#boandco

TRYING TO LIVE WITHOUT YOUR LOVE IS LIKE ONE LONG SLEEPLESS NIGHT.

her fingertips smooth over those words,  written in such familiar handwriting that she would know it even if it had not been addressed from him.  she could hear his voice in her head,  quietly and hoarsely as if he had whispered them to her.  how his voice could make such a statement feel so intimate to her !  how closely she wanted to hold them to her chest and mimic the embrace she would give to him upon his return.

delicately,  she placed the letter aside,  pulling out her own pen and paper.

‘ dearest eugene,

          if you could see the look on my face every time i receive a letter from you.  i am like a schoolgirl,  running to my bedroom to be alone with your words,  not wanting anyone to see how red my cheeks are.  румяный.  i do not know the word in english.  as much joy as it brings me,  it also makes me miss you so much more.  i am happy my loneliness will come to an end soon.  no one pampers and compliments me like you do,  eugene.  a man at a party the other day did try,  commenting on my dress and,  more specifically,  the way it suited me.  i felt bad for him,  as my mind could only think of you and how you would have said something so much better than he did.  our dear abby has been such a comfort,  as usual,  but it is not at all fair to have one and not the other.  i am very sure i need you both by my side at all times.  when you come home you are not to leave me again,  eugene woods !

hurry back to me in the safest and best fashion that you can.  i will be waiting eagerly.  you’ll be given a personal hero’s welcome. 

                                                                        with love,  your hélène

NO ONE HAS EVER TRIED TO TAKE SOMETHING FROM ME.

' not at all.  never. ‘  a pause.  ‘ well,  of course i thought of it,  as all society women must when they see others having them,  but i never wanted them.  i never thought positively of it. ‘

she says,  brings a hand to her neck,  realizing the  discomfort  she felt was surely from such frank honesty.  she had never afforded it to anyone else outside of her brother,  and even then she had never said the words aloud.  he just knew.  then again,  she had said so to pierre,  in her own way,  but it was not like this.  it was not her confiding in her husband,  it was a weapon.  a way to make him feel foolish.

‘ why do you think i at first went to such ...  measures,  eugene ? ‘  she did not look at him as she spoke,  ashamed of what she had done and had tried to do.  ‘ how happy i am that they failed.  i cannot  imagine. ‘  

' would it be absolutely awful of me to say that i could tell ?  that you’ve never felt this way ? ‘  she leans in scandalously and as casually as if she were in a drawing room,  pressing his arm and lowering her eyelids.

a hand slides down his arm to his hand,  squeezing it in a way she would not do with anyone else.  she had never felt any desire to provide comfort to anyone else but him.  ‘ i can see it in the way you look at me,  woods.  you’re not good at  hiding  your emotions.  all smiles and blushes !  it’s adorable. ‘  she pauses, bending away from him,  dragging his hand with her as she reclines.  ‘ you see,  i am very good at hiding such things,  usually,  but ...  i must tell you  — ‘  she lowers her voice,  despite how isolated they were already.  ‘ you make it awfully hard. ‘

YOU ARE SO GOOD FOR ME.

he is right.  they sit close,  alone in the dark of his bedroom,  where he has spent so much time since his arrival home,  her by his side a fair amount of that time.  it had not yet been like this.  it had been always with such worry and pain in her heart.  a first moment of intimacy  —  true intimacy,  full of  love  and devotion and closeness  —  since he had come home.

‘ i am ...  glad.  i want to only be with you. ‘  as rigid as her words came out,  they were honest.  she could spend her whole life in his bed like this,  one hand in his and the other on his chest.  gently,  lovingly,  carefully.  he made it so easy to be that way.

her forehead rests against his,  lips inches away from his cheek and her skin brushing against rough bandages that were not yet ready to be removed.  she  shivered  as the plaster scraped against her cheekbone,  but did not move away from him,  only tightened the grip on his hand before opening her mouth to speak.  ‘ what will i see when they are gone ?  you know i will love you still,  but what should i expect ? ‘

she pressed herself closer against his chest,  a soft reassurance that she was not afraid and,  because of that,  he should not be either.  she speaks again.  a request.