I lay against Aaron’s chest, listening to him breathe, and attempted to maintain the tight control he’d taught me. It was difficult when all I wanted to do was bite his neck and fuck him.
“If it makes you feel more secure, change things around a bit. That is if you wish to tell others what happened,” he murmured. “I have to. I have to share deMonde and Matthew’s story -- your story -- even if no one believes it. Maybe I’ll pass it off as fiction. My agent has been bugging me to write something longer than articles for magazines. Maybe he can sell this. Who would ever accept any of this as truth?”
“Kazvan?”
I started. Kazvan’s name was never mentioned between us.
“Do you think he’s still alive?” I asked, dreading his answer. “The last time I saw him, he still breathed, though his injuries were severe. I did leave him a small amount of the alukah. I never saw him after that. If he lives, he’s never contacted me, and he’s had ample opportunity. He wouldn’t hide behind a false identity. He would want me to know he’d found me. His ego wouldn’t permit anything else. Perhaps he learned to accept himself and found his way back to God. I hope so. At the end, I felt more pity for him than anything else.”
I grasped Aaron’s hand.
“As long as he leaves us alone, then I’ll share your pity for him, but nothing else.”
“Mon amor, everything else I have is yours.”
* * * * *
I’ve decided to do as Aaron suggested, and with the necessary alterations, send our story to my agent as a paranormal novel of the Civil War titled The Vigilant Soldier Now that Aaron and I are together, there will be no more need for midnight visits at Matthew’s grave. We can show our love and respect for this brave man unafraid in the light of day.
Garrickstown, Pennsylvania
September 29th on the eve of the Jewish New Year
Jeanne Barrack
I'm a native New Yorker, born and bred in Brooklyn, married for thirty-odd years (and they have been odd) to my high school sweetheart. Is it any wonder I became a romance novelist? I now live on a mountain top in rural Pennsylvania.
Although we haven't been blessed with children, we've had the pitter-patter of little Tibetan Terriers paws throughout our married life. Tibetan Terriers are called the "good luck" dog and they have been for us.
I play guitar and studied voice privately with a coach from Juilliard. I sing everything from folk music to Grand Opera - in ten languages including Gaelic and Hebrew. My day job involves music therapy for seniors. Over the course of many years I have been inspired and astonished by the wealth of knowledge and experience of the elderly. Imagine meeting a survivor of the sinking of the Titanic and someone who actually knew Tyrone Power!
The Sweet Flag Page 10