Falling Dawn (II)

Chapter 24

"So you think I see you as a project. Is that it?" I interrupted him agitated.

"I don't know, Lisa. I don't know." Tom's inner struggle was obvious. Anxiously, he got off the sofa to walk up and down the office while pulling his hair. The sound of his shoes echoing through the silent night, he kept on mumbling, "I don't know what to believe. I just don't know." Suddenly, he stopped in front of me. Taking my hand, he gently pulled me up to my feet, so we were on an almost even level. "No one's ever cared. I think you do, I think you love me, but I also know that it can't be."

"Okay, Tom. Can you please sit on the lounge and listen to me. I don't want you to interrupt me, no matter what I say. Can you do this, please?"

"Okay," Tom mouthed, sitting down silently. I kneeled in front of him, cupping his hands in mine. They were warm, moist from sweat and shaking. Softly, I stroked over his knuckles, hoping it would calm him.

"I love you, Tom." Even though the light was very dim, I looked deep into his shining blue eyes.

"I love you, too".

"Please, Tom. Can you not say anything, nothing at all?" He looked confused, but nodded in agreement.

"I love you, Tom," I tried again. With deliberation, I spoke slowly and clearly. I wanted him to take in every word. I needed him to believe me, to trust me.

"I love how you look at me, how you put thought in everything you do. I love how you enjoy being with Sam and Emma, how you give all of us so much time and attention. I love listening to all the smart things you say, even if it's the most boring topic. I love your enthusiasm about the things which interest you, like your charity work, or Sam's soccer. I love your smile, your laugh and the twinkles in your eyes when you're happy, but also your sad eyes and when you lean on me, when you trust me. I love your risk taking and your carefulness. I love your planning and your spontaneity. I love it when you brush my hair out of my face and when you gently touch my hand or arm wherever we are. There are so many other things that I love about you; I could go on all night."

After placing a brief kiss on his now calmer hands between mine, I continued. "Sam and Emma love you. You just need to look at their faces when you're around. They have changed so much ever since you moved in with us. They have changed for the better. Emma is having full conversations with me and I am convinced it is your influence. I'm a better mum to them, because you give me balance and support. You need to believe me when I say that you mean the world to the twins and me."

To emphasise my point, I repeatedly kissed his hands, still kneeling in front of him. Tom hadn't moved the entire time, but did have his eyes closed for a while.

Carefully, I took hold of Tom's shirt, getting up on my feet while striping the shirt over his head. Then I went back on my knees. "Last time you showed me, I couldn't see your scars. But now I see them. I see all of them." Gently, I stroked over Tom's naked tummy and chest. As my fingertips slid over the bump of a long, pale scar on his side I stopped, covering protectively the remainder of his past. Tom winced, but let it happen, closing his eyes again. You can try to hide them, but they will not disappear, none of them. I love you, Tom. And I want to find a way how we can live with them.

Tom briefly looked at me, before closing his eyes once more. Kissing the scar, I asked, "Do you remember how you got this one?" His eyes slightly opened, shaking his head. "What about this one," I continued my interrogation, kissing a half-moon shaped scar right next to the first one. Shaking his head again, Tom took my hand and gently led it to a large scar which ran from under his arm pit down to his rib cage. There he let go of my hand, waiting for the question. I needed a while, scared of the answer I'd receive. "Do you remember where you got this scar?"

"Fixing his gaze to my eyes, he silently nodded."

"Do you want to tell me?"

The following silence was unbearable. Did I push him too far? I had no idea what I was doing, playing psychologist. This could backfire big time. But then, Tom began. "I must have been around eight or nine, and food had been missing from the kitchen. It happened all the time. I'm sure it was the staff who helped themselves to it, because none of us would have dared to go in there. But I was being blamed for the missing yoghurt. The cook was going to take me to the director. I knew what punishments he had in place. So I ran, jumped over a barbed wire fence and got stuck. That's where this one is from." Tom's hand was holding mine in place, seeking for a clue in my eyes.

"What happened then?"

Tom shrug. "The same that would have happened anyways." His gaze wandered to our hands on his body." I silently nodded, indicating that I knew. Then, to my surprise, Tom's hand moved mine higher up, sliding over several faded scars, until they came to a halt on the side of his head. As he pressed my fingers, I could feel how the hair on that certain spot was lighter. Tom's breathing had become heavier again, his eyes were closed. "What happened here?" My voice sounded strange, like someone else had asked the question.

"I had vomited in the hallway when I was six. It was after my first day at school. While I cleaned it up, I threw up again. That made the carer so angry, that she literally took me by the collar of my shirt, yelled at me, and shoved me against the wall and in her rage against the nearby window which broke."

"Did you see a doctor?"

"Hardly ever. Certainly not that time. I had to clean up the vomit and glass. Then I had to tell the director that I broke the window." His voice stumbled, getting quieter as he told me about the director. Just when I thought Tom couldn't bear anymore, I couldn't bear anymore; he moved my hand further down, right over his heart. I knew that scar. It was tiny, but still red. The thought of how it happened made me smile. Tom must have been thinking about the same according to the smile on his face. Tom lifted his forehead, with a questioning impression, inviting me to ask. In happier spirits I asked, "What happened here, Tom?" Tom leaned forward, our heads almost touching. "An angel left it, to remind me of the sweet future."

"I love you, Tom." My hands stroked down his cheeks while Tom combed my hair out of my face.

"And I love you, Lisa."

In an attempt to lift me up, I broke free of Tom's hold, gradually moving back. We were good, for now. But tomorrow, Tom would doubt himself again.

As Tom was about to get off the sofa, I prompted him to sit back. "I haven't finished. Please don't interrupt me."

With his eyes glued on me, I pulled off my dress in a swift move, presenting myself in only my red lace undies.

Tom wriggled uncomfortably in his seat, not leaving his eyes off me. To release him from his ordeal, I closed the gap between us, kneeling in front of him again. With deliberate, slow movements, I opened the button on his jeans, unzipped and pulled off his pants. For only a short while, I sat on top of Tom, our aroused sexes touching with only the thin textile of our underwear between us. As our kisses became longer, needier and as I felt loosing myself into him, I broke free again. Standing in front of a panting Tom, I deliberately opened the hook on my bra, provoking him. "No one before you, Tom, made me feel sexy. No one before you made me feel comfortable enough to instigate intimacy. I want you, Tom. And I never said that to anyone before. I want you, body and soul." After pulling down my panties, I knelt down to free Tom from his.

"Oh god," Tom moaned as I stepped over him, the tip of his erection touching my sensitive parts. I couldn't bear it any longer, inserting him into me. Another loud moan escaped him.

"I need you so much, Tom. I dreamed of you before I met you, and now I can't live without you anymore. You complete me in every way possible." Slowly, I began moving up and down, feeling that beautiful blankness build up, leading to our release. Tom's fingers all over me, pampering my breasts with hard, perfect grips, pulling back my hair to leave a trail of love bites on my neck which were still visible two days later.