The Mistress
“Nothing. I have nothing more important than you,” Tante Elle said, and Laila had imagined her aunt covering his lips with her hand to playfully shut him up. She did that to him as often as he did it to her.
“Eleanor, please, let me thank you for doing this for me. I’ll feel better.”
“There’s nothing to thank me for. Not coming wasn’t even an option. You should know that by now.”
A long pause followed, a long and painful silence. Laila had to cover her mouth to silence her crying.
“She loved you, Little One. You know that, don’t you?”
“I know. I loved her, too. I think she even liked me. More than my own mother does, anyway, which isn’t saying much.”
“She certainly liked me more than your mother does.”
“Again, not saying much.”
Tante Elle laughed then and it heartened Laila. Such a laugh...it woke the angels up.
“My mother has terrible taste in men. She loved my father. She hates you.”
“You left me. What does that say about your taste in men?”
“It could use some work.”
“Come back to me,” he said, and Laila heard the agony in his voice. “You don’t have to stay away anymore. You never did.”
“It’s such a risk, Søren. Any second now we could get caught. The stories are in the newspapers every day, some priest falling from grace.”
“You’re worth the risk, and you are my grace.”
“I can’t be responsible for ruining your life. I won’t be.”
“Even if they did find out about us and excommunicated me, my life could never be a ruin, not with you in it.”
“I can’t come back...I just can’t. I worked so hard for what I have.”
“You wouldn’t have to give it up, any of it.”
“You say that and I want to believe you. But I remember how it was. I couldn’t even cut my hair without getting your permission. I don’t know if I could go back to that.”
“You miss it.”
“I miss you.”
“You promised me forever.”
“I was fifteen when I promised you forever. And you promised me everything the same day. I can no more keep my promise than you can keep yours.”
“You won’t let me keep it.”
“Because I love you too much. You stupid, infuriating man, why do I love you this much?”
Silence followed again. What could they be doing in there? Laila hoped it was kissing or hugging or something. Anything. Their pain hurt so much worse than her own. For years she longed to join the Enchanted Kingdom of Adulthood, that world where people like her aunt and uncle lived and loved and no one told them what to do. But here they were, two people madly in love with each other and they couldn’t be together. The unfairness of it felt like a bruise on her heart. He could no more leave the church than her aunt could quit writing or breathing. It would be suicide for a man who’d found his true calling. She couldn’t ask him to leave it. But unless he left it, she couldn’t go back. Why...why did anyone think there was any sin in the two of them loving each other? How could anyone who saw them together think they did anything wrong? How could God create two people so perfect for each other and then force them to stay apart? God was a sadist. No doubt in her mind.
No wonder her uncle loved Him so much.
“We’re a mess,” her aunt finally said, breaking the silence. “Look at us. Your mother is being buried tomorrow, and all we can do is fight the same old fight.”
“I’d rather fight with you than bury her.”
“Me, too. But I’m sure we can find something better to do than fight.”
“It’s hard to stay calm right now, Little One. Help me.”
“That’s why I’m here. I came here for you. Come to bed now. Hurt me. I want you to.”
“I don’t know if I can control myself enough tonight.”
Laila remembered holding her breath during the silence that followed before her aunt started to speak again.
“Then don’t. I know you’re hurting. Don’t be afraid to hurt me, too. I know you want to let go. Let go with me. You need comfort. Let me comfort you with my body. Lose yourself inside me. Forget what you’ve lost, forget what you can’t have. There’s no shame in trying to forget for a night even if you know you’ll remember in the morning.”
* * *
Laila blinked and tears fell onto the sheets. Wesley reached out and wiped them off her cheek with his thumb.
“I think I learned what sex was that night,” Laila said. “I mean, I learned what it should be.”
“And what is that?” Wes asked, his fingers lingering on her face.
“A gift. A gift you give someone you care about. A consolation, a comfort, even a distraction, but always a gift. I didn’t listen after that. I made sure I didn’t hear any more. I read her books. I know what happens with people like them in private. I didn’t need to hear. But I’m glad I heard that much so I know...I know that love is giving yourself to someone else. Giving yourself to someone without losing yourself.”
Laila knew she’d remember those words all her life. Let go with me. Let me comfort you with my body...there’s no shame in forgetting for a night even if you know you’ll remember in the morning.
They sounded like a poem to her, like a vow.
“No one loves like Nora loves,” Wes said. “I wish I knew how she did it, how she could love so hard and still stay sane.”