have again, the abundant thing Rhett gave Scarlett.
You mean the abundant thing Rhett took from Scarlett.
Oh, Julian.
Oh, Mia.
She lies, breathing heavily. You are a bad man, she says.
No, I’m so good.
You know what you did.
I have never been this polite, he says. I’ve done nothing but lie here chastely and answer your questions.
Chaste is the problem.
I agree with you there.
Did you know you’d get us this excited?
Um, did you not know?
No! I thought we were just talking.
Naked in bed at night, face to face, talking about men and women getting it on?
Naked yes, but bandaged and injured, too. What’s your plan now, smart guy?
Who said anything about smart?
Ah. Her dilated dark eyes burn. But you have a plan?
About this sort of thing? Always.
They kiss and mill and groan from the pain, from the wounds, from the pulsing ache at the core of their bodies.
I can’t take it, she says.
Me neither. Lie on your back.
And then what?
And I will lie on my back.
Um . . .
Mia. Just . . . lie on your back.
Carefully she turns onto her back. He turns onto his, even though his shoulder blade is killing him, and with his freed and functioning lowered left hand, he caresses her until the only sound from her is an aspirated oh.
And now what? she says, panting, turning her full-up gaze to him. Her own hand lowers to take hold of him. She moans; he moans. What I want is you. She strokes him. I want what I’ve had the least of in my life. Isn’t it always the way?
It sure is, he says.
You can’t lie on top of me, she says. I can’t get on top of you. Your knees are torn up, so you can’t get behind me. Is there something I’m missing?
And when infirmities thicken upon us, Julian whispers, and old age comes, and we can do little else but lie still, still we persevere.
You think we can overcome it?
Yes, my darling Mia. We may be broken. But we are not hopeless. Slowly he gets off the bed. We will overcome it by patience. He helps her off the bed, too.
Are we going to make love like salmon, standing? Are you going to lift me up?
In another life perhaps, he says. In this one, we will overcome it by faith. Sit on the bed, and lie back. Carefully he helps her lower herself onto her back, and prods open her legs. Her hips are at the edge of the bed.
We will overcome it by hope, he continues, stepping between her legs.
She moans. You think this is going to work?
Yes. Let me show you.
He kisses her. Holding open her legs, he lowers his head between her thighs like he is doubling over, trying not to groan from his broken ribs, from his broken heart, and rubs his mouth softly against her softness. She moans, trying not to move. Her legs quiver. His ribs are throbbing. But he doesn’t want to straighten out until he brings her a little bit of happiness.
And now? she whispers, her hand running through his hair.
We will overcome it by love.
That wasn’t love?
It was. He steps in, to meet her at the bed’s edge, and guides himself, searching for her. But you asked me for something else.
God, yes. She groans. Something less polite.
As you wish, Mia.
They fuse together. She cries out. His palms press down on the backs of her thighs. His fractured forearm pulses pain with every beat of his quickened heart. In this position, the love is efficient and effective. The stress on her body is great. Soon she is overcome.
It’s too intense for her, Julian can see it, he can feel it. Her tumultuous moaning borders on suffering cries. She can’t take it light or heavy. Supporting himself by his one functioning arm, he leans over her for a moment, and kisses her lips. She moans and pleads for something he can’t decipher and then cries through it. Not after; during. She moans and cries and cries. He asks if he’s hurting her, and she says no. He asks if she wants him to finish, and she says NO.
She loved him. And he loved her.
He wants to lie on top of her so much, thread his arms under her, press his weight onto her, kiss her lips again. But he can’t.
He moves slow and deep. He wishes not to move at all. Intermittently he speeds up, to bring her agony and relief, and then slows down once more.