She’s always been flightier on the subject, but she’s undoubtedly always been the one with a much higher sex drive. He can’t imagine she wants to go without. Clive swallows his breath and nods.
“I haven’t been anyone else in long months,” he says. “If it’s any consolation.”
"I'm sorry," she says once more. "For not always knowing what to do. For sometimes making things worse. I feel like I used to know the right moves, before, when we were at the Hideaway."
He hesitates to pull away, instead turning to her, his hand still in hers.
“It’s alright, Jill,” he says, quietly. “This has all been strange, and far beyond anything we ever imagined… I couldn’t expect more grace and patience than you’ve already given.”
It feels as if all she's done is weep. She's always surprised to find there are more tears behind her eyes, but it's only because she can see the tears in his.
It hurts to stand, her skin sore and stiff from sitting. Yet she does, using his hand to pull herself up. She can't be expected to remain where she is when she sees that look on his face.
"My treasure," she says, hugging him. They must find a way to heal together.
He gathers her carefully into his arms, burying his face in her hair as he holds her gingerly to him. His breath comes momentarily sharp and uncomfortable as he holds back a sob.
He holds her gingerly, but it's not enough. She presses herself against him to compensate. Her arm protests but she doesn't care.
"Will you be alright?" She asks. She didn't ask him how he was after that terrible night when she should have--she checked on Joshua, checked on Dion, but not the man she loves most.
Clive nods again, his embrace around her tightening marginally. She isn't the first woman to act like his presence is disgusting, but prying himself out of her arms now feels cold. He doesn't want to hurt her worse than he already has.
"I'm sorry for driving you off, and hurting someone you love."
Clive cannot remember the last time he felt so viscerally uncomfortable, now at the prospect of admitting he does deserve better behaviour from her, but he still can't bring himself to say it aloud. He just wonders aloud, voice quiet:
"No," she replies immediately, truthfully. He's done brutish things, but he's no brute. He wouldn't tend to her so gently or hold her so carefully otherwise.
Jill squeezes him before pulling back enough to look at him. She promises herself that she will try to meet his eyes more often, to not look away when speaking.
"I love you. I don't think you're a monster, Clive." Worth to say clearly, to further soothe his heart. Her eyes drop to his lips before she leans up to press a brief, chaste kiss to them. She'll behave.
He’s glad it’s short, if only because it’s too tempting to leave conversation behind and settle into the simple comfort of touch. He sighs, forehead against hers, lingering close for just a second longer.
“Thank you,” he sighs. “I will sleep better tonight knowing that.”
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“I haven’t been anyone else in long months,” he says. “If it’s any consolation.”
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"I don't wish to know about it, but you should find your pleasure where you can."
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"I'm sorry," she says once more. "For not always knowing what to do. For sometimes making things worse. I feel like I used to know the right moves, before, when we were at the Hideaway."
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“It’s alright, Jill,” he says, quietly. “This has all been strange, and far beyond anything we ever imagined… I couldn’t expect more grace and patience than you’ve already given.”
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She can't.
"I need you, Clive. I always have."
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“I know, my love. I know. We need a future together, so we must try.”
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It hurts to stand, her skin sore and stiff from sitting. Yet she does, using his hand to pull herself up. She can't be expected to remain where she is when she sees that look on his face.
"My treasure," she says, hugging him. They must find a way to heal together.
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“We’ll be alright eventually,” he promises her.
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"Will you be alright?" She asks. She didn't ask him how he was after that terrible night when she should have--she checked on Joshua, checked on Dion, but not the man she loves most.
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“Eventually,” he says, finally. “I’ve suffered worse.”
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Jill rubs a hand up and down his back. How she's missed being in his arms. She doesn't want to leave them.
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"We'll fix all of it," he says. "Together."
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They have to start with one another before they can fix anything else.
"I'm here now. Forgive me for taking so long to find you, Clive."
A month of skirting around him and leaving the room shortly after he enters. It's cruel.
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"I'm sorry for driving you off, and hurting someone you love."
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Everyone must find a way forward.
"I know you're the same man I've loved for so much of my life," she says. "You deserve better from me."
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"Did you ever think I wasn't?"
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"But I haven't acted like it."
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"I love you, Jill," he says. "It made me sick to my heart to think you thought me as much of a monster as I feel I am..."
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"I love you. I don't think you're a monster, Clive." Worth to say clearly, to further soothe his heart. Her eyes drop to his lips before she leans up to press a brief, chaste kiss to them. She'll behave.
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“Thank you,” he sighs. “I will sleep better tonight knowing that.”
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"When do we know we're better?" She asks. Sleep came so much easier with him beside her.
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"I don't know if anyone has ever had that."
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“Well, then,” he says. “When we can imagine ourselves married and having babies and growing old together once more.”
But he still, he thinks, doesn’t want to be afraid.
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