Love's Tender Warriors

by Radclyffe

  “Good,” Sean said languorously. “I was trying to.”

  Drew laughed shakily. “I could get used to it.”

  “Please do, because I don’t plan on stopping.” Sean pressed her mouth to the pulse rippling through Drew’s neck. “I’ve got a lot of time to make up for.”

  “So do I,” Drew murmured, her voice so low Sean almost didn’t hear her.

  Chapter Fourteen

  One night, a little over a week later, Sean was finishing client notes shortly after 9:00 p.m. when Ellen ended with her last session of the day.

  “There’s beer in the fridge,” Sean called out when she heard Ellen rummaging in the small kitchenette that adjoined their office. “I’m buying.”

  “Thank God you went shopping,” Ellen muttered as she entered carrying two bottles. “Here. I owe you.”

  “Thanks,” Sean said gratefully, taking the offered bottle. She studied Ellen, who sagged into the chair facing the small desk. The redhead still looked worn, but the haunted look in her eyes was gone. “How are you doing?”

  “Better now that Susan and I are back together. These last ten days have been the best we’ve had together in years. We’re still working through what happened, but at least we’re talking about things we should have talked about a long time ago.”

  “You two going to therapy together?”

  “We’ve talked about it.” Ellen grimaced. “Right now, I think Susan has enough to concentrate on with her individual therapy—and so do I. But we agreed we would go in a few months if it seemed like we needed to.”

  “That’s wonderful. I’m really happy for both of you.” Sean leaned back in the desk chair, propping her feet up on a nearby stool. “I’ve missed Susan’s smile. It’s back.”

  “How about you? How are things with Drew?”

  Sean sighed and ran a hand absently through her hair. “I fluctuate between ecstasy and terror. Drew and I have been spending a lot of time together outside of class—”

  “I’ll bet all of it’s in bed.”

  “Not all of it.” Sean blushed. “Although sometimes, I do have to remind myself that there are such things as conversation and food and the like.”

  Ellen laughed.

  “Is that...normal? Wanting her all the time?”

  “Does it feel normal, Dr. Gray?” Ellen tossed back at her.

  Sean shrugged. “Not for me. Not before Drew, at least.”

  “Does it bother you?”

  “No. Actually, it feels...great.”

  “Well, then,” Ellen pronounced, “there’s your answer.”

  “I love being with her more every day. She’s so gentle with me, and she acts as if I’m the most important thing in her life. She’s spoiling me and, God, she’s so—”

  “Wonderful?” Ellen laughed. “I think I got that part.”

  Sean sighed, her expression pensive.

  “What?” Ellen probed. “If you like being with her and the sex is great and you love her...you do love her, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” Sean said immediately. “I do.”

  “Then what’s wrong?”

  “Something is keeping her from being completely with me—except when we make love. That’s the only time she ever really gives herself to me—the only time she lets me touch more than her body.” Sean frowned. “That sounds like a contradiction, doesn’t it?”

  “Not really. Most people can’t maintain control when they make love, if it’s more than sex.”

  “Oh, it’s more than sex,” Sean whispered. “When her defenses are down, she lets herself need me.” She stared at Ellen. “Most of the time, though, it’s almost as if she doesn’t want me to care about her. I want her to need me. Is that so wrong?”

  “No, of course not.” Ellen sat up straight, her beer forgotten. “But Sean, are you sure about how you feel about her? Because what you’re asking for—”

  “I love her. I want her to let me know her, but she keeps a wall between us.”

  “Maybe she thinks she doesn’t deserve you,” Ellen suggested cautiously. She wouldn’t reveal the things Drew had shared with her that morning out on the terrace, but there couldn’t be any harm in dropping a few hints. The two of them so obviously loved each other.

  “She deserves to be loved.” Sean laughed grimly. “And I want to be the one to do it.”

  “It’s going to take time, Sean. She’s not as tough as she seems.”

  “God, I know. She’s emotionally fragile,” Sean agreed, “but she won’t let me help.”

  Ellen was not surprised. She had seen how deeply Drew buried her pain. “If anyone has the patience to stick with her, you do.”

  “I’m trying. But she’s in so much pain, I can hardly stand it.” Sean hesitated and then confided in her friend because she had to tell someone, and she trusted Ellen. “She has terrible dreams. Horrible. She wakes up screaming—screaming—” Sean had to stop for a second while she steadied her voice and pushed the sounds of Drew’s anguish from her mind. “She’s soaked with sweat, disoriented for minutes. It tears my heart out.”

  “Sounds like post-traumatic stress,” Ellen mused out loud.

  “That’s what I think, too, but she won’t tell me about it, and I’m afraid to push her. She’s been hurt so badly by something—or someone—it could just do more damage.” Sean shivered and unconsciously wrapped her arms around herself.

  “Whatever it is, being with you is going to bring it all to the surface.” Ellen regarded Sean solemnly. “Are you ready for that? This can’t be easy when it’s your first serious relationship in years—and the first one with a woman.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “Sean, for crying out loud,” Ellen said in exasperation. “You’re in the midst of a huge metamorphosis in your own personal and sexual identity, changing everything you understand about yourself. Four or five months ago, did you ever imagine you’d be madly in love with a woman?”

  “I never imagined I’d be madly in love with anyone.”

  “You know what I mean. You’re a psychotherapist. You know, better than anyone, that this didn’t just crop up overnight, but still, it’s got to be hard—dealing with so much that’s new on top of her issues, too. It might have been a lot simpler with someone else.”

  “Are you trying to tell me to leave her?” Sean asked angrily. And break my own heart?

  “Hell, no. But she’s probably going to get worse, you know, before she can tell you what’s going on.”

  “I do know, and I don’t care. I just hope I’m strong enough to help if she ever does.”

  Ellen smiled. “I can’t think of anyone better.”

  *

  “You will stay after class to talk, Drew, yes?” Janet Cho asked quietly as she passed Drew, who was jamming her sparring gear into her bag. It was not a question that left room for negotiation.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Drew grunted through clenched teeth. She didn’t look at Sean, who she knew was watching her from inches away.

  Sean, in turn, carefully folded her belt and uniform to pack in her bag, feeling hurt and bewildered. Drew was so clearly angry with her, and she didn’t understand why. She knew something was bothering Drew—it didn’t take a trained psychologist to see that.

  Over the last several weeks, Drew had become increasingly agitated—jumpy and distracted even when they were alone, although Sean could tell she was trying hard to hide it. They’d be in the middle of a conversation, and Drew would fall silent, a distant troubled expression in her eyes. When Sean would gently ask her where she was, Drew would only shake her head with an apologetic smile and say “nowhere”.

  It had started soon after Drew’s return, but somehow Sean had the sense that whatever was bothering her lover wasn’t anything about them. Drew was uncharacteristically short-tempered with everyone in class, too, but most especially, and increasingly, with Sean. Most of the time now, Sean didn’t feel as if she could do anything right.

  Tonight, the tension had pe
aked when Drew halted a sparring match between Sean and Chris after only a few minutes. Chris was compact and quick, and she had managed to hit Sean twice in the face within a matter of a minute. Still, Sean had handled it and was holding her own, maybe even gaining a little, when Drew stopped them cold, criticizing just about everything Sean had done. Finally, Master Cho had stepped in and calmly told Drew to sit down. This was an unprecedented move for someone like Janet, who never interfered with the authority of her senior instructors.

  Sean had been unprepared for the intensity of Drew’s anger—it had felt personal, and it had hurt.

  Maybe Ellen is right. Maybe the honeymoon just ended. God, I thought we’d have more than a month to enjoy finding each other again. But she feels so far away right now.

  Following the rest of the students to the door, Sean bowed and left quietly, not caring that she had not said good-bye to Drew. It was the first time in weeks that they hadn’t stopped after class to have a bite to eat, often lingering over coffee to talk, and ending the evening at Drew’s apartment or spending the night together at Sean’s house. She missed Drew the moment she got into her car and pulled away, but she really didn’t want to see Drew right then, not until her feelings had settled a little.

  Upstairs in the dojang, the atmosphere was subdued. Drew sat on a bench on one side of the room, her back rigid, her face stone.

  “Sean has more than six months before her black belt test, Drew,” Janet said as she sat down a short distance from her friend. “It’s too soon for this kind of pressure.”

  “This isn’t about a belt,” Drew said darkly, staring straight ahead.

  “Then what? You are pushing her very hard. Why? She is a good student; she works hard.”

  “You saw her with Chris tonight. Sean’s already had her nose broken, and Chris scored two solid hits right to her chin.” She could still vividly see Sean’s head snap back from the force of the first blow, and Chris had pulled the punch—it wasn’t even full power. Drew’s stomach clenched even now, remembering. The second time it happened, Drew had flashed on Sean lying on the floor, blood streaming from her broken nose. She shivered.

  “Yes, I saw. So, she has more to learn.” Janet shrugged, unconcerned. “She will learn it.”

  “She needs to learn to protect herself,” Drew exclaimed vehemently. “This isn’t about a philosophy or personal growth. That’s all very well, and I support it. But this has to be more than theory—she has to be able to defend herself.”

  “Why now?” Janet continued unperturbed, ignoring the fact that Drew had very nearly insulted her by dismissing her entire way of life.

  “What?” Drew asked harshly, struggling with a series of images that flashed across her mind. She broke out into a cold sweat. Please, not now. Not while I’m awake, too!

  “Why now, must she accomplish in a few weeks, what you know it takes years to learn? What is the sudden hurry?”

  “Read the newspapers. We don’t have the luxury of spending a lifetime learning self-defense any longer.” Drew struggled desperately with a faint wave of nausea. “Anything could happen—any time.”

  “I see.” Janet Cho nodded, intentionally persisting although she could see Drew’s mounting distress. “So, today you’ll make Sean miserable because tomorrow someone may hurt her?”

  “Yes, if I have to,” Drew stated ferociously.

  “Maybe if you weren’t in love with her, you would not make her so unhappy.”

  Drew reared back as if struck. “What did you say?”

  But she’d heard, and whether intended or not, Janet’s words sent a knife through her heart. That’s my pattern, isn’t it? To hurt the women I love. Oh, Jesus, not Sean, too.

  “You love her. You are afraid something will happen to her, so you ask more of her than she is capable of right now.” Janet shrugged again. “You make her unhappy.”

  Drew’s jaw clenched, and she averted her gaze. At length, she said, “I only want her to be safe.”

  “Of course. Sean and all of them. So do I. But now, it is so much more important, yes? Because you think you could lose her.”

  Drew stifled a moan, losing the battle to keep the nightmare images of loss and betrayal and the brutal finality of death at bay. Turning her back to her old friend, stomach heaving, she then whispered, “I can’t stand it. I can’t take any more.” She bent over, eyes closed, fighting the need to vomit.

  Janet placed her palm lightly on Drew’s quaking back. “Don’t fight so hard. Let the pain come, and then let it go.”

  Face buried in her hands, Drew struggled with a long slow breath, then another, and then another. Slowly, her rebelling body settled. “If something happens to her, I just won’t be able to go on, Janet.” Her voice was a hoarse murmur. “Not again.”

  Janet took Drew’s trembling hand in her own, a gesture so intimate for the reserved woman that Drew glanced at her, astonished.

  “Drew, my friend,” Janet said softly, “we cannot live in fear that tomorrow something may hurt us or someone we love. You will not have time to love her if you worry always that she may go. Love her that much more because she is here today.”

  “What I should do is leave her alone. You said it yourself, I’m making her miserable.” Drew kept her head down, willing the tears not to fall.

  “I did not say you should give up Sean,” Janet replied softly again, placing Drew’s hand gently down on her thigh. “You must give up the past.”

  “I’m trying, …but I am so damn scared that I’ll...that it will happen again.”

  “It is much that you have let love come to you once more. Now, be patient with yourself.”

  *

  Sean sat curled up on the sofa in semi-darkness. The logs burned low in the fireplace, but she didn’t feel the chill. She heard Susan answer the door, but she didn’t look up at the sound of approaching footsteps in the hallway outside the library. She stared unblinking at the guttering flames.

  “It could use some more wood,” the deep voice that never failed to stir her heart remarked.

  Pulse suddenly racing, Sean turned to the tall figure framed in the doorway, merely a slender silhouette cast in shadow by the dim light from the hallway beyond. “Drew.”

  “May I come in?”

  “Of course.”

  Drew let out the breath she’d been holding. She almost hadn’t come; she’d almost convinced herself that she was only destined to make Sean miserable, and that she should leave her before things got even more complicated. But she’d tried that already, and it had so obviously failed. And now that they’d shared so much more, not just passion but also quiet communion and simple pleasures, she didn’t have the strength to say goodbye.

  I did not say you should give up Sean, Janet had said.

  Drew clung to those words as she shed her jacket to a nearby chair on her way to the fireplace. There, she bent to feed several more logs into the fire. After she wiped the dust from her hands on a bandana she pulled from the back pocket of her jeans, she turned to kneel by Sean, taking both Sean’s hands in hers.

  “I’m sorry, Sean,” she said quietly, searching the drawn and unhappy face. “I...lost my temper with you. It shouldn’t have happened.”

  “It’s not like you to lose your temper, especially in class.” Sean’s response was hushed as she circled her thumbs over the tops of Drew’s hands. “Not until recently.” She searched Drew’s eyes and saw only sorrow clouding their blue depths. “Is it something I’ve done?”

  “No, baby. No.” Drew leaned forward, aching to hold her, but she wasn’t sure Sean wanted her to. She felt as if she had a great gaping hole in the center of her chest. “It’s not you.”

  “Then what?”

  “I’ve been worried, and I’ve made you pay for it.” Drew sighed, lowering her head to stare at the floor. “It was selfish of me, and I’m sorry.”

  “Worried?” Sean was always alert to the hidden meanings behind the phrases. This was the first time that Drew had admitte
d even this much. She put her feet on the floor on either side of the kneeling woman and leaned forward, freeing one hand to run her fingers through the thick blond hair. Drew shivered, and Sean’s stomach clenched at the subtle response. She moved her hand away, because her own automatic surge of arousal was too distracting. Gently, she probed, “Worried about what?”

  “Since we’ve been seeing each other, I’ve gotten anxious—you know—I don’t want you to get hurt.” Drew shrugged, her voice pitched low, almost a whisper. “I’ve been pushing you too hard. Really, you’re doing fine.” An edge of desperation had crept into her voice.

  “Drew,” Sean said carefully, “why are you worried that I might get hurt?”

  A muscle along the edge of Drew’s jaw twitched. “People do sometimes get hurt.”

  “Come sit beside me,” Sean said gently, patting the leather sofa.

  When Drew settled by her side, Sean slid one arm around her lover’s waist and leaned into her, tilting her head so she could watch Drew’s face.

  “Does this have something to do with your dreams?” Sean tightened her hold as she spoke, and, as she expected, Drew flinched and tried to pull away.

  “No.”

  “Look at me. Come on, tough guy.” She waited until the troubled blue eyes met hers. “I love you, Drew. Absolutely—no reservations.”

  Drew caught her breath, her hand finding Sean’s and gripping it hard. The words echoed in her mind, in her memory, in her dreams. I love you, Drew. I love you...I love you...I lo—

  “Oh, God,” Drew moaned softly. “I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s okay, sweetheart,” Seam murmured, holding on even tighter. “But you’ve got to tell me.”

  “I can’t...”

  “Whatever you think you can’t tell me is keeping us apart more certainly than anything you could ever say. Don’t do this to us, Drew. Please.”

  I can’t. I can’t tell you what I did...God, what I did. Drew dropped her gaze, but she did not let go of Sean’s hand. In fact, she clutched it tighter. “Please, baby...”