I want to write this woman a poem, one that is as beautiful as she. Maybe one day it will come to me, and I can express what her divinity does to thee. One day.
My fingertips brushed over the curve of her breast and down to the abundance of scars on her abdomen. I expect her to tense, push my hand away, and begin her process of shutting down. She doesn’t, however she remains silent as I continue my exploration.
“I need them gone, Alexander,” she whispers and pulls the covers back, “please, it’s your touch that quells my monster.”
Lili is no longer hiding, in yet why am I still surprised when she requests this of me? Maybe deep down I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. Or could it be the last tendrils of my demons, trying to dig their way to the surface? They are being shoved back in their cage, where they belong. I need her help to chain the door, lock it, and stand guard.
We need each other.
“Anything for you, my sweet siren.”
If it’s my touch my Goddess is wanting, she will have it, forever.
I shift my body over hers and land a kiss to those delectable swollen lips, then I begin my slow trek along her jawline, down her neck, then hear her light gasp from the contact of my rough beard between her breasts. I stop at her ribcage adorned by a majestic peacock stretched the length of her right side, the marks her monster made are hiding there in plain sight.
“By the time I’m done, you will forget him, Lili. That is my promise.”
I’m absolutely mesmerized by this woman; I’m lost in her scent, enthralled by her beauty, her talents and strengths inspire me to be a better man. A man who has purpose again. I owe her everything, and more.
My lips connect with the first set of raised scars, continuing slow and methodical, tracing every inch of skin her monster defiled. Then I landed on the scar directly below her belly button, a long seven-inch mark with a few puckered burns nearby. She never mentioned her monster using a knife, this looks too clean for that.
I’ve questioned her about this scar before, each time she shut me down. Will tonight be the same? Either way, the answer isn’t going to be one I will enjoy.
“And this,” I trace my fingertip along its path to end just above her mound, a shiver rocks through her then skitters through me, “Did he give you this one, too?”
Lili paused, a crease in her brow that wasn’t there a second ago.
“In a manner of speaking.” She weighs the words swirling in her mind before telling the truth, “The pregnancy I spoke of – it was ectopic.”
My breath left me in a rush as she reveals what has plagued her for a decade.God, no.My heart breaks for her. Someone so young having been defiled, permanent tragedies haunting her daily, and now this.
“The pain was intense, I passed out in the corridor at school, and when I came out of surgery – doctors told me,” Indecision weighed in her stare so I took her hand, lending what I could to help get her through this. She took it and squeezed tight, “They told me there was too much damage – the likelihood of becoming pregnant later in life – improbable.”
Sadness and acceptance filled her eyes and I see now why she was the happiest I’d ever seen her be at our family gatherings.
The children.
Lili adores children, does everything she can for them, supports them in their dilemmas through the magic of art, and her foundation is to aide children going through things no child should have to endure.
With these selfless acts she has kept herself hidden from the outside world; I see the why of it all now.
Give me five minutes alone with this monster – when he is found dead it would be no fault of mine. The fault would be his own.
Then a flicker of positivity flares inside.
Improbabledoesn’t meanimpossible. There is still a chance she can have a child. There is hope.
Tears welling in my eyes, I place a kiss to her surgical scar then move back up the bed.
“Lili.” I choke as I cup her face and brush away the onset of tears now streaming down her cheeks.
Her voice is small and holds acceptance of our future, “I understand if you don’t want me anymore-
I silence her with a bruising kiss, one that is meant to leave a mark, my mark. This kiss should tell her I am here to take on her pain, how she no longer has to go through this alone, and how I want to be with her, always.
“I love you, Lili.”
Those three words –