Page 99 of Temptations of a Wallflower
But she didn’t move. She only looked at his hand. The murky light traced the familiar lines of her face, suspending her in an aquatic half-illumination. It was too dark to see much, but he knew her so well that he barely needed any light to know that the expression she wore was one of profound sadness.
His heart pitched. What could he do to heal any wounds she suffered?
“Before we do,” she said, her voice soft with sorrow, “I need . . . to tell you something.”
“We can talk in bed.” He wanted her away from this cold height, where it seemed as though the fathomless universe would swallow her whole.
She shook her head. “I’m uncertain if we’ll share a bed again.”
Fresh panic shook him. “You don’t know that.”
“No, but I realize that after I speak, things will change. They’ll never be the same again.” She sounded bleak but resigned.
“Just tell me,” he urged.
She stared at him, then looked away at the hazy night sky. “The sky’s so different from the sky in Rosemead. Here it’s choked with smoke and dull with the lights of the city.” She exhaled. “Heaven seems very far away in London.”
“Sarah . . .” he said warningly. “Promise me. Swear to me you’ll do nothing foolish.”
She let out a sad laugh. “Definefoolish.”
“It’s a sin to hurt yourself.” He hated even saying the words, but he forced them out.
Her eyes widened. “No. Oh, no. I would never . . . I couldn’t . . . Oh, Jeremy.” She took a small step toward him. “I’m so sorry if I ever led you to believe that I’d done something like that. Please. No.”
Thank God. A small thread of relief wove along his spine. But he couldn’t feel easy. Not yet. “Say what it is you have to say. And then we’ll go to bed. I swear we’ll share a bed again.”
“That’s something you cannot know.” She exhaled once more. “Jeremy. My love. That will never change. I will love you . . . forever.”
“So why do you make this sound like a good-bye?” he demanded, cold with fear.
“Because it might be. Because . . .” She looked down at her slippered feet, then back up again. “Neither of usis happy. There’s a pall of misery hanging over us, and no amount of theatrical performances, botanical gardens, or tea shops can ever change that. You’ve tried. I know you’ve tried so hard. But there’s only one solution. One way to make this right.”
He kept silent, but his pulse drummed in his ears.
“I have to write,” she said with finality. “I have to be the Lady of Dubious Quality again. She’s who I am. I cannot refute that any longer. I can’t deny who I am. Not for anyone. Not even,” she added mournfully, “for you.”
He shook with the force of her words. It resounded in his flesh, his muscles. His ears rang. Everything quaked.
No words came to him. He opened his mouth to speak, but silence reigned.
She’d made her choice. And her choice wasn’t him.
Sarah spoke quickly, filling that void. “If you desire, we’ll live apart. To protect you from scandal. I don’t want to endanger you in any way.”
“Is that what you want?” he asked hoarsely.
“I want everything,” she answered. “I want to write. I want you. But I know . . .” She gulped back tears. “I know I cannot have everything. Only a lucky few get their every wish. In time, maybe, I’ll look at this decision and curse myself. But I can’t go on this way. I can’t be who other people want me to be.”
“You were yourself with me.”
She shook her head. “Never fully. There was that secret between us, and I hoped to be the good, devoted wife. I wanted to be whatyouwanted.”
“I always wanted you,” he said hoarsely.
“You didn’t,” she answered. “Not when I revealed that I was the Lady of Dubious Quality.”
“Because you didn’t trust me with the truth.”
