Chapter 8
“You look well rested,” Claire commented as Jesse entered the Inner Sanctum.
“I am. I feel good. A month on Antigua will do that to you.” Tanned and relaxed, he sprawled on the couch, arm muscles bulging from the tight sleeves of his black, vintage Sex Pistols tee-shirt.
“The reports I got back from your doctors were exceptional. And taking a proactive role in ensuring you stayed healthy during a transition time was a very sound decision. This is the most committed I think you have been after a detox, Jesse.”
“I worked too hard to get where I was and there is no shame in asking for a little help if you need it. I was afraid I’d do what I always do. And I didn’t want that to be my fate again. This is the first facility that I felt really got me. I really liked the holistic approach, and the fact that I wasn’t going through treatment and detoxing at the same time, gave me the opportunity to get a lot out of it with a clarity I’d never experienced before in rehab. It was also amazing for my creativity. The ocean is a seductive muse.”
“And now that you’re back? How are you feeling about your life and living in your space without Claudine?”
“I feel good. One of the things that I’ve been thinking about a lot is that maybe I don’t feel like other people do, I mean, when I’m in a relationship. Except for my ego, it wasn’t painful to let her go, because I just don’t feel deeply for others. Or maybe I just didn’t feel deeply for her. I actually really wonder if I have the capacity to feel great, deep love for another person. So, to your question about living in my space without Claudine, it’s nice not to have the burden of disappointing another person. Bad enough that I disappoint myself.”
“Are you disappointed in yourself?” Claire looked up from her iPad.
“Not at all. I feel very strong and in control. I’m eating healthy foods, sleeping normal hours, and working out regularly at L9. And now I’m ready to move forward with regressions and get back to work here. I thought about them a lot while I was gone. Remembering that scene in my parents’ basement and then my subsequent abuse problems was a topic I explored a lot this past month.”
“In therapy?” She reached over to her desk and grabbed a folder, perusing several sheets stapled to the inner cover.
“And in meditation.” Giving her a smile that never failed to drive fans wild, “I had a lot of time out there on the island. Now that I’m back, I’m ready to get to this.”
Looking shocked, Claire offered an out, “We don’t have to begin exploring via regression again until you are ready. We can just talk this session.”
“Dr. S., I’m ready. The time I spent meditating really made me feel like we are on the right path with regression. I want to explore areas of my consciousness that may hold keys to help me work through my shit. I really want to know why I do the self-destructive things that I do and why I seemingly don’t have that capacity to really love another human being.” Picking up the headphones and RGB glasses, the seductive smile was going to ensure he got his way. “Let’s do this.”
Jesse Winslow appeared to be on a mission.
Seeing the difference as she walked Jesse through the guided relaxation meditation, his body muscles and facial expression almost immediately became slack, showing no external sign of stress or discomfort. His receptibility to hypnosis was significantly more positive than before he went away. Claire noted this on her iPad, but wasn’t surprised as she’d often found that clients who practiced meditation were more susceptible to hypnotic suggestion.
“Jesse, please touch your thumb and forefinger together on your right hand.”
Following her direction, she commented, “Very good. This is your anchor. It will always return you to safety. If you are feeling uncomfortable or overwhelmed at any time, create your anchor and it will immediately bring you out of your hypnotic state. Everything you are seeing, you will be able to describe to me in terms you understand from today,” she paused. “Are you ready to start.”
“Yes,” he responded.
“Okay Jesse, look down at your feet and describe to me what you are wearing.”
“Calceus,” was his one-word response.
“Calceus?” she repeated, typing the word into her iPad. The adrenaline burst made both her head and chest feel as if they were going to explode when the image of a shoe-boot with a studded nail sole appeared on her screen. Calceus was, in fact, a shoe. Claire was fairly certain that the Jesse Winslow she knew in the here and now had never heard the word or used the word calceus before. Heck, she’d never heard of it. She couldn’t wait to throw that one out to Marshall and see if it was in his formidable vocabulary.
“Please, describe them to me, Jesse.” She tried to stop her hand from shaking so that she could take notes.
“Brown sheep’s hide with a hob nail sole.”
Sheep’s hide. Interesting, she thought. “Now, tell me what else you are wearing.”
“A toga.”
“A toga?” she spontaneously repeated, hearing the surprise in her own voice. “When and where are you?”
“I am a citizen of Rome.”
“What year is it, Jesse?”
He squirmed on the couch, but did not answer.
“Are you in the common era? Is this A.D.?” she queried again.
Shaking his head, he still didn’t answer.
“Who is ruling Rome?” Claire took a different tact.
“Octavian,” he was quick to answer.
“Augustus Caesar?” Claire was actually amused by the shock in her own voice.
“Yes. That name has been bestowed upon him. But I know who he really is.” Jesse’s lip curled up in a sneer.
This man was definitely not a supporter of the Emperor Augustus. “Who are you? Can you tell me your name?” she probes.
“Gaius Alexander Antonius.”
“Gaius.” Again, there was surprise in Claire’s tone. “Gaius,” she repeated. “Are you related to the Caesar family?”
Jesse laughed a deep, throaty laugh, very different from his own. “Madame, I can assure you that all of civilized Rome is related.”
“Civilized Rome?” she questioned.
“Members of society,” he clarified. He was now sitting up on the couch, his spine straight, his bearing almost regal.
“What can you tell me about yourself, Gaius?”
“I am a soldier,” his response was clipped.
“Whose army are you with?”
“Octavian’s.”
“Based on your name, I would have assumed Mark Antony’s.” Claire culled her brain quickly for history lessons long ago learned, hoping she was in the right timeframe.
Jesse’s face screwed up, as if he were in pain. “He is gone.” It was a mere whisper.
“And where are you.”
“Returning from war with the Gauls.”
“I see,” Claire commented. “Are you returning to Rome?”
“I am journeying to Vico Equense.”
“Where is that?” She began to Google quickly.
“Bay of Naples,” he answered quicker than she could type.
“Why are you going there, Gaius?”
“To be with Julia. That is where Julia is.”
Julia. Julia. Her name is the sweet scent of the first spring flowers on the breeze. Honeysuckle and bees. The fragrance. Their buzz. Julia. And following the early days, the equinox nipping at its heels was always summer and Julia.
The ride from Gaul had been arduous. The mountain passes icy and treacherous at the higher elevations and then muddy, and no less precarious, descending the lower peaks.
But finally, I am home in Italy, and once again, close to Julia. News of her husband’s death reached camp before the first snows, a time that I know Julia was heavy with child from him. Later, I would learn of her son was born posthumously.
I am greeted at the villa by the old servant, Seneca, who has known me since boyhood. There is comfort in the new wrinkles of his skin.
“How is she?” I ask.
“Sad. Tired. Overwhelmed with both grief at her loss and joy of the baby’s health. Your presence will be a great salve.”
“Where is she?” I cannot wait another minute to see her. This time it truly has been years. Nine years. Not attending her last wedding, her second, my mix of emotions exacted a toll. Knowing her father would marry her off again, after the death of her first husband, was no surprise. The second time, marrying her to a man double her age, and my former commander, was a little more of a shock. But, as always, the move satisfied his political agenda and thwarted a toppling of his power. Julia was always his pawn. His beautiful, engaging pawn, collateral to retain all he held dear. Rome was his one true lover, and my goal was to finally set this situation right, now that her second husband had passed.
Seneca points through the loggia and I head toward columns that stand like sentinels, silently telling the tale of Julia’s lineage and tumultuous life. Leaning against the cold marble, it is nearly impossible to control the beating of my heart as I capture a first glance down the rocky slope to the Bay of Naples. The late day sun shrouds her and I squint, then rub my eyes, it must be an illusion, because I see a golden glow surrounding her.
My memory wanders back to what feels like only yesterday, being entranced by her as a child. Summers where we would chase one another through olive groves and I would follow the fiery mane flying like a fine woven carpet behind her. It’s golden saffron hue standing out in relief from the gnarled bark and spindly leaves of the ancient olive trees. The gold in her locks is directly inherited from her father. The flame color, I’m not sure. Maybe from within, because that is distinctly Julia, fiery witted and tempered, four seasons flashing by in a mere moment, making those around her always wonder who will show, the heat of deep summer or the icy touch of winter.
Navigating down the rocks to the beach, I stand there as she wanders in the other direction, her back still to me. Smiling, I know she will turn at any moment, she’ll feel my presence even though I am quite a length away. Julia always knew when I was there. And I her. Time apart had never dulled this, and still would not, of that I am certain.
It takes only a heartbeat. As I knew it would. We feel one another’s presence. It has always been that way. For as long as I can remember. She spins, the fine pale silk of her stola swirls about her, and it is as if she’s rising from the ocean mist, a siren no truer than she.
Even at a distance, I can see her smile. And we both begin running. Pumping the muscles in my legs to move faster atop the sinking sand, time has become an evil imp, slowing to a crawl, extending the seconds into millennia until she has returned to me. Back in my arms again.
“Gaius.” She barely has any breath left.
I feel her tears and tighten my hold. “I am so sorry it has taken me this long to get to you. I heard the news.”
Lifting her face to look at me, “He was a good man. He truly cared for me and took good care of me.”
“For that, I have always been thankful.”
“You came for me.” Her eyes mist over.
“Immediately, and without hesitation.” I repeat the words I had spoken to her nearly a decade before.
It has been understood through both her marriages that I have only wanted the best for her. As her father has married her off, we have both faced the harsh truth that despite previous familial arrangements, the historical warring of our houses would always preclude our betrothal. Throughout the years, her father has grown to take me on as an ally and trusted officer in his army, but to marry his daughter, well, the familial scars burned a crevice too deep to allow what he once sanctioned among our families. My goal is to mend that and reverse his decision, allow her to finally be mine.
Julia and I always understood the difference between obligation and heart. Although our hearts have remained cloaked, because the discovery of the truth would be punishable only by death, no one has, or ever will, replace the other, to dwell deep in our hearts.
••••••
I was eleven when we met. She was a mere seven and rather precocious.
“I am betrothed to your older brother,” she advised me. “So, do not look at me that way.”
Our fathers, who were still allies at the time, had struck the deal to bring our houses together when Julia was only two.
“How am I looking at you?” I challenged her.
“Like I belong to you.”
This girl was wise beyond her years. Even back then.
“Well, maybe you do.” I advised her, leaning in to place a chaste kiss on her cheek and forever marking my territory.
With my brother’s execution as a result of my father’s treason, Julia was freed of a betrothal until she was twelve. My heart was all over the place, shattered by the loss of my brother, guilty and elated that she would not be giving herself to him. But with blood now spilled between families, her father never would have allowed her to be wed to me.
The summer prior to her being wed for the first time, was the first summer spent apart. I rode my first campaign to the eastern states returning just weeks before the nuptials. Her fourteenth birthday had just passed and her betrothed was sixteen, two years younger than I.
Finding Julia on the western edge of the olive groves that day, wandering, I watched from afar as she floated amongst the rutted trunks, seemingly in her own world. Stopping abruptly, she turned in my direction. My heart slammed still in that moment, as I felt our energies connect. Lifting the draped fabric of her stola, she began to run in my direction, flinging her body through the air and into my arms, somehow knowing I would catch her.
“Gaius, it is you. And you are well.” She had covered my cheeks with small kisses.
“Of course, I am well. I am invincible,” I whisper, drawing her head to my chest and burying my nose in her golden flame curls. She smelled of the sea and the salty sting I felt in my eyes was accompanied by visions of our previous childhood summers together. “Did you not expect my return?”
“I do not expect anything anymore.” Julia looked forlorn.
“So jaded at such a young age,” I laughed. “What brings on this melancholia, my dear friend.”
“I am to be married, Gaius.”
“Yes. I am aware.” I worked hard at making it sound as if it were unimportant to me. No good could come of the truth.
But Julia, being Julia, was not going to let this sleeping dog lie.
“I have always dreamed,” she began, turning her face from me as a lone tear trailed her cheek.
“Dreams are frivolous, Julia.” I put her down so that her feet were once again on the ground and our eyes no longer mere inches apart.
“I just always thought it would be you.”
“You know that will never be possible with the state of our families. Now that your father has defeated mine, there is no political advantage to our union.” Taking Julia’s hand, we began to walk past the grove onto the sloping hillside leading to the bay.
“Is that the only worth of a daughter? Marriage to solidify a position? Gain political clout?”
“You are like a coveted jewel, my friend.”
Stopping abruptly, Julia placed her hand over my heart, “This jewel cares only to be worn by one man, as a permanent part of his armor, soldier.” Tracing a circle on my chest, “Carefully set deep into his breastplate, protecting his heart.”
Taking her hand from my chest and grabbing her free hand, I bring her soft palms to my lips, bestowing a kiss on each one. “Julia,” I whispered. I wanted to tell her again that we can never be.
“Gaius, listen to me, please,” she begged, cutting me off. Not looking away, I feel the force of her convictions and the strength of all she is. “I have yet to lie with a man and soon that will be expected of me, with this stranger my father brings forth. He is a child, not a man. I do not want to give myself to him. Why should I give myself to him?”
“Because he will be your husband and that is your duty.”
Shaking her head, she informed me, “It is what my father wants for selfish reasons. It is not what I want.”
“Julia, his reasons are not selfish. He gives you to another because he seeks to maintain peace for Rome.”
“And I seek to bear your children and have them run through these sun-dappled groves laughing as we chase them on warm summer afternoons. I seek to make you a fine military and political wife and aid you in climbing the ranks of Rome’s leadership. I seek to grow old with you and someday lie together as bones within the marble confines of the family crypt. This is what I seek, Gaius.”
Shaking my head, “Julia, no. You are to be married. It has been so decreed.”
“He will not take me,” she declared with the obstinate defiance of one on the verge of adulthood.
“Then who shall?” My laughter at the absurdity ignites her anger’s flair.
“Beyond you, do you think anyone else will say no?”
Closing my eyes, I know she is right. “Why won’t you just wait for your marriage?”
“Because I want my vow to be to you, right here, right now, Gaius. No matter what Roman law proclaims, my heart, allegiance and love will always be pledged to you. Your seed will be the first to enter my body and claim it. That is forever.”
Pulling her to me, the raw silk of her stola puddled at her feet as I pushed it roughly from her shoulders, exposing the thin linen tunic that caressed her smooth, unblemished skin.
“I’ve wanted to do what is right,” my voice was gruff, choked with emotion and lust.
“This, my only love. This is right.” Julia’s breath had become ragged with desire.
I know what she speaks is truth. I’ve lived to protect her from the time we were young, and not just because it was my sworn duty as a citizen of Rome, and later, as a member of her father’s army, but because she was always mine to protect–a self-decreed army of one, protecting a secret, priceless treasure, one that I always knew would be robbed from me. So, I did what was best–I buried the treasure, far, far away from my heart, convincing myself it never actually existed.
“Julia.” Her small face was in my palms as I searched her eyes. With my fingers entwined in her hair, my control was gone. Years of pent-up lust, knowing she would never, ever be mine and here she stood before me, begging me to claim her, take her womanhood as a prize that only I will possess, forever.
My lips were not soft against hers as I forced her mouth open with my tongue and began an exploration that left us both breathless. She wanted to be taken by a man, not a boy, and I would give her that truth. Lifting her tunic over her head, I had her stand before me, naked in the afternoon’s sun.
“Down,” I commanded and she knelt before me.
Parting my toga, my hardness stood out before her and I reveled in her slight gasp.
“I will teach you to please me.”
With wide eyes, she silently nodded.
“Give me your hands.”
Raising her hands to me, I took them in mine, placing one at the base of my scrotum and the other around my shaft. “Squeeze with that hand and stroke me with this one,” I instructed her and this time it was my turn to gasp as she instinctively knew how to pleasure me.
Putting one hand at the back of her head and the other over hers, I guided myself into her mouth, her exquisite, precocious mouth. Her eyes looked up, initially flashing anger, but the sounds emanating from deep in her throat sang a different song, one of love and lust. Soon it was not I moving her head as she took control of the rhythm and depth of her sucking.
“Oh, my sweet Julia.” Her sucking was pulling me to the edge and I feared I would confess my full feelings to her. To claim what we both wanted would be tantamount to treason, to act upon it, punishable by death. Yet, here we were, throwing caution to the wind and doing just that.
Pulling her gently from me, I laid her down on the grass, joining her.
“This may be our only time,” I advised her, reaching out for a saffron curl and allowing it to slide through my fingers.
Nodding, her eyes fill with tears. “Then, dear Gaius, it will be my only true time in life.”
“That is not what I want for you.” I am pained hearing her words. “I want your happiness.”
“Nothing will reach the depths of joy my heart is experiencing right here. Right now.” Her tone was adamant.
Dropping her curl, I cupped her cheek, my thumb softly caressing what feels like infant’s skin. “Julia, you have a lifetime before you to learn the true depths of love. For your husband. For your children. For their children. I am merely part of your past.”
Stopping my hand mid-caress, her blue eyes were the color at the base of a flame, glowing hot anger. “If you ever expect to survive my father’s army and someday return to me, you must learn to be a much better liar, Gaius. You are my past. My present. My future. And my forever. You know that. And I know that. And we have both known it our entire lives.”
Her words sucked away the air surrounding me, leaving me breathless and speechless. For one so young, Julia was a force to contend with and I knew for certain that if I was to ever be a warrior strong enough to own such a brave and noble heart, then I must be man enough to speak the truth.
“Wherever this life takes me, whomever I lie with and bear children, it is because that is the fate we have been handed and not what I hold deepest in my heart either, Julia. There is only room for one person at that depth, and that is you. Never, ever doubt that you are my one true heart and that will be you for all eternity. If today is the only day we come together, then it will always be what I hold as the best day of my life. Do you understand that?”
Nodding, “Gaius, I want to know all of you.” And slowly she began to disrobe me of my toga.
When I finally laid naked before her, she affectionately ran her hand slowly over my muscles, her touch light and tender in spots, while rough and kneading in others. Watching her small hand take such masterful control caught me by surprise, heightening my arousal and desire for her more than I had ever let myself dare to imagine.
With my lips to hers and her small body molded beneath me on the ground of our ancestors, I whispered the only truth I had ever known, “Julia, never will I allow another your place in my heart. Only you shall dwell there as the mistress and sole proprietor. At the moment of my death, I will only have one wish and that is of finding you again, somewhere, someplace, sometime, somehow.”
Pulling my mouth to hers, I felt her lips and thighs part simultaneously, her invitation clear that I was to enter her home. That I am to make it my home. Julia is my one true home.
Three weeks later, she was married. I was heading on campaign to Aquitaine when the news reached us. It was nearly a year later when we learned of the death of her infant son, living for just a few days after his early arrival. To not be able to go to Julia, to be there for her and hold her through her grief was the hardest battle that I’d ever faced, and ultimately lost. My heart knew that this was ours to share together, and yet, by this time, I was stationed faraway, in the region of Achaea, making a hasty return not possible, and inappropriate, as she was now wed to another. Alone, we grieved together.
No armor can protect the holes in my chest
I hold your precious jewel tight to my breastplate
Praying for the healing properties of its energy
To make me whole again
To make you whole again
Scribing these words in my leather-bound journal, I mourned deeply for all that I could not control, all that I could not make right. I mourned the death of moments that would never exist.
Another year had not passed when word arrived again, this time bearing news of Julia’s husband, who was taken by a fever. Requesting leave from my unit, I began a six-week journey back to Rome, filled with plots and fantasies of how we two could finally be together.
I had risen through the ranks of her father’s army. My hope was that as a decorated officer, and a member of Roman society, that the blight between our families would finally be obliterated and I could be free to fulfill the berth once promised to my older brother, as that of Julia’s husband.
But my arrival in Rome was to hold many surprises.
Riding into town, although my heart ached to find Julia, I knew that as an honorable man and soldier, I needed to first gain an audience with her father. So, I headed straightaway to Palatine Hill, taking a moment to sit back in my saddle and gather my thoughts before entering the great colonnaded entrance to his home.
As grand as it was, he lived more modestly than men who were of a lesser stature, shunning the times’ ostentation. As I walked the fresco-lined portico toward his residence, I could not help but note the simple beauty in rich crimson and gold paintings that lined the verandah and how starkly they contrasted to the barrenness of the field tents I called home.
His house servants had known me from early childhood and allowed me entrance and permission to proceed unattended through to his residence. As I approached my destination, I continued my inner dialogue of the case I planned on presenting to him for Julia’s hand. So deep in my own thoughts was I involved, that initially I did not hear the laughter and familiar voices emanating from his chamber ahead. Reaching the entranceway, I was shocked into stillness, surprised to find Agrippa, my commanding officer, sharing good cheer with her father. They were both startled by my appearance.
“Antonius.” Agrippa was clearly surprised.
“Gaius, you are in Rome,” her father announced, clapping me on the back.
“This young man has quickly risen through the ranks in my regime,” Agrippa boasted. “There is a familial talent for warring that he possesses.”
“Perhaps I should watch him more closely.” Her father squinted at me and both men laughed.
“Gaius, now that you are back in Rome, you must join us for the festivities.”
Looking to Agrippa, I am not sure to what he referred. There was no holiday taking place.
“I don’t think the young man has heard the news yet.”
“You have arrived just in time, young Gaius, to attend my nuptials to the beautiful Julia. We are to be married in two days’ time.”
Certain was I that the front of my toga was stained the same crimson as her father’s walls because I felt my heart burst. I heard the popping sound ricochet through my eardrums and reverberate throughout my brain like a hollow scream.
This time her father was giving her to a man so powerful that it was his only way to ensure he maintained power as it could be passed to Julia’s male heirs. Agrippa, although of no noble blood, truly made sense. My commanding officer was a man whom I admired greatly, and had played a key role in my military success and advancement. Agrippa, a man twenty-five years my senior would soon lie with Julia, filling her with his seed.
“Congratulations, sir. That is wonderful news,” I lied.
“You will join us,” her father informed me. “I will have a place set for you at my table. You have been like family to Julia her whole life.”
Nodding my assent, “I’d be honored.” I died a little with my lie. Like family? I am her heart. I am her only true family.
“Are you here for long?” her father asked.
“Just a brief visit.”
I already felt as if I’d overstayed my time in Rome, a time that now included the death of my dream before even sharing it with Julia. Something I could now never do. Agrippa was a good man and I tried to find solace in knowing he would treat her well and protect her.
Leaving the men behind, I made haste to her villa, hoping for what may be our last conversation. Met at the entrance by her servant, Seneca, the older man’s greeting took me by surprise. “Let me take you to her. Your presence will set her heart free.”
Entering her receiving room, although Julia’s back was to me, I could tell by the straightening of her spine that she felt my energy. Without even turning around to see who had arrived, she dismissed her chambermaid immediately, demanding the door be closed. The younger woman, a stranger to me, began to protest, and Seneca dispatched her immediately.
We stood on opposite corners of the lavish room, silently observing one another as if we were taking in a vision to hold in our mind’s eye forever. Opening my arms, she crossed to me, my tiny titian-haired beauty, who was no longer the girl I left, but very much a woman. I momentarily grieved for that innocent child, until she reached my arms, and the woman I held immediately pulled from my heart the pain I did not even know had latched onto it so deeply. For a moment, the burden was removed as I existed only in the here and now, entranced by the lavender scent of her hair and the way her body molded perfectly with mine, as I felt the race of her heart through the thin silk of her stola. Only one word came to mind. Complete.
Pulling her face away from my chest, she peered up and again I was lost as I searched her eyes.
“I came to you as fast as I could.” My words and actions felt inadequate. “But I fear it was not fast enough,” I paused. “I have just come from your father’s.”
“You went to him first?”
“My intent was to convince him to let us marry. But when I arrived, he was not alone. The general was present and I was informed that you were to be married.”
With a forlorn smile, she whispered, “But you came for me.”
“Yes, I did. Immediately, and without hesitation.”
Nodding, “He will take good care of me, Gaius. Please, rest your mind at ease.”
“My mind will be at ease, Julia. He is a strong, fair, and just man. But my heart will never bear that same solace. He will grow older with you, fill you with children, protect you. He will take my place in what I know, with all my being, is rightfully mine. My head and my heart are at odds, but I need to accept this marriage and all the safety it brings to you. For that, I am grateful.”
Nodding again, but remaining silent, Julia appeared to be deep in thought. “He was beautiful,” she began and looked up into my eyes. “He had the dimple you have in your chin and his little eyebrows were a pale copper.”
My son. Our child. She confirmed what I had known instinctively. The creation from our one and only union. Taking her face in my hands, I rested my forehead to hers as hot tears streamed from her eyes.
“He was beautiful, Gaius,” she repeated and my hold on her body tightened. How can I lose her again? I feel the pain of losing a son whose face I would never know and the burden of letting her go again is much too much to bear as I sank to my knees taking her with me in my arms.
I don’t know how long we stayed that way, quiet and tangled, but the sun’s stream on the floor had moved partially across the room. When Julia finally looked up at me, she was smiling and there was happiness in her eyes. “You came for me.”
“Always, my love,” I assured.
“That’s all that matters. You came for me.”
We fell back into an easy silence, wrapped up in one another’s arms, still in the middle of the floor. Absentmindedly allowing a lock of Julia’s hair to run through my fingers as dusk began to claim the sky with a soft palette of colors, I broke the silence.
“Your father asked me to join him at his table for your wedding.”
“Will you be his guest?”
Shaking my head, “No. It’s best if I ride out of town. There is solace in knowing you are safe and will be well looked after, but it is too much to ask me to watch you given away to another man.”
“I understand, Gaius. And I need you to know that I want you to be happy and I will accept your decisions in finding that happiness.”
She was letting me go.
Fate has not been kind to us.
Riding out of Rome that night, alone, it was almost impossible to fathom that I had lost so much in less than a day’s time. Which part of the loss cut the deepest, was difficult to discern, but I had the distinct feeling that it was the death of a dream that would have the most lasting and devastating impact.
••••••
The wind off the bay whips the sand around us as I hold her close. Her body is still full and soft from the birth of her last child, this son born after his father’s death. A child Agrippa will never know, just as I never knew the son Julia bore me so many years before.
Holding her in my arms plays tricks with time. It feels like yesterday.
“Have you seen my father,” she asks.
Shaking my head, “No, this time I came straight to you.” The memory of last time still bitter.
“He has plans,” she advises.
And I see fear in her eyes.
“His wife is plotting for power and he is listening to her, Gaius.”
I know her father’s wife well, and she has always been threatened by Julia’s relationship with her father. “What is she plotting?”
“Arranging for me to marry her son, so that my father’s power will transfer to him.”
“He’s married.” I refer to Julia’s stepbrother.
“Yes, they are pushing him to divorce, so that he may marry me. I don’t trust him, Gaius. I don’t trust that he will not kill me. Kill my sons.” With her latest birth, Julia has three sons, providing a powerful line for succession of family power.
Julia’s fear is not unfounded. Her stepbrother is an ill-tempered and abusive lout who has always treated her poorly. With her marriage to Agrippa, I knew she was with a good man who would treat her kindly. But her stepbrother would cause reason to fear for Julia’s life. My arrival was not a moment too soon.
Convincing her father a marriage to me would be advantageous was going to be difficult, if not impossible, but I could not let this man marry into a position where he would have control over Julia’s life. The ending chapters of that story were clearly written and the final outcome would not be happy. One did not need to be a seer to foretell that future.
“Together we will convince your father to let us marry. I would gladly abdicate rule to your sons, to protect power within the lineage.”
“But his wife, she is pushing her own bloodlines and my father is listening.”
“We will have to convince him.” I walk with Julia along the beach back toward a stone-stepped path up the cliffs.
The villa is quiet when we enter and I have the distinct feeling Seneca has cleared everyone out so that Julia and I may reacquaint properly.
“I feel self-conscious around you,” she admits. “I’m not that young girl of the last time we came together and I’ve just had another child.”
Sitting her on the edge of her bed, I stand before her. “You are more beautiful than I’d remembered. The wild child I once knew has blossomed into a magnificent woman. One who I cannot wait another moment to plunder.”
“With my father’s plans to marry me to my stepbrother he will view this as adultery,” she warned.
“Then I am an adulterer.”
Pushing her back down onto the bed, I do not even bother to remove her stola. Pushing the fabric up, the first time I take her, I am rough, taking both what I need and want. I have waited for her to be mine again and I spend the night marking her as if she were my property. By the morning’s first light, we are spent, yet still not sated.
“No man has ever claimed me so completely.” Her head rests on my chest, her hand still wrapped around me, stroking me to hardness again. “I will now always crave what you have done to me.” And then in a whisper, “Like an animal.” Together, we laugh.
Our passion is carnal, we are one another’s true match, challenging, taunting, tormenting, and pushing one another to heights so precarious that as we topple together, the pulsating crash is staggering. I have made sure no one will ever be able to satisfy her again. Driving her up and down on me, time after time, I have reached depths in all places she has to offer, and taken what is mine, and always has been. This woman is more entrenched in my soul than my most steadfast of allegiances, bound by blood spilled between our families and a firstborn who should have been the heir to Rome’s greatness and a testament to devotion that goes above and beyond love.
••••••
Waiting in his chambers for her father’s arrival, I am not altogether surprised by a visit from his wife.
Shooing her handmaiden from the room, she sits down next to me, smiling. I had never noticed the sharpness of her canine teeth, giving her an almost feral appearance and robbing her of being a great beauty.
“Your return is a surprise.”
“Is it?”
“Very much so.” She regards me. “You’ve inherited your father’s looks. I always respected him.” She laughed, “Not that I could make that known.” Her hand now rests in my lap, her fingertips gently stroking my thigh through the material of my toga. Wasting no time, she continues, “With your military accomplishments and your fine stature, you are certain to quickly climb the ranks right here in Rome, Gaius. Is that your plan? Remain in Rome as you rise to prominence?”
“You seem to have spent some time pondering the course of my life.” I do not trust this woman. Without her father protecting her, this harpy will have Julia either exiled or executed.
“You’re not really here for Julia, are you?” Digging her nails into my thigh, she bares her pointy incisors. “You’re here for my husband. You’re here to rule Rome.”
Laughing, I remove her hand from my leg, “You need to spend more time out in the provinces,” I advise. “There’s too much intrigue in this city. It makes everyone paranoid. Go, get some fresh air.”
“You will never get what you want,” she threatens.
“What I want is to take Julia from here. Leave you Rome.”
“You are an Anthony by birth. Your ambitions run too deep. That girl is merely a pawn used to sway the prevailing winds of power.”
I’m sick listening to her. Her influence over Julia’s father will destroy us all.
“My son will rule Rome,” she hisses in a harsh whisper only I can hear. “Even if he has to marry that wretched girl.”
Staring into the vacuous hollows of her Mediterranean-colored eyes, it is abundantly clear that our only move in this horrid game of chess is to take out the king, for we await certain death if we do not. If we make this bold attempt and do not succeed, a worse fate will be certain to fall upon us.
••••••
The nursemaid takes the baby from Julia’s arms as I stalk around her chamber. Our fate appears bleak, with few good options to remain together. I would leave Julia’s side and promise to not return, never hold her again, if I knew she would not fall to the hands of abuse. But we both know, if her stepmother gets her way, she will be married to her stepbrother, and her descent into Hell will be rapid.
Dismissing the woman from the room, Julia sits on the edge of the bed. “Gaius, come to me.”
Sitting next to her, I reach for a lock of her titian hair, letting the silken strands slide slowly through my fingers.
“We have no choice,” she whispers. “We must kill my father.”
I can clearly see her pain as she voices our only alternative. I remain silent.
“Rule will pass to my sons and with my father gone, I will no longer be under patriarchal control. We’ll be free to marry. With your connections, you can raise an army against my stepbrother. You will handily defeat him.”
Reaching forward, I run my fingertips down her cheek. I know she’s right, but say, “Maybe your father will protect you.”
Sadly, she shakes her head, “If he wanted to protect me, he wouldn’t be handing me over to that psychotic beast because his power-hungry wife wants to rule Rome. He has chosen that woman over his blood, and my fate, if I am to marry my stepbrother,” she paused and looked up at the ceiling, as tears sealing our fate coursed down her cheeks. “If married to him, death will be something I wish for every minute of every day because he will make my life a living hell, and sadistically enjoy every second of his torture.”
Having known her stepbrother my entire life and well aware of his feelings for Julia, I knew she wasn’t exaggerating. “How shall we do this?” I can’t believe I’m voicing the words.
“Poison.”
“Who will administer?”
“I will,” Julia understands her obligation and that it has come to the point of her survival or his.
Taking her in my arms, “We could take the children and leave.”
“Is that what you want?” She knows that is not what I want. I am a soldier. I fight and I win. “I will do this with a heavy heart.”
That night we lie together, our lovemaking slow and sweet, unlike our usual carnal fervor, as if making a memory that would need to carry us for millennia. Sadness permeated every movement that night in our bed. Each touch was marred by the pain of loss, the realization that we were never fated to love freely and without pain. Our lives would always be secondary, overshadowed by the needs of Rome, where we remained but bit players as the tragedy unfolded.
“No,” Jesse screamed. “No, take me. Leave her. Take me. I am the guilty one.”
“Gaius, tell me what you are seeing,” Claire implored, as she watched the shallow breathing of her client.
“They know of our plot. They’ve come to arrest us. They’re dragging Julia out. We’re being separated. No!” There is a staccato cadence to his statements. “No. No. No. This is my fault. Let her go. She was not complicit. She knew nothing. I did this for power. I’m trying so hard to protect her.” Pulling at his hair, his eyes are moist with tears.
“What is happening to you. Describe to me what is going on.”
“The Senate has convicted me of treason. The punishment is death. Either execution or suicide. Her father has chosen suicide for me. He wants her to watch. He wants her to be there to see me die at my own hand.”
“No. No. No. No.” He screamed, his wail sounding more like that of a wounded animal left at the roadside to die than that of a human. “No. Please, don’t make her watch me. I know this is going to destroy her. To punish her this way, the vision of my death scorched in her mind and heart for the rest of her days, while she is sentenced to a slow death, knowing her protector is gone, that I will no longer come for her. With my own hand, I create the dual sins of taking my own life and condemning her to the damnation of the rest of her days. Please, don’t make her watch as I rob her heart of hope. I will soon be with our son, yet my damnation will be eternal for I failed to protect my only love. I failed her and left her behind to be tortured at the grip of evil.”
Claire cringed. “And Julia, what has happened to Julia?”
“She was married off to him and he’s called for her exile to Pandanteria after my death. She will die out there. He knows that. It is just a volcanic rock in the ocean. She will starve and die out there. No one returns. No one ever returns. I could not protect her. I should have done more to protect her.” With splayed fingers, he runs his hands through his hair, pulling at the spiky strands with frustration.
“Jesse,” she called him by his current name. “Jesse, I’m going to count to three. When I reach three, you will come out of your hypnotic state. You will be able to remember everything, but you will be here, safe in my office. Are you ready? One. Two. Three.”
The rise of his shoulders immediately deflated as his head lolled to his chest, his breathing shallow and fast as if he’d just stopped running.
“Jesse,” Claire’s tone was sharp. “Jesse, take some deep, cleansing breaths.”
Following her directive, he breathed in deeply and removed the RGB glasses on his exhale, flinging them onto the couch next to him.
“That was insane. That was freaking insane.” Putting his face in his hands, he shook his head. “I don’t even know where to begin with that. I was there. I was in Rome in the first century B.C. I was in fucking Rome, Dr. S.” Putting his hand over his heart, still panting as the adrenaline coursed through his veins, the pain in his eyes was deafening. “Julia. Oh, God, Julia. I tried to save her. To take the blame so that she would be spared. We got caught. It was that fucking nursemaid. She was spying on us. Her father’s wife had placed the woman there.” Catching his breath momentarily as visions continued to flood in, “And then they made her watch me fall on my sword. God, how brutally cruel. That horrible little shit made her watch me die because he knew how much it would hurt her. We should have killed the whole lot of them.”
Remaining silent, Claire waited for Jesse to calm down.
But he didn’t calm. “We should have killed them,” he yelled. “We should have killed them all.” His rage was real. Pulling at his spiky hair, “Oh, God, Dr. S. what am I saying? It’s so hard to separate. That was like two thousand years ago. Two thousand.” He shook his head, a look of disbelief on his face. “My heart is ripping apart. I want to go to her. I want to save her. But it’s not now. And she’s not here. I didn’t protect her. How did I not see what we really needed to do? How did I miss the whole picture?”
“What did you need to do, Jesse?” Claire’s voice was soothing.
Looking up, he stared her in the eye. A sneer overtaking his lips. That beautiful rock-star sneer, the one that she could feel like a live wire placed high between her thighs, jolting her. Until he spoke, and then her blood ran cold. “I should have killed her father, her stepbrother, and her stepmother. That was my mistake, that I did not murder them all.”
They sat in silence, the air in her office heavy, not moving, until Jesse began to speak again. This time calmer. He smiled and Claire could tell he was seeing something in his mind’s eye. “That’s how deeply I loved her. She was part of my soul, from the time we were kids. So, I guess I can love. Or I could love.” Again he lapsed into silence, his head nodding with internal thoughts. “I failed at protecting her. Her faith was all in me. I’m sick at how deeply I loved her and how epically I failed her. There’s a steep price to loving that deeply.”
“You were playing chess in a game that was less than honorable.” Claire brought reason back to the conversation.
“And we were checkmated.”
“Yes, you were.” Putting her iPad down on her desk, “This is a lot to process. I think we should spend our next few sessions looking at parallels and aspects that we think might have lingered to influence current patterns in your life.”
“Not to be rude, Doc, but I’ve gotta get out of here. I need air. I’ve gotta head down to L9 and work out or something.” And grabbing his jacket, Jesse Winslow was out the door.
Patient: Jesse Winslow
Session # 38
Date: 2/18/15
Regression # 8
Regression Length: 10:11 A.M.–10:53 A.M.
Entity: Gaius Antonius
Location: Rome
Year: 1st Century BC