions. The first was too big, too painful for her to even look at fully right then and there. She would have to deal with it later, and possibly for the rest of her life. The second was that she needed to touch him.
Their kiss started out slow and sweet, but then it felt as if there was no room for anything in the world except for them. She felt him fumble with her clothes, and she squirmed to get out of the dress that suddenly felt too tight, too confining by far. When she was naked, he paused to kiss her bare skin, but she wouldn't have it. She needed him naked as well, and she didn't stop until he rose to remove his clothes with raw, quick motions. The moment he was unclothed, she reached for him again, lying down on the couch and dragging him on top of her.
"Marnie, Marnie, you promise me that this is all right? This is what you want?"
"Yes," she said, and there had never been a more truer statement in the history of the world. This moment, this man, this was what she had always wanted.
His mouth crashed down on hers, and their tongues tangled together, fighting for a dominance that they both craved. She could feel his body, so different from hers, heavy and rough with hair and utterly delicious, pressing down on her, she could feel how hard he was in comparison to her own softness. His cock was already hard and straining, pressed against her thigh.
With a muttered curse, Marnie reached down between their bodies to wrap her fingers around his length, making him groan with need.
"I … I won't last long if you keep that up," he growled, and she shot him a bright look.
"I don't need it to last long," she murmured, her voice harsh with need. "I need you. I need it fast. I need it hard, please, Philip …"
He groaned, burying his face in her neck as he trembled. She knew that he was on the verge of breaking, and that's what she wanted. She wanted him as undone by desire as she was, as infected with the wildfire of need as much as she was.
She whispered in his ear, her lips touching this lobe, and she told him of everything she wanted him to do to her, everything she would do for him. She was a writer, after all, and words had always been her weapon, her salvation. She told him about what she wanted to do with her tongue and her teeth, and how wet she was for him.
"I ne
ed you," she said. "Like I need to breathe. I want you, I crave you, I need you inside me, Philip, please …"
With a barely muffled roar, he kneed her legs apart and then threw them over his shoulders. His hands cupped her bare rear, bringing her body up even as he plunged down into her. He filled her with a single stroke, the heat between them as liquid and quick as fire. His strong hands held her steady as he pushed into her again and again, and she reached back to hold on to the arm of the couch as he took her.
Her pleasure was mixed with the intensity of her emotions. She felt as if she was the center of a storm, the one place where all that power would come together. The tension inside her rose and rose, but then he pulled one hand away, bringing it forward to rest at the top of her wet slit.
"Philip—"
"Goddamn it, Marnie, I will not burn alone …"
His rough words made the heat inside her blaze up higher and hotter, and then his fingers were sliding against the sensitive flesh of her clit. Suddenly, she wasn't in control of her own limbs. She was shaking, crying out over and over again as her climax crashed down on her. Even as she was shaking with need and pleasure, he kept his fingers there, letting her ride it out until she went limp.
Only then did he pick up his tempo, crashing into her like a wave on the shore. She felt the power of his need for her, and she clung to him, as if he were the only safe port in a storm of her own making. When he froze, spilling inside her, she closed her eyes, giving herself up entirely to the ecstasy of being with him.
I love you, she thought. I love you so much …
***
"I want you to take her." Marnie said softly.
He stirred a little, groggy and too tired to understand what she was saying at first. "What?"
"I want … I want her to have everything that you promised her. All of the best. The best doctors, the best schools. I learned today that no matter how careful I am, no matter how much care I take … Philip I can't protect her, and I know that you can."
She lay on her side, her back to him. He could tell, though, from the tremor of her voice, that she was crying.