Something Old by Rebecca Connolly (autobiographies to read txt) 📕

“So am I.” Lily scampered to the chair and sat herself in it, unfolding a napkin and laying it in her lap. She beamed up at her husband as a sudden playful streak shot through her. “Come on, you did say you were famished.”

Thomas nodded again, very slowly this time. “I did say that. And don’t mind if I do.” He started in that direction but headed for Lily instead of his seat.

“What are you–” she began, though she was cut off by his mouth crashing down on hers. Any resistance faded, any shock dissolved, and only a desperate need remained. Her hands shot to his face, cradling it as she pulled herself closer, sighing into the wonder that was his mouth.

He laughed against her and slid his lips to her cheek. “Sorry, love. Shouldn’t have started.”

“I disagree,” she slurred, arching for his lips again.

He pulled back, hands raised in either surrender or apology or perhaps to ward off the rather determined animal that had roared to life within her. “Steady, my love,” he prompted, laughing more breathlessly than she had ever heard him. “Steady. This is not a no, by heaven. This is only ‘let us eat before we continue’. Is that all right?”

Lily narrowed her eyes at him before snickering to herself, her ruffled feathers settling of their own accord as the crackling sounds of the fire filled the room. “I suppose. After all, we’re in no hurry, are we?”

Thomas’s smile turned sweet and adoring. “No, darling, we are not.” He sat and shook out a napkin before setting it on his knee. “Now, what will you have?”

They portioned out food for themselves, each choosing different things and feeding each other by the forkful so the other might also try it. The cook at Helwithin was clearly gifted, for Lily was certain that she’d never eaten anything so delicious in her life. And she adored Mrs. Clare here at Pendrizzick, had no complaints with anything she had ever prepared. But this…

Lily shook her head as she tore off another bite of roll. “I cannot eat another bite, and yet I will do so.” She shrugged as she popped the bread into her mouth, chewing without concern.

“I entirely comprehend you,” Thomas groaned, leaning back in his chair as he peeled an orange. “And we’ve not even made it through half of the basket.”

“I wonder if Mr. Trembath believes we have children,” Lily laughed, looking over at the contents. “It’s too much for any couple. Surely he knows it is only us two.”

Thomas nodded once, sobering a little. “He does know.” His eyes fell to the orange in his hand and the bits of peel he was gathering. “Sometimes I do wish we had children.”

A sharp pain lashed across Lily’s heart, followed by a burst of warmth that threatened to consume her. “So do I. Deeply.”

“Tell me,” he pleaded softly, his voice barely reaching her as his eyes raised to hers. “Please.”

She gave him a sad look, reluctant to share what she knew must pain him, given what they had shared tonight, what they had been lately.

He nodded in encouragement. “Please.”

She supposed it was time to share all, to let the dearest wish of her heart come to light in all its fervency. It was no secret, never could be, but the depth of it… the rawness… She exhaled once, very slowly. “If only you knew how my heart aches when I hold a child,” she told him, her voice steady, though it lacked volume. “When they smile at me, when I have to give them back to their mother… All I have ever wanted is in my arms for that moment, and then it is gone.” She swallowed hard, tears rising. “The reminder of what I lack.”

Thomas said nothing, but she could sense him there with her, listening as intently as though he were the speaker himself.

“And yet…” She paused, searching for the words. “I cannot avoid those moments to protect myself, no matter how the wisdom of it haunts me. I will not. I crave those glimpses and those moments. I adore the way my heart warms and swells, to know those desires have not changed, no matter how dormant they may be at times. They are a part of me, ingrained in me, who I am. I will always want it. Always miss it. Always need it.” Her voice broke, and a tear slid down her cheek slowly. “And in those moments, I am truly myself.”

His hand covered hers on the table, and her eyes flitted there, focused on the fingers tenderly cradling hers. She turned her hand beneath it, palm up, so she could hold onto him as he held onto her.

“I love you.”

Her throat closed, and she swallowed hard, looking up at him with more fear than she had ever done. His expression was soft and open, sadness in his eyes yet a smile on his lips as he looked at her. His fingers brushed gently against the tender skin at her wrist and hand, stroking them over and over, his breathing not quite steady. She watched as he swallowed and nearly buckled as he drew her hand to his lips.

“I love you,” he whispered again.

Lily sighed at the admission, feeling as though her heart would soar and somehow break for the joy within it. “I’ll never tire of hearing that.”

“I’ll tell you every day,” he insisted, bringing their hands back to the table. “Any time of day. I’ll grow ridiculous with using the words so frequently. Perhaps I should have a signal of sorts to let you know that I’m saying I love you, that way I may do so in a public setting without embarrassing you.”

“Another signal?” She laughed and covered their hands. “What would it be, then? You can’t fidget with your cravat pin, we’ve already used that one.”

“I’ll think of something,” he assured her with a wink. “I’m determined to make sure you are fully aware