Omnia Vincit Amor Pt. 03

"I said I thought I was doing that being here, but she said it needs to be very gradual. So it seems I've been getting it wrong! Far too heavy handed!"

"No," said John, "You've needed a break from an oppressive situation as well, it's not all about him, but I can see her point. You did rather drop him in it, but you were at the end of your rope!"

One again they laughed. Then she became serious.

"John," she said with a frown, "I've got to go back. Perhaps there's a chance..."

Even though he had been expecting it for a month, the present reality came with some power, and his face showed it.

"Oh, John," she cried, "I'm so sorry! You've been so good to me, and now I'm leaving you in the lurch."

John smiled wryly. "Claire, dear, I think we always knew it would be like this. I'll survive. Sooner or later I have to get used to being alone. Your company has healed me of the worst of my bereavement. We all have to face things we don't like. It's been a privilege and a gift to have you here. Don't feel bad."

Claire hugged him, and as she had a month before, kissed him like a lover, and he kissed her back. Then they looked at each other trying to read each other's reaction. Then at the same time, they laughed.

"John, I think we were entitled to that," she said, with an invitation in her voice for him to agree.

"It expresses how we feel," he answered. "It's honest. Now let's get you booked on a flight and get you packed."

They managed to book her on a flight on Valentine's Day, and she phoned Peter to tell him when the flight would arrive.

"You're coming home?" he asked unbelievingly. "Really?"

"Yes Peter my love, really. I said I would if you got help, and you have. Now we both work on it, this time with professional help."

"I'll pick you up at the airport," he said, the difference between this time and the last being obvious to both.

"Thanks."

That ended the call, and John who was sitting opposite her, looked surprised.

"What is it John?" she asked.

"No, nothing," he replied, and she could see the evasion.

"John, come on," she begged, "be open with me. I need you to do that."

He clearly did not want to say it, but she gazed at him until he shrugged and spoke.

"I heard, 'thanks', then you disconnected," he said, and let it lie.

She wondered for a moment and then got it.

"Yes, I understand," she admitted. "No farewell words of love."

He nodded, but he knew she would see he was not asking for an explanation. He had acceded to her demand to be open, and no more. However, she could not leave it there, she felt she owed it to him.

"When I said thanks, I waited for him to say something. He disconnected first."

She shrugged.

John nodded and that was the end of it.

The day before she left was Sunday and after Mass they cooked a Sunday lunch together as they had become accustomed to doing, enjoying it as a couple. In the afternoon Catherine and then Clare came to visit, having heard that Claire was going home the next day. They stayed for afternoon tea.

Ellen rang in the evening.

"Sister darling," she said cheerfully, "Simon has talked some sense into me I think. I really admire what you're doing, your commitment to Peter, everything. I really hope it all works out for you. Come over and see us some more though, won't you?"

"Thanks Ellen, that means a lot to me. Personally I don't always feel all that hopeful, but he is trying, and the psychiatrist sounds confident and wants to build up his trust gradually. I'm not convinced Peter believes that John and I have been platonic all this time, and that's a deal breaker for me. If he doesn't believe in me and my commitment to him, we won't be able to begin getting closer again."

"I'm so relieved to hear that, Sis, I thought you were being unrealistic, but you're not, are you? Good luck, we'll be praying for you!"

They signed off with words of love and Claire looked bleakly at John.

"I hope I'm doing the right thing, John," she said, "not just prolonging the agony."

"Claire, love," he said reassuringly, "if you don't do it you'll always regret you didn't give the relationship every chance. If it's a failure, you haven't lost anything, have you? And if it's a success you'll feel it was well worth it, and glad you were committed and faithful."

"Yes," she said reflectively, "as usual, you're right, John. You won't mind it I phone you?"

"Of course not!"

"Because I think, no, I'm certain, I'll need your support."

"You know you'll always have that. Peter is so lucky to have married you."

They did the usual bedtime chores, and made their way with cocoa to bed. Stopping on the landing and leaning in to each other, mug in hand, to kiss goodnight. They both laughed at the strange bodily angles they needed to succeed in the activity, without spilling their drinks. It was perforce brief.

John made his ablutions and returned, naked, to his bed, wondering if he would receive a visit that particular evening. A memory came of that night when as a student he went to her bed at her parental home, and smiled fondly at the thought.

He was reading his novel by the light of his bedside lamp, which cast a warm glow over the room, when the knock came, and Claire entered without his invitation. He did not mind.

She was wearing a short silk chemise which hung from her breasts, which sported sharp points from her excited nipples. It reached to a spot which maintained her modesty by an inch or two and no more. John could not help taking in her long shapely legs.

He raised an eyebrow interrogatively.

Her few previous visits had been at crisis points when she was at her most vulnerable and lonely, and her approach had always been tentative, ready to retreat if John refused her, which of course he never did.

This time was different. She was confident, almost cheeky as she came to stand by his bed.

"Sweetheart," she said with such a loving look he could feel his excitement rising, "when I needed comfort in this bed, you gave it to me and never took advantage. If you had, I don't know if I could have resisted, I love you too much.

"Tonight's the last chance I'll have. It may be the very last chance to be with you. If it works out with Peter, I'll never be coming back here to your bed.

"I want to spend this last night here with you, in your arms as before. May I?"

She stood patiently while John tried to concentrate with a now raging erection. There was no interior discussion, no questions of morality, or resisting the dangers of the situation. She wanted to be in bed with him, and he wanted her to be there.

However, there was one problem and it resided rigidly between his legs. On her previous visits he'd been flaccid, quiescent, and she was distressed, so he could throw the duvet open, showing his nakedness and invite her in. This was different! He was hard as iron.

She was waiting.

"Claire I'm happy if you want to spend the night, but there is a problem." He looked at her intently and she understood.

"I've seen you, shall we say, 'eager' before, some years ago," and here she gave a little giggle. "I don't suppose there's been much change." She looked at him mischievously.

He sighed, shrugged and flipped the duvet, showing himself, hard and erect. She looked, gave a theatrical gasp then nodded with a smile. Then to his great surprise, she took the hem of her chemise and lifted it rapidly off her body and over her head. She stood for a moment in her silky boy-shorts, than slipped them also down her legs. He gazed at her mature nudity.

Her breasts were medium size and sagged only a little, small enough not to have too much weight. Her figure was hour-glass, her waist quite narrow, her hips swelling. She had a rounded stomach, and a full, close-trimmed bush. Then her slim thighs and rounded calves and pretty feet. Her neck was the only part he could see that showed her age, and he could see most of her. There were the fine wrinkles on her face, which had kept its beautiful shape.

He took it all in in an instant, and she began to join him, climbing onto the bed, before scooting down and embracing him.

"Claire?" he enquired.

She kissed him and explained, "You've been naked every time I've come to bed, and I've stayed dressed, which I think showed a lack of openness and trust on my part. This could be the last time, so you deserve to see me as I have seen you. Now you can feel me as I've felt you."

At this she pressed herself against him, flattening her breasts on his chest, and trapping his solid erection against her stomach. Then she kissed his neck, sending shivers down his spine. He lifted her face and kissed her deeply, and she kissed him back eagerly.

However, neither of them wanted this to go further, while at the same time being quite willing to go along with the other. They hugged each other close with legs intertwining so he felt her warm furry sex against his thigh, and his hard penis was low against her groin. They ranged their hands over each other's bodies, but both avoided any erogenous area.

Gradually the tension eased, his erection wilted and her breathing softened. They lay together, enjoying the feeling of the other's flesh so close.

Eventually: "I'm glad we didn't," she said quietly and they both knew what she meant.

"So am I," he agreed. "After resisting our urges for so long, it would have been disappointing to fail now."

"You've been resisting your urges, have you John?" she said with a lightness in her voice.

"Haven't you?" he cheerfully threw the question back.

A pause, then "Yes. Me too."

She snuggled into him, and there was no more talk because they both fell asleep.

He awoke to an empty bed at eight that Monday morning, Valentines Day, and rolled out of bed to relieve his full bladder. When he returned there was a naked woman sitting up in bed, naturally showing rather than actively displaying her neat breasts, and he saw two mugs of tea one each side of the bed. He returned to his side and climbed in, switching the radio on for some quiet music.

They drank their tea in silence, listening to the music, then put their mugs down. She turned to him and laid her head on his shoulder. He put his arm round her and pulled her closer.

"John, I need to say this now, because I think we'll be too busy for the rest of the day until you drop me off at the airport. You will drop me off?"

"Yes, my darling, I'll drop you off."

"I want to be completely honest with you and say some things I've kept to myself. I can't believe how good you've been to me, how you've supported me just enough every time there's been a crisis. I really appreciate the countless times you've had things to say, and haven't said them, the way you withdraw to give me chance to talk to my children and that last time to Peter."

"It's been a privilege and a pleasure to have you here, you know that."

"That's you all over, John my darling. What I'm going to say now I know perhaps I shouldn't, but I want to hold nothing back. I'm more in love with you now than I am with Peter. I do love Peter, and I will fulfil my commitment to him as long as I can, but I need to admit to you that I love you so much more, and I'm sad I can't have you. I can't help it: it's the way I feel. I'm sorry."

She snuggled into his chest, and he hugged her to him. He was silent for a while, and the music played on. Then came his response.

"Don't be sorry. You know I love you, and since you're being so open, I've fallen in love with you again, like I did when we were young. I know I have, because I feel the same way about you as I do about Elizabeth. So we want each other, but that's not enough is it? You have a prior responsibility and you do love Peter."

"Yes, I know. I do love him and I know that love is not just an emotion but an act of will. I will give myself to him as long as I can. I do feel desire for him. Does that make sense?"

"Claire, you are doing the right thing."

"But it'll hurt you." She stroked his face gently, and lifted her face for a kiss.

"Yes, it will. Elizabeth's death -- that was out of my hands. I wanted her for many more years. The pain of my losing her is so much more intense for loving her so much. I wouldn't have it any other way, though.

"And these weeks I've had you here, only to lose you again? I wouldn't have that any other way either." He kissed her.

"I'll miss you so much!" she averred.

"And I'll miss you too, That's life," and he gave a short laugh.

"Kiss me!" she said intensely.

They kissed, nibbling lips then opening to touch tongues, and she turned her body to him and lay on him for a moment, before leaving the bed. He watched her naked body walk away.

They had been right about the rest of the available time. They had breakfast together, then she was packing the last of her possessions into her suitcases, and then they were loading his car.

Too soon they were standing near the airport's security gates facing each other. They gazed at each other, then hugged and kissed at length, not wanted to let go.

"Goodbye. Love you."

"Goodbye. Love you."

She turned and was gone. John turned and once more went home to an empty house.

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