House: Chapter 21

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Twenty-one

O

h, Silas!  I was right.  You do deserve to be loved.  But not by me.

The whole senses thing was too much...but I can deal with that.  I knew who was behind that little problem.  It could be fixed. 

However, one issue was not so small.  Silas wanted children.  I couldn't have any.  That part of me had never been important before.  I could not have children.  The deficiency had never been as poignant as it was that night.  I knew my decision was the right one.  Without me, he could find a worthy woman to finally settle down with.  To start a family.

Oh, gracious, that feels good!  His lips had traveled across my jawbone, and his nose caressed my cheek.  I was trembling.

Where had my resolve fled to?  I wanted to stop him, but I couldn’t.  His lifeline connected to his need to love me and that was my fault.  Maybe without that connection, he wouldn't be hearing music...loving me with his whole being, rather than feeling it because of my curse.  I should have tried to reverse my interference, but the attempt frightened me.  I would have to do this the hard way, to break his heart.  He was strong enough that he could fix his own soul if he had the desire – and the spite.  Regardless of what his soul claims, he won't die without me.  He was too stubborn to go down without a fight.  The problem was that his heart was already broken.  And because of me, it had started to mend and become whole again.  Could I become another Sarah to him?

No, I couldn’t.  Answering that question was easy enough.  I hoped that I would never meet his Sarah.  I would twist her soul so wretchedly that she wouldn’t make up from down anymore. 

Still, neither of us could really live while we were together.  Together, we became apart from the world, and its responsibilities.  My obligation was helping a handful of teenage girls, not to be with him.  His own dedication could never involve me.  He had so much good to give.  I was standing in his way; he just didn’t know that yet.  But if we continue this way, he would find out exactly what I was.  Would he be hurt – angry? – when he found out?

I learned a long time ago that I could never continue a relationship without hurting someone.  We could not live together.  Nor could we be apart.

“Stop,” I whispered, shoving my fingers between our lips.  “I can’t do this.”

He let me go, confusion on his face.  “Can’t do what?”  The question sounded wounded.  Already, I was hurting him.  And it tore me apart.

“Listen, I don't care if we are a couple of freaks,” he said.  “At least I know now that something about me gets you...that I have an effect on you.  Sometimes I wonder.”  He smiled and tried to kiss me again.

“It’s time for us to a have that talk,” I told him.  He put a finger over my mouth.

“Can we save the talking for later?  Just for tonight?” he said lightly.

“Not even partly,” I replied roughly.  I had to fill my lungs with air.  My heart was pounding from his embrace, and I felt hot.  And I couldn’t breathe without drinking in his scent.  I wasn’t skeptical of myself any longer.  I was in love with this man.

Accepting that did not change anything. 

“I finally realized what is important to me,” I continued, breaking his embrace, though he kept a hand on my arm.  “Where my path is leading and the outcome matters more to me than anything else.”

“What exactly are you saying?”  He stepped back away from me, trepidation clouding his stance.  Dread of what I was about to tell him.

Taking another deep breath, I spoke as bluntly as I could, “I am saying we can't be together.  You distract me.  I can't think when I am around you...and especially when you touch me.  I can't give you what you want.  So, the two of us...that ends now, right here.”

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