The Contract

by Melanie Moreland

Her entire body shuddered, and unable to take her intensifying pain, I stood, lifted her, sitting back down before she could protest. She still clutched Penny’s hand, and I could feel her trembling.

  “Let me help, sweetheart. Graham is here, too. We’ll figure out what we need to do.”

  Her head fell to my chest, and I felt the wet of her tears. I pressed a kiss to her head, holding her until I felt her body relax and she released Penny’s hand, gently letting it rest on the quilt. We sat in silence as I stroked my hand up and down her back.

  There was a knock at the door, and I called out for them to enter. Graham came in, crouching beside us.

  “Katy, dear girl, I am so sorry.”

  Her voice was a mere whisper. “Thank you.”

  “Laura is here. We would like to help you and Richard with the arrangements, if you are willing.”

  She nodded, another shiver running down her spine.

  “I think I need to take her home.”

  Graham stood up. “Of course.”

  I bent my head lower. “Are you ready, sweetheart? Or do you want to stay longer?”

  She looked up at Graham, her lips quivering. “What is going to happen?”

  “My friend, Conrad, will come pick her up. According to Richard, she wanted to be cremated?”

  “Yes.”

  “He will arrange everything, and we can discuss what sort of service you would like.”

  “I want to celebrate her life.”

  “We can do that.”

  “What about”—she swallowed—“her things?”

  “I’ll arrange to have everything packed up and brought to the condo, sweetheart,” I assured her. “Tami said Joey was staying here?”

  “The other residents like him—they’ll look after him. I’d like to donate some of her things to the residents who don’t have as much as she did—her clothes and wheelchair, things like that.”

  “Okay, I’ll make the arrangements. When you’re ready you can go through everything, and I’ll make sure it happens.”

  She was silent, looking at Penny. She nodded. “Okay.”

  I stood up, taking her with me. I didn’t like the trembling in her body or the shakiness in her voice. I felt better holding her, and she didn’t protest.

  I looked down at Penny, saying my own silent thank you and goodbye. Feeling the burn of emotion in my eyes, I blinked it away. I had to stay strong for Katharine.

  “I’ll get the car,” Graham offered, and left the room.

  I met Katharine’s gaze, her eyes wide with pain and sadness. A rush of overwhelming tenderness ran through me, and the need to ease her hurt filled my entire being.

  I pressed my lips to her forehead, murmuring against her skin. “I’ve got you. We’ll get through this together. I promise.”

  She leaned in to my caress, her quiet need touching.

  “Are you ready?”

  Nodding, she buried her head into my chest, tightening her grip on my jacket.

  I strode from the room, knowing both our lives were about to change.

  Once again, I had no idea how to cope with it.

  RICHARD

  THE CONDO WAS QUIET. KATHARINE, after another night of silence, had gone to bed. She hadn’t eaten much dinner, barely sipped her wine, and answered my questions with small hums or shakes of her head. I heard her moving around upstairs, the sound of drawers opening and closing, and I knew she was probably rearranging and organizing. She did that when she was upset.

  Worry ate away at my nerves; it was something I’d never experienced. I wasn’t used to caring about anyone. I wondered how to help her to feel better, how to help her talk. She needed to talk.

  The memorial had been small but special. Since Laura and Graham handled most of the arrangements, it wasn’t surprising. Laura sat with Katharine and helped her pick out some photos, which they placed around the room. Her favorite one of Penny they positioned by the urn that was decorated with wildflowers. There were flowers sent by different people, the largest arrangement came from Katharine and myself. All of Penny’s favorites filled the vase beside her picture; the majority of the flowers were daisies.

  Most of the staff from The Gavin Group came to pay their respects. I stood by Katharine, my arm wrapped around her waist, holding her rigid body close to mine, in silent support. I shook hands, accepting the murmured words of condolences; aware of the way her figure shook at times. Some care workers and staff from Golden Oaks attended, and Katharine accepted their hugs and whispered words of shared grief, then always stepped back beside me, as if seeking the shelter of my embrace. There were few of Penny’s friends left to attend—those who did, Katharine gave preferential treatment. She crouched low to speak in hushed tones to those in wheelchairs, made sure the ones with walkers were escorted to a seat quickly, and after the brief ceremony, spent time with them all.

  I kept my eye on her and stayed close, worried over the lack of tears and the constant shake of her hands. I had never experienced grief until that day. When my parents died, I had felt nothing except relief after all they put me through. I had been sad when Nana left the house, but it was the sadness of a child. The pain I felt for Penny was a scorching ache in my chest. It welled and spilled over in the strangest of ways. Unshed tears burned in my eyes when I least expected them. When the boxes containing her possessions arrived, I had to stay in the storage room, overcome with an emotion I couldn’t explain. I found myself thinking of our talks, the way her eyes would light up when I mentioned Katharine’s name. Her sweet, funny stories of their life together. My calendar still showed all my Tuesday evenings blocked out with the name Penny across them. Somehow, I couldn’t bring myself to erase them yet. On top of the already strange emotions I felt was the concern for my wife.

  I thought she was handling everything. I knew she was grieving the loss of the woman she loved like a mother, yet she had been calm. Steady. She had cried once, but I hadn’t seen her weep since the day Penny passed. Since the memorial earlier today, she had shut down. She had gone out for a walk, silently shaking her head at my offer to accompany her. When she returned, she went straight to her room until I went to get her to eat dinner.

  Now, with my limited knowledge of helping other people, I was at a loss. It wasn’t as if I could call Jenna or Graham and ask them what I should do for my own wife. They thought we were close and would assume I would know exactly what to do. Today, when we left the funeral home, Jenna had hugged me and whispered, “Take care of her.” I wanted to, but I didn’t know how. I had no experience with such intense emotions.

  I paced the living room and kitchen, restlessly prowling the floor, sipping my wine. I knew I could go and work out to relieve some of my tension, except I wasn’t in the mood. Somehow, the gym seemed too far away from Katharine, and in case she needed me, I wanted to be close.

  I sat down on the sofa, and the plump cushion beside me made me smile. Another one of Katharine’s touches. Silky blankets, downy pillows, warm colors on the walls and the artwork she had added, made the condo feel like home. I paused as I lifted my glass. Had I ever told her I liked what she did?

  With a groan, I drained my wine, setting down the glass on the table. Bending forward, I clutched my hair, tugging on it until it was painful. I had improved over the past weeks, of that I was certain, but had I changed enough? I knew my tongue wasn’t as sharp. I knew I’d been a better person. Even so, I wasn’t sure if it was sufficient. If she was struggling, did she trust me enough to turn to me?

  I was shocked to realize how much I wanted that. I wanted to be her rock. To be the person she could depend on. I knew I had come to rely on her—for many things in my life.

  Giving up, I snapped off the lights and went to my room. I changed into my sleep pants and walked over to the bed, hesitating, then left my room. I went to her door, not surprised to see it partially open. How my “night noises,” as she politely called them, brought her comfort, I didn’t understand, but ever since the day she admitted nee
ding them, I never shut it at night.

  For a moment, I felt odd standing outside her door, unsure why I was there. Until I heard it. The sound of muffled weeping. Without another thought, I slipped in her room. Her blind was open, the moonlight spilling in her window. She was curled in a ball, crying. Her body shook so hard with the force of her sobs, I could see the bed moving. Lifting the blanket, I slipped my arms around her, holding her close and carrying her to my room. Cradling her, I lowered us to the bed, tucking the covers around us. She stiffened, but I held her tight.

  “Let it out, Katharine. You’ll feel better, sweetheart.”

  She melted into me, her body molded to mine. Her hands clutched at my bare shoulders, her tears hot on my skin as she wept uncontrollably. I stroked my hand over her back, my fingers through her hair, and made, what I hoped were, comforting noises. Despite the reason, I liked having her close. I missed her softness melded to my hardness. She fit to me so well.

  Eventually, her sobs began to taper, the terrible shudders easing from her frame. I leaned over, grabbing some tissues and pressing a bunch into her hand.

  “I–I’m s–sorry,” she stuttered in a whisper.

  “You have nothing to be sorry for, sweetheart.”

  “I disturbed you.”

  “No, you didn’t. I want to help you. I keep telling you—anything you need, all you have to do is ask.” I hesitated. “I’m your husband. It’s my job to help you.”

  “You’ve been so nice. Kind, even.”

  I winced a little at the shock in her voice. I knew I deserved it, but I still didn’t like it.

  “I’m trying to be better.”

  She shifted a little, tilting up her head to study me. “Why?”

  “You deserve it, and you just lost someone you love. You’re grieving. I want to help you. I don’t know how, though. I’m new to all of this, Katy.” Using my thumb, I gently wiped away the fresh tears leaking from the corner of her eyes.

  “You called me Katy.”

  “I guess it rubbed off. Penny called you that all the time. So does everyone else.”

  “She liked you.”

  My throat felt strangely thick as I studied her face in the pale light from the window. “I liked her,” I stated, quiet but honest. “She was a wonderful woman.”

  “I know.”

  “I know you’ll miss her, sweetheart, but . . .” I didn’t want to say the same platitudes I’d heard uttered to her over the past few days. “She would have hated being a burden to you.”

  “She wasn’t!”

  “She would have argued with you. You worked hard to make her feel safe. You sacrificed so much.”

  “She did the same for me. She always put me first.” She shuddered. “I–I don’t know where I’d be today if it hadn’t been for her finding me and taking me in.”

  I didn’t want to think about that either. Penny’s actions had affected both our lives—for the better.

  “She did it because she loved you.”

  “I loved her.”

  “I know.” I cupped her face, staring into her pain-filled eyes. “You loved her so much you married a total asshole who treated you like shit so you could make sure she was looked after properly.”

  “You stopped being a total asshole a few weeks ago.”

  I shook my head. “I should never have been an asshole to you at all.” To my shock, I felt tears gather in my eyes. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

  “You miss her, too.”

  Unable to speak, I nodded.

  She pulled me down, my head resting in the crook of her neck. I couldn’t remember the last time I cried—most likely when I was a child—but I cried now. I cried for the loss of a woman I only knew for a brief time, yet came to mean so much to me. Who, with her stories and fractured memories, brought to life the woman I was married to—her words showed me Katy’s goodness and light.

  She and Katy showed me it was okay to feel, to trust . . . and to love.

  Because, in that one moment, I knew I was in love with my wife.

  I yanked Katy to me, holding her tight. When my tears dried, I lifted my head, meeting her gentle gaze. The air between us changed from one of comfort and care to something charged and alive.

  The lust and longing I had denied myself ignited. My body burned for the woman I was holding, and Katy’s eyes widened, the same desire flaring in their vivid blue color.

  Giving her the chance to say no, I lowered my head, pausing over her quivering lips.

  “Please?” I whispered, not certain what I was asking.

  Her feather-soft whimper was all I needed, and my mouth met hers with a hunger I had never experienced.

  It wasn’t only lust and desire. It was need and longing. It was redemption and forgiveness. All of it wrapped up in one tiny woman.

  It was like being reborn in a fiery burst of flames that licked and snapped at my spine. Every single nerve hummed in my body. I could feel every inch of her pressed to me; every curve fit to me as if she were made for me and me alone. Her tongue was like velvet against mine, her breath like gusts of pure life filling my lungs. I couldn’t get close enough. I couldn’t kiss her deep enough. Her ridiculous nightshirt vanished under my fists, the material ripping easily. I had to touch her skin. I needed to feel all of her. Using her feet, she pushed down my pants; my erection released, trapped between us. We both groaned as our skin met. Soft, smooth skin, rubbed my rougher, harder body.

  She was like cream—fluid and sweet, wrapping around me. Using my hands and tongue, I discovered her everywhere. The dips and hollows hidden from the world were now mine to explore. I feasted on her taste, each discovery new and exotic. Her breasts were full and lush in my hands, her nipples pert and sensitive. She moaned as I tongued them to stiff peaks, tugging on them gently with my teeth. She squirmed and whimpered as I drifted lower, swirling my tongue on her stomach, down to her tiny belly button, and beyond, until I found her, wet and ready for me.

  “Richard,” she gasped. The word was static and frantic as I closed my mouth around her and tasted her sweetness. Her body bowed, arching and stretching as I explored, using my tongue to delve and tease. She buried her hand in my hair, pushing me closer and tugging me back as I built a rhythm. Her moans and whimpers were like music to my ears. I slid a finger, then two, inside, stroking her deeply.

  “God, sweetheart, you’re so tight,” I moaned into her heat.

  “I’ve . . . I’ve never been with a man.”

  I stilled, lifted my head, her words sinking in. She was a virgin. I needed to remember that, to be gentle with her and treat her with respect. That she would bestow that gift to me, of all people, made me ache with emotions I couldn’t identify. I shouldn’t be surprised, yet, as always, she continued to confound me.

  “Don’t stop,” she pleaded.

  “Katy—”

  “I want this, Richard, with you. I want you.”

  I crawled up her body, cradling her head; kissing her mouth with a reverence I had never felt or shown another person. “Are you sure?”

  She drew me back to her mouth. “Yes.”

  I moved over her carefully; I wanted to make her first time memorable. To show her with my body what I was experiencing with my soul.

  To make her mine in every sense of the word.

  I worshipped her with my touch, keeping it light and gentle, her skin like silk under my hands. Loving her with my mouth, I learned every part of her in the most intimate ways, memorizing her taste and the feel of her. I stroked her passion with my own until she was pleading for me.

  I groaned and hissed as she became bolder, touching and discovering me with her teasing lips and tender hands. Her name fell like a prayer from my mouth as her fingers stroked my shoulders, down my spine, then encased my cock. Finally, I hovered over her, covering her with my body, sinking deep into her tight warmth, holding her until she begged me to move, and then, and only then, did I let my passion fly. I thrust powerfully, driving into her over and agai
n. I kissed her hard as I took her, needing her taste in my mouth as much as I needed her body wrapped around me. Katy held me tight, groaning my name, her fingers digging into my back as she grasped me hard.

  “Oh, God, Richard, please. Oh, I need . . .”

  “Tell me,” I urged. “Tell me what you need.”

  “You . . . more . . . please!”

  “I’ve got you, baby.” I moaned, pushing her leg higher and sinking deeper. “Only me. You’re only ever going to have me.”

  She cried out, her head flung back, body tensing. She was beautiful in her release, her neck stretched taut, a slight sheen of sweat on her skin. My own orgasm flickered, and I buried my face in Katy’s neck as the force of my pleasure rocked my world. I turned my head, grabbed her chin, bringing her mouth to mine, kissing her as the shockwaves rippled then calmed in my body. I rolled, tugging her to my chest, nuzzling her hair. She sighed, burrowing close.

  “Thank you,” she breathed out.

  “Trust me, sweetheart. The pleasure was all mine.”

  “Well, not all yours.”

  I chuckled against her head, pressing a kiss to her warm skin.

  “Sleep, Katy.”

  “I should go—”

  I tightened my arms, not wanting her to leave. “No. Stay here with me.”

  She sighed, her body giving a long, slow shudder.

  “Front or back?” I murmured. She liked to sleep with her back pressed to my chest. I liked waking up with my face buried in her warm neck and her body connected to mine.

  “Back.”

  “Okay.” I loosened my arms so she could roll over. Bringing her back to me, I kissed her gently. “Go to sleep. We have a lot to talk about tomorrow.”

  “I—”

  “Tomorrow. We’ll figure out the next step tomorrow.”

  “Okay.”

  I shut my eyes, breathing her in. Tomorrow I would tell her everything. Ask her to tell me what she was thinking. I wanted to tell her what I was feeling—that I was in love with her. Clear the air for both of us. Then help her move her things into my room, making it our room.

  I didn’t want to be without her beside me again.