Time's Forbidden Flower (35 page)

Sliding down my torso, his kiss nestles into my stomach. “This is where I laid my head when you were pregnant with Antonia. For a moment I let myself believe we had achieved the unthinkable, only to learn later that we were bestowed a gift.” Skating up to face me, his eyes draw me into an abyss of tenderness. “We still have so much life ahead of us. Let’s enjoy it to the fullest.”

His consuming love sweeps me up and takes my heart heavenward as our lips meet. The glow emanating through the crack in the curtains glimmers upon Donovan's crown in a near angelic halo, making him appear as a deity above. Everything he does pleases me, whether it’s the gentle nibble on my ear that etches paths of fire down my spine or his little sighs of pleasure that make me dizzy. Not a single bit of my being fails to cave to his very breath.

God, how I have missed him—how I have craved his caress.
 
Seeing him like this, his chiseled body bare and feeling like velvet in my arms, makes me weak. His touch, his eyes, his fragrance—they all enrapture and consume me. No one can govern me like Donovan.

He wraps me in his embrace, our legs entwining like vines. I become a blooming morning glory as he sinks into me at a deliciously slow pace. Again we transcend time and become one—the way we are meant to be.

My head rolls back in ecstasy at his touch. Feelings of love and longing overwhelm our souls, fueling our passion. How many times have our embraces been restrained? How often have we unjustly muted our words? The feeling of a soul mate inside you is like that of no other. With him I find completeness—in my mind, in my soul, and in my body—like an extension of me once removed is fused into place. He belongs right here, completing my void, electrifying my soul, and searing our duality into one.

Donovan’s passion is unrushed, unrestrained—causing me to tighten around him quickly. When my eyes meet his, I’m transported back to our first time like this, when I looked into the eyes of my best friend, my lover, my soul mate, and the man I love so deeply it pains my soul. Just like before, it is there that my heart and gaze cannot leave until we share the greatest physical pleasure of all.
 

The product of his desires burns inside me, and the currents of my pleasure feel like an undertow, pulling his soul deeper into my vortex. Collapsing into each other’s arms we surrender to the mercy of our fate.

Tucked into a booth in the far corner of the ship’s dining room, Donovan and I each refuse to share the other with the world. My eyes are firmly locked on him as he bites into a croissant. “Gack!” he exclaims, and I release the laugh I knew was coming. “Why do people rave about the food on cruises?” he says, unceremoniously dropping the faux delicacy onto his plate. “I think I’ve actually lost weight.”

“You’re welcome,” I sing in regard to my time spent refining his palate.

His eyes lock on the croissant in shame. “All those years I spent at the gym trying to work off the pastry I nabbed from your shop only to learn I should have just gone on vacation.”

“Ooh! Good point,” I burst, excitement bubbling out of my pores. “We need to find some place with a gym nearby. That kills my idea of living in the middle of nowhere. Oh! We could buy a house with a basement and build our own gym.” My fork drops onto my plate with a
clang
. “Let’s install a home theatre, too. Then we never need to leave the house, and you can walk around naked all the time.”
 

No reaction is given to my wording. Instead Donovan’s eyes remain on the croissant, his hand tapping on his leg. “Hey, you okay?” I ask. “You look like you just ate moldy cheese.”

“Yeah. I’ve got a lot on my mind. There is a lot to face once we board that plane home tomorrow.”

“If that’s all it is then why is your wall suddenly up so high it violates air space? Are you having second thoughts about moving?”

He places his hand reassuringly on mine. “Never. It’s just that sometimes when you dream of something for so long, when it finally arrives it becomes scary. Come on, we need to hurry or we’ll miss our excursion.”

Donovan and I are part of what feels like an endless sea of tourists being herded through the Acropolis. Donovan fidgeted the entire bus ride here, only to come alive as we off-boarded and he sucked in the air, as if it holds magic. As we climb the hill to the Parthenon, Donovan points to an easily overlooked temple that appears precariously perched above the city. Its lovely marble columns and unusual placement make me wonder how I, along with so many others, could easily have missed it.

Donovan pulls us as close to the temple as permitted. Tourists brush pasts as he wraps his arms around me from behind, and we absorb the gem that is a testament to the ages. “The Temple of Athena Nike has been around since 400 B.C. It was built to express Athens’ ambitions to beat Sparta. It reminds me of us.”

“Donovan, I hate to burst your bubble, but didn’t the Spartans win that battle?”

“Look at the big picture. The Athenians were defeated, just like we were, yet today we stand in Athens, along with that temple, both a symbol of victory.” Turning me to face him, something in his eyes conveys his words are supported by the ultimate power. “The big difference is, though someday that temple will fall, you and I are eternal. I truly believe that.”

From his pocket, he removes a small box containing two rings; one with a large, radiant cut diamond, the other a band of tanzanite and sapphires. “In Plato’s
The Symposium
, Aristophanes tells that humans were originally two complete people who were attached. Since humans had great strength, they were seen as a threat to the gods, thus Zeus split them in half to weaken them. It is said that when two halves find each other, they will know no greater joy than reuniting. If soul mates are two that come from the same source, how fitting are our birth circumstances? We really are victorious and blessed. I no longer feel like I screwed up all those years ago. I have everything now, that is if—” Donovan lowers himself onto one knee. “Lily, will you give me the incredible honor of reuniting with my other half?”

The radiance of the sun on the diamond pales to that on Donovan’s face. He looks twenty-one again, just like the last time we were together—as if his life has been lived on pause in anticipation of this day.

Once upon a time, I had dared dream of this moment. When I did, love swelled in my chest and sent tears flowing down my cheeks. As emotional as it was, never did I imagine how intense the reality could be. My racing heart, my locked breath, my stomach of butterflies—every cliché swirls through me, turning me into a vortex of bliss. Rapidly I nod, fanning my face as if to disperse some of the emotions that overwhelm.

Standing tall and proud, high upon the hill for all to see, Donovan rises to place the rings on my finger. “I promise to love and stand by you,” he vows, his words steady. “To honor and treasure you, not merely for all of my days, but for every moment of what is to come. Wherever God takes you, I will stay by your side, in any situation, and without shame. I will always love you.”

How he could stay so grounded in this moment floors me, as I can barely start my words. “I promise to always be the one who never abandons you, to never let you down, and to be there no matter where God places us, no matter what the circumstances. I will always love you.”

“You and me forever, Lily.”

“You and me forever.”

My eyes focus on the paper before me, unwilling to look up and face the kitchen and the memories it holds. My heart hears Eric sing as he cooks, the children laugh as they play, and Christopher’s music traveling up from the basement.
 
While signing the final page of the escrow documents, I exhale the last breath of my old life.

When I told my children they could have the house, looks of horror crossed their faces, as they understood my decision to move to Montana was final. Donovan and I have agreed to come here at least every Easter, Thanksgiving, and Christmas so I can continue to fix those meals and spend precious time with our family—giving us two worlds. As for the bakery, I signed that over to Sunshine last night.

With a blur my hand slides the papers across the table to Jenny, who finally discovered her calling as a realtor. Like mine, her smile is bittersweet. “I hope if my world ever crumbles I find your strength,” she says, completely unaware of how strong I’ve always been. We’re the perfect example of how two people can know each other yet hold secrets the other would never guess.

Donovan and Julian return after loading the last of the boxes into the moving van. “All set?” Donovan asks.

“Yep,” I say, my hands burrowed into my lap as my eyes scan the kitchen, wondering how it will look when I next enter it on Thanksgiving.

“It’s unbelievable how full this place is considering how much we loaded into the van,” Julian muses at the furniture left behind. All I have taken are personal effects, some photos, mementos of Christopher, and my best kitchen supplies. This is a time for rebirth.

“We’ll meet you outside,” Donovan says, effectively pushing everyone out. My eyes must scream for a moment of privacy.

“Actually we should take off,” Jenny says. “I’m going to force my husband to spend the rest of however few free on-call minutes he has with me. Good luck, Lily.” Jenny hugs me, as if trying to squeeze out my pain so that I can leave it all behind. The gesture moves me, and I dab my expression of love for Christopher from my eyes.

“Bye, Lily,” Julian says, flashing his bright smile before hugging me. After the others leave Julian stops just shy of the door. He hesitates, carefully selecting his words. “This may be out of line, but you told me a long time ago that Donovan never touched you in any way that wasn’t welcome. Is that still true?”

“Julian, not all who have problems are abusive, just like not all who have unorthodox relationships are dysfunctional. Thank you for watching over me, but I’ve always been fine.”

His smile warms me. “Be happy,” he says, departing.

As I close the door, the house feels hollow, not just of my belongings but of all life. I expected to feel Christopher here, but he’s moved on, just like I need to. On the descent to the basement, my vision becomes so blurred from sorrow it is hard to see the steps. My intent is to stand in the center of the room and feel the music one last time. Instead I halt at the bottom step, accepting that even if I weren’t moving on, this part of my life is forever gone.

“Goodbye, Christopher. Thank you for bringing me more joy than I ever felt possible. I’ll always love you, and I will always miss us.”

Fleeing the house, my tears leave behind a trail of love.
 

Stepping out the front door, the glow of the sun surrounds me, drawing me into the next life.

Five Years Later…

“Why are we doing this?” I ask Donovan as we move my belongings out of his room. We are so removed from neighbors we can make out on our front lawn in total privacy. There is very little pretense here. If we didn’t fear these extended family visits, we would just tell all the locals we are married, like we do when traveling.

“Because we love our families and want to spend time with our grandchildren,” Donovan grouses while grabbing a box of my things and heading off to stash them in my closet. “Remember how badly you wanted kids? This is one of those times when it comes back to bite you in the ass.”

Grabbing another box, I follow behind. “God, I thought we moved to a remote enough area where no one would want to come. Maybe we should have left the country.”

“I’m too old to learn another language,” Donovan gripes as he sets the box in the closet.

“And I’m too old to lift these boxes.”

Instead of taking my box, he steps aside to grant me closet access. “You’re never too old to be in shape.”

“And you’re never too old to stop being a gentleman.” I chuckle and shove the box into his arms.

“Touché,” he says, placing it in the closet. “They should be here any minute. Your room looks normal. Maybe a little too clean though. Did you get a new frame for your wedding picture?” he asks, pointing to my nightstand.

“No, I just polished it. I like to do that occasionally.”

“As you well should.” Donovan kisses my forehead as we move on to his room. Inside the open closet sits a laundry basket. The brightly colored lace garments in it make for a revealing display that sends me racing. “Crap! I forgot to remove my laundry. We don’t need anyone finding dirty lady undies in your room.”

“Let them, it will add to my playboy image.”

“Either that or they’ll think you’re a closet transvestite.” Removing a pair of bright blue panties from the basket, I stroll to Donovan and hold them against his crotch. “Hmm... It would explain a lot about why we’ve spent five years hiding if you’re a cross dresser.”

His eyes grow with mirth as he lofts me onto the bed, his lips attacking my neck with a vengeance. “We both know there is no way they will think this hot hunk of man is a transvestite.”

“Gee, D-boy, your ego trip is a bumpy one.” His kisses send a twitter though my nervous system. “Oh, dear God. Are we going to be able to make it a week without this?”