Yesterday's Innocence: The Learning Curve
**UNEDITED**UNEDITED**
SNIPPET #1
When Mark and Mickie stopped next to the table where Jimmy and Dee were sitting, they both stood up, stunned to see Mark standing there with Mickie. Jimmy reached out extending his hand to clasp Mark's in a firm handshake, while Dee hugged his neck.
“Mark, you came in,” Dee exclaimed, smiling at him.
“Finally,” he said, grinning.
“Damn, it’s good to have the four of us back together again,” Jimmy added, smiling.
“Jimmy, get the waitress over here with another pitcher of beer and a Diet Pepsi for Chelle,” Mark said, still standing with an arm around her shoulders. “Come on, honey. I want to dance with you.”
Leading her towards the dance floor away from Dee and Jimmy, Mickie followed him. As they stepped on the raised floor, Mark immediately pulled her into his arms and fell into step to the slow song the band was playing. With his hands splayed on her back, Mark savored the feel of her body next to his. Neither of them spoke, her fingers working their magic on the back of his head and the nape of his neck. He buried his face in the blonde, silky waves, and basked in the feel of her warm breath against his throat.
“God, I’ve missed you so much, honey,” he murmured next to her ear. He placed a kiss against her temple. “I’ve dreamt about this moment for the past six weeks.”
Mark pulled away, seeking out her eyes when she didn’t say anything. The crystal blue eyes that met his were shimmering with unshed tears, and the intensity of the desire meeting his gaze astounded him. “Oh God, Chelle...I love you more than you could ever imagine.”
“Mark, you came in,” Dee exclaimed, smiling at him.
“Finally,” he said, grinning.
“Damn, it’s good to have the four of us back together again,” Jimmy added, smiling.
“Jimmy, get the waitress over here with another pitcher of beer and a Diet Pepsi for Chelle,” Mark said, still standing with an arm around her shoulders. “Come on, honey. I want to dance with you.”
Leading her towards the dance floor away from Dee and Jimmy, Mickie followed him. As they stepped on the raised floor, Mark immediately pulled her into his arms and fell into step to the slow song the band was playing. With his hands splayed on her back, Mark savored the feel of her body next to his. Neither of them spoke, her fingers working their magic on the back of his head and the nape of his neck. He buried his face in the blonde, silky waves, and basked in the feel of her warm breath against his throat.
“God, I’ve missed you so much, honey,” he murmured next to her ear. He placed a kiss against her temple. “I’ve dreamt about this moment for the past six weeks.”
Mark pulled away, seeking out her eyes when she didn’t say anything. The crystal blue eyes that met his were shimmering with unshed tears, and the intensity of the desire meeting his gaze astounded him. “Oh God, Chelle...I love you more than you could ever imagine.”
* * *
She couldn’t speak over the lump in her throat. She was so emotionally wrapped up in him...in his arms. She had missed him so much, and now to finally be held by him again was almost too much for her. She couldn’t get close enough to him. She wanted to become part of him. It was a yearning...a craving. Her soul struggled to be one with his. Like millions of little fingers...talons...her soul reached out trying desperately to mesh with him.
But, she couldn’t accomplish it. He was her reason for being. Nothing else mattered to her except being with him. Being his. And she was his. She knew at that moment without a doubt, she would always be his.
“I love you, Mark,” she said over the raw emotion in her throat. “My soul will always belong to you...no matter what. There’s something so deep...so compelling...inside of me that wants to become a part of you...but I can’t...I don’t know how to do it.”
But, she couldn’t accomplish it. He was her reason for being. Nothing else mattered to her except being with him. Being his. And she was his. She knew at that moment without a doubt, she would always be his.
“I love you, Mark,” she said over the raw emotion in her throat. “My soul will always belong to you...no matter what. There’s something so deep...so compelling...inside of me that wants to become a part of you...but I can’t...I don’t know how to do it.”
* * *
A tear trickled down her cheek, and his thumb gently wiped it away. They had stopped dancing, standing motionless in the center of the floor. The potency of her commitment to him hammered in his chest...into his mind. The anguish she felt was so profound, he could feel it. Never in his life had anyone struck him with such force. And, little did she know, she had just succeeded in accomplishing her quest.
“My God, Chelle...you are part of me.” His palms cradled her head, his fingers buried in the soft luxury of her hair. He kissed her with every ounce of the love he held in his soul for her.
* * * * * * * * * * * * END * * * * * * * * * * * * *
SNIPPET #2
His eyes slowly traveled to her tear-ridden face. There was a determination on her face he knew he had never seen in her before. He wanted so much to reach out and touch her. To just pull her into his arms and kiss her the way he used to do. In an effort to keep from reaching out to her, his fingers gripped the arms of his wheelchair. Exerting a pressure that turned his hands white, he could feel the muscles and tendons in his hands and arms protrude and constrict. He wanted desperately to be able to make love to her the way he did back at Christmas. To have her carry his baby and make them a real family.
But, that dream had died the day he had been told he was paralyzed. And as Mark held her unblinking stare, he knew he had to find the strength inside of him that would set her free.
As he started to speak, he struggled against the tightness in his throat, but he refused to allow his eyes to stray from hers. "I don't love you, Mickie. It's over for me. And, the baby was an accident. A mistake that you know wasn't suppose to have happened. It’s for the best."
God help me! Let me be strong long enough for her to leave the house.
His chest felt as if it had caved in and he was unable to draw in a breath. His eyes stayed rooted to hers as he watched the display of emotions that flickered through the windows to her soul. And then the cold hardness turned her face to something he couldn't name. Her eyes were ice and she struggled for a moment with the engagement ring on her finger, pulled it off and laid it on the table in front of him.
As she straightened, her hand shot out and slapped his face, the sound vibrating in his ears as he reached to touch his offended cheek. When his eyes met hers again, he saw the challenge in their depths that openly dared him to cross her.
"You bastard," she hissed. "I hope you feel that for the rest of your goddamn life. Because nobody... not even you, is going to tell me our baby is better off dead." She turned without waiting for him to respond and walked out of the room.
His eyes met the condemning blue gaze directed at him.
“You self-centered bastard,” Jimmy said evenly. “You’re right about one thing. You aren’t the same man anymore. You’re not even a decent pitiful excuse of a man anymore. You don’t deserve her, you damned coward.” Jimmy turned and walked out of the house, catching up to her at his car.
Hearing the front door shut behind Jimmy, his arm shot out and wiped everything off of the end table that sat next to him. "Goddammit!" Mark cursed as the pain he felt washed over him. The tears spilled down over his cheeks as he realized he’d just lost the only reason he’d ever had for living. "Mickie, I love you. God, let her know I didn't mean it! Dammit! Damn, I can't live like this!"
His mother stood at the doorway as Mark acted out the anger and frustration that had been locked inside of him for weeks. She watched as he reached over and picked the ring up from where she had laid it. Holding it to his chest in his closed fist, he let the tears slide down his face mourning the loss of something more precious than his own life.
"Mark? Are you okay?" His mother's voice was soft, but Mark turned quickly to face her, startled that she had been there. He stiffened perceptibly at her question.
"Hell no, I'm not okay! I wish to God I had died in that damned accident, because I'll be living in a hell of my own making for the rest of my goddamn life. I know she'll eventually get her life back together, and someone else will hold the only piece of heaven I'll ever know."
His eyes slowly traveled to her tear-ridden face. There was a determination on her face he knew he had never seen in her before. He wanted so much to reach out and touch her. To just pull her into his arms and kiss her the way he used to do. In an effort to keep from reaching out to her, his fingers gripped the arms of his wheelchair. Exerting a pressure that turned his hands white, he could feel the muscles and tendons in his hands and arms protrude and constrict. He wanted desperately to be able to make love to her the way he did back at Christmas. To have her carry his baby and make them a real family.
But, that dream had died the day he had been told he was paralyzed. And as Mark held her unblinking stare, he knew he had to find the strength inside of him that would set her free.
As he started to speak, he struggled against the tightness in his throat, but he refused to allow his eyes to stray from hers. "I don't love you, Mickie. It's over for me. And, the baby was an accident. A mistake that you know wasn't suppose to have happened. It’s for the best."
God help me! Let me be strong long enough for her to leave the house.
His chest felt as if it had caved in and he was unable to draw in a breath. His eyes stayed rooted to hers as he watched the display of emotions that flickered through the windows to her soul. And then the cold hardness turned her face to something he couldn't name. Her eyes were ice and she struggled for a moment with the engagement ring on her finger, pulled it off and laid it on the table in front of him.
As she straightened, her hand shot out and slapped his face, the sound vibrating in his ears as he reached to touch his offended cheek. When his eyes met hers again, he saw the challenge in their depths that openly dared him to cross her.
"You bastard," she hissed. "I hope you feel that for the rest of your goddamn life. Because nobody... not even you, is going to tell me our baby is better off dead." She turned without waiting for him to respond and walked out of the room.
His eyes met the condemning blue gaze directed at him.
“You self-centered bastard,” Jimmy said evenly. “You’re right about one thing. You aren’t the same man anymore. You’re not even a decent pitiful excuse of a man anymore. You don’t deserve her, you damned coward.” Jimmy turned and walked out of the house, catching up to her at his car.
Hearing the front door shut behind Jimmy, his arm shot out and wiped everything off of the end table that sat next to him. "Goddammit!" Mark cursed as the pain he felt washed over him. The tears spilled down over his cheeks as he realized he’d just lost the only reason he’d ever had for living. "Mickie, I love you. God, let her know I didn't mean it! Dammit! Damn, I can't live like this!"
His mother stood at the doorway as Mark acted out the anger and frustration that had been locked inside of him for weeks. She watched as he reached over and picked the ring up from where she had laid it. Holding it to his chest in his closed fist, he let the tears slide down his face mourning the loss of something more precious than his own life.
"Mark? Are you okay?" His mother's voice was soft, but Mark turned quickly to face her, startled that she had been there. He stiffened perceptibly at her question.
"Hell no, I'm not okay! I wish to God I had died in that damned accident, because I'll be living in a hell of my own making for the rest of my goddamn life. I know she'll eventually get her life back together, and someone else will hold the only piece of heaven I'll ever know."
* * * * * * * * * * * * END * * * * * * * * * * *
posted by Brenda (aka: Canice Brown-Porter) at 7:42 PM
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