she was furious. She rose swiftly and turned away from the table, going to stand by the fire where she sobbed quietly into her hands. Yul watched her from the table then drained his glass and poured out the last of the wine, knowing there was another bottle waiting in his study downstairs. He too stood and quickly tipped back the last of the rich contents, then crossed to the fireplace and took her in his arms. She stayed hunched up and resisting, not wanting his comfort. Not when he’d upset her in the first place with his arrogance and bullying. But he firmly unclenched her arms and put them by her sides, enfolding her in a large, safe embrace, gently stroking her hair until eventually she started to relax.
‘Come and sit on the sofa,’ he said softly. ‘Come on, Sylvie, stop fighting me. There really is no need.’
He led her to the sofa and pulled her down next to him with her head on his chest. He felt her resistance but continued stroking her hair, tracing the contours of her face with coaxing fingers until gradually she let go and began to unwind. Yul had a sure and compelling touch and knew her of old. He found her proximity difficult to bear as it had now been quite a while since they’d made love properly. He couldn’t count the failed attempt after her return from Bournemouth which he’d brought to an end, much as he’d regretted it later as he lay alone in the darkness of his study. But Yul knew he mustn’t rush this tonight; he must take it slowly and carefully until she was completely ready. She was vulnerable and must be handled very delicately.
‘You know I love you, Sylvie,’ he murmured, running her silky hair through his fingers. ‘I don’t know what’s wrong between us but never forget how much I love you. You’re my whole life, you know.’
She snuggled into him, the worries and fears receding a little. This was what mattered; this was how it should be. He continued his caresses and she started to loosen under his touch, letting go of the anxieties that kept her tied in knots. He knew how to make her feel so good. In the soft lamplight and the flickering firelight Sylvie could see him clearly, his beloved face so handsome and full of want. His eyes gazed down at her lovingly as slowly his fingers smoothed and admired every curve and angle of her, until neither of them could hold back any longer. As one they rolled onto the soft rug in front of the fire and forgot their recent troubles, forgot their differences, and remembered only the joy and passion of each other’s bodies.
Later as they lay in each other’s arms on the sofa once more, both feeling infinitely more content than they’d done for a long time, he risked broaching the subject of their estrangement.
‘Is it something to do with the bedroom itself?’
She gazed into the fire, and nodded.
‘You’ve been having nightmares, you said? Is it all linked to that?’
‘Yes, I suppose so – kind of.’
‘But in here you feel better?’
‘It’s not … that’s too simplistic, but partly, yes.’
He smiled above her head – that was easily sorted out then, and it explained her passionate kiss downstairs in the entrance hall too when she was leaving for the ballet.
‘Shall I still sleep downstairs tonight? I will if you prefer it – I just want to make you happy, Sylvie, to get back to how we used to be. This rift between us is killing me. I love you, my angel, you know that, don’t you?’
She nodded again, feeling relaxed and at peace now. Maybe it would be alright after all.
‘And this business about Imbolc …’ he began, feeling her tense up again ready to fight him. ‘Do whatever you think best, Sylvie. If you want to lead the whole ceremony, that’s fine – I don’t want to upset you. It’s just that I love you so much and I’m worried you’re over-doing it. I only want what’s best for you.’
‘What’s best for me is not being bossed about or controlled by you,’ she said quietly. ‘I don’t think you realise how much you dominate. You exhaust me, trying to stand up to you all the time. Just give me space and don’t crowd me, don’t try to control me.’
‘Alright, I’ll try harder not to. I really don’t know I’m doing it.’
‘I think you do, Yul.