The Conversation
      Chapter 8
 

Danny shoots her a look of unbelievability, but that look quickly subsides as she moves herself around. She props pillows up in the middle of the bed at his feet so she can face him without being too uncomfortable.

"Do you need help, honey?"

"No, I've got it…"

She grunts as she finally sits down, feeling as though she's sixteen months pregnant instead of six. She finally settles and rubs her tummy as he smiles proudly at this exquisite creature that, for some reason, loves him.

"She's gonna be a feisty one… I just know it."

She flashes him a twinkle that could launch every ship he has. How he loves those eyes… the eyes that can tell stories, recite poems, and sing symphonies when the light hits them just right.

"Uh oh…you know, after this little one's born, we better get started on her little brother… I'm gonna be needing some back-up here."

His laughter permeates the room as he glides his hand up her thigh and rests it on her knee. She loves how he touches her, so gently, as though her skin is crystallized in the perfect shape to compliment his affection. She sighs happily at his smile, a heavenly vision that she rarely was afforded in their earlier times together; but one that she's grown to memorize and dream of when the curse of separation falls upon them.

"Can you hand me my water? I can't seem to reach it now…"

He leans over her legs to her nightstand to get the glass and hands it to her, kissing her feet on his way back and propping a pillow beneath them.

"You have… perfect toes," he mumbles as he gives each family their own kiss.

"Thank you…"

"Comfortable?"

"Perfectly. So… as I was saying… our wedding…"

"Oh yes, our wedding…a vision…that's what you were."

His hand resumes its rightful place on her leg, rubbing rhythmically.

"I…was a bundle of nerves, the whole time…"

"I could tell. You were shaking. I just wanted to relax you."

"You did. All you said was, oh what… oh, `just look at me', that's what you said. So I did. And as soon as I did that, I calmed down."

"You still looked nervous when I started my vows, but I remember…"

Her eyes take him back. Those big, dark beautiful eyes staring back at him. `What we have between us, will grow.' Something changed in her. He felt it. He didn't want to believe it, but he knew… he knew that she trusted him.

"You… you believed me, didn't you?"

A tear falls from her eye as she remembers looking at his face, so nervous and childlike that day, so open and honest in his vows. She did, she believed him with everything in her. `I vow to protect you…" He always kept that vow; he always kept it at the risk of availing himself to the very threat that compromised that vow.

"I did. I don't know why… but no matter what changed in the
lighthouse that night, or in my bedroom the week before, no matter what changed all those times, my heart truly became yours during your vows. I know that now. It was like I was seeing you put yourself on the line in front of everyone – your family, my family – I knew it was real… I knew you meant it, and that meant the world to me."

Their left hands reach out to each other, looking for the place they call home. They barely touch fingertips, but both are swept back in time to the reception… the pictures, the people, the dancing… oh, the dancing. As though reading the other's mind, they both look up into the eyes that shower them with serenity.

"You taught me how to dance that night…"

"You picked it up quick."

"I had to! There was an entire room of strangers watching me!" she laughs. "But, you held me so close that even if I messed up, nobody could tell."

"I just loved seeing you smile… you looked like you were having fun."

"I was… I really was… until it all hit me."

"All what?"

She maneuvers her body and hands him her water to place back on his nightstand so that she can grip his hand a little tighter before they are jerked back into the reality of the situation.

"The… uh… the fact that I had to have Drew call the FBI."

"Tell me something… if you were so happy, if I made you so happy that day, why did you go through with it?"

What kind of answer does he expect? Does he want one that placates him and justifies her logic for turning him into the feds? There was no logic to be made… at least not any that would make sense now. Looking back, it seems like none of her actions made sense. She's realizing it tonight, a night that's forcing her to look at what she did through his eyes, not just through her own.

"Honestly Danny… when I think back, it doesn't make sense. But at the time, it was all I could do. You have to know, though, that I never wanted to hurt you. I didn't, I swear. I did everything I could possibly do to protect you that night – I just wanted your mother…"

"Michelle, you still did it, though…didn't you? I took you up to our bedroom because you looked at me like you wanted me…"

Her head lowers, remembering her objective that night - to get him to sleep with her so that he would trust her into telling her more about the family business.

"I can't lie to you…you're right. Part of it is right. I knew things were getting intense, I knew it because I felt it. I felt like I was your wife, I felt like I was part of your family… it was so much to take in. I started that day just hoping that I would be able to get through it… I didn't
expect to fall in love with you by the time the reception started. I was just so confused…"

"You keep saying that."

"Because it's true! You weren't? You weren't confused? At all?"

"It was simple for me that day… I was your husband, you were my wife… that's all I needed. That's all I needed to be happy… and no, I wasn't confused about that. By the time you wanted to go upstairs I was so clear about you."

His eyes leave hers and float upwards toward the ceiling, letting the wave of memories flood back into his heart.

"I would watch you… from across the room… when you would go over to your family or to Drew… I saw you smile… I knew it was real. I knew it."

He brings his head back to be greeted with the sorrowful eyes of his bride.

"I'm sorry," she whispers

She continues to hold his hand tight, rubbing the top of his fingers with her thumb… a practice that always re-assures him and that will undoubtedly have the same effect on their children in their times of need.

"Shh, no… just… just tell me," he says, unsure that he wants to hear the rest.

"I… I knew…"

Her tears come slowly, but burn as though they were being struck my matches on their way down her cheeks.

"I'm so sorry… I never…I did want you… I didn't want to use you."

His face stern, his soul cries for her. But the words that resonate through his head are those that affect him more than he wants to admit. She used him. She used his love for her. His hands remain with hers, and in unison, they re-familiarize themselves with each line, each crease in the other, ending up bound together so tight that no human breath could pass through them.

"You knew how much I wanted you… and you played me… you knew I loved you and you used that against me… you made me weak for you because you knew… you knew that I would do anything for you."

Her sobs grow heavy as the guilt from the pain that she caused him that night devours her.

"I did… I knew… and that was the plan… but when we kissed… my god, Danny… do you know how much I wanted you? How much I loved you? In that moment? I just wanted the whole world to go away and leave us alone. But when I opened my eyes… it all hit me again."

"Again," he sighs. "I guess I couldn't hold your attention for very long, huh?"

"No… please, don't do this…"

His hand pulls away from hers and forms a ball as he crosses his arms on his chest.

"Don't do what? Don't call you on what you did? I gave you
everything… my heart… it was yours. You knew it, and you used it. You used it. And yet you go on and on about how much you loved me… then. How can you do that to someone you love? Tell me that… tell me how you did it."

He's calm. Too calm, she thinks. Her tears have dried, with the exception of the few that reside directly underneath her eyes. She reaches out for his arm, unable to move too quickly or too swiftly, but he pulls back and makes it clear that he doesn't want to be touched right now.

"I… I… told you… I was confused… I did love you…I did! I didn't know it then… that's all I… I don't know how make you understand… I just… wanted you so much and I knew I could never have you… it killed me to want you more than… more than I should…"

"More than you should? Why couldn't you? Why couldn't you love me? Why couldn't you just… let me love you?"

His shoulders relax as he lifts his knees up under his chin and rests his arms there. He hangs his head as she moves closer to him and pulls his hands away, forcing him to look at her.

"Danny… look at me. You… we… we weren't what I expected. I always lived my life the way my parents taught me, I was expected to do certain things, I was brought up to love a certain way… a safe way. You… you weren't safe, we weren't safe. You were… you were fire… and passion… and danger… you were the part of me that I never wanted to see… the part of me that I was afraid to be. I had no idea how to love you and still be the person my parents raised… the person that everyone – including me – expected me to be."

His eyes brim with empathy. For he knew what it was like to fight against everything that was borne unto him. He knew it all too well. It's all about the fight. He had to fight to love her, but he never knew how much she had to fight to love him. He sees the pain in her eyes as she tries to tell him that story, she tries to recite that poem, she tries to sing him as many symphonies as it takes for him to understand. They've fought separately… they've fought together… and they always won.

He lowers his knees and moves forward, cupping her tear-stained face into his hands. He brushes the stray hair from her eyes lovingly and places a small kiss on her nose as he joins his forehead with hers.

"Thank you," he whispers.

She backs up enough to look at him as tears form in the corners of his eyes.

"For what?"

A smile of adoration brightens his face, but his tears begin to fall at will.

"For fighting for me… for fighting for us."