Edge of Forever

by Sherryl Woods

  “There’s probably some perfectly logical explanation. Maybe I just split the seat out of my pants and no one dared to tell me.”

  Dana glowered at him. “Don’t try to make a joke out of this, Nick. Something’s very wrong. Everyone’s been very friendly to me since I arrived in town—until tonight. Have you heard any rumors going around?”

  “What sort of rumors?” he hedged.

  “I don’t know. It seems around here buying a new dress is cause enough for gossip.”

  Nick’s eyebrows arched at the sarcasm. “I’ve never heard you sound bitter before. Is it what happened tonight or is it something more? Have there been other incidents you haven’t mentioned to me?”

  Dana stopped her pacing to declare, “I’m just fed up with people digging around in my life. I came here to escape that. I should have known it would be worse than ever in a place like this.” Angrily, she clenched her hands into tight fists. Nick reached out and caught one hand in his and rubbed his thumb across the knuckles until her grip relaxed.

  “Come on,” he urged. “Sit down. Let’s talk this out. There has to be some reasonable explanation.”

  She yanked her hand away and began pacing again. “I can’t sit down. Do you have any idea what it’s like to feel people staring at you, making judgments about you, especially people you thought were your friends? It’s awful,” she said, her voice rising at first in outrage, then catching on a sob.

  She stared at Nick and her mournful expression almost broke his heart. She sat down and put her head in her hands.

  “I thought it was over,” she said, her voice muffled. “I thought it couldn’t follow me here, but it has.”

  Nick seized on the remark. “What has followed you? Dana, what are you talking about? What rumors could there be?”

  She looked up and stared at him blankly, as if she’d been unaware of the full implications of what she’d said, then she shook her head. “Never mind.”

  “Dana, stop hiding things from me. I care about you. Please, can’t you talk to me about what’s worrying you? There’s nothing you can’t tell me. I promise you I won’t make judgments.”

  Her lips quivered, but her voice held firm. “I can’t, Nick.”

  “Why? Why can’t you tell me, dammit? You know I’m not just being nosy.”

  Tears trickled down her cheeks and she bit her lips.

  “Dana?”

  When she still didn’t respond, he slammed his fist down on the table and Dana’s eyes widened in fear. “For God’s sakes, Dana, talk to me. Fight back.”

  She shuddered, then squared her shoulders determinedly. “You can’t help, Nick. I can’t even help myself.” Her eyes were empty, her voice expressionless. “Go on home. I just want to go to bed.”

  “Dammit, I am not leaving you alone when you’re this upset. You’re shaking, for heaven’s sakes.” All thoughts of his planned confrontation vanished now as he responded to her pain. “Dana, please, let me help you.”

  “I’ll be fine,” she insisted. “Go home to Tony.”

  “Tony’s with his grandparents tonight. You’re the one who needs me. I’m staying right here.”

  Dana apparently saw the implacable look in his eyes, because she finally shrugged and gave in. “Okay, fine. Stay if you like. You can sleep in the guest room.”

  With that she whirled around and left him alone at the kitchen table wishing he had some idea how to comfort her. But how could you offer comfort to a woman who refused to admit she needed it? Dana was all stiff-necked pride and angry determination. By hinting that he sensed a weakness, a vulnerability, he had forced a denial. She had virtually rejected him, as well.

  He listened to the simple, routine sounds of Dana getting ready for bed: the water running, drawers opening and closing, then finally the rustle of sheets. Vivid images played across his mind, taunting him. When he could no longer see a light under the bedroom door, he tiptoed down the hall and stood outside her room, certain he could hear the choked sound of her muffled sobs.

  “Dana.”

  Only silence answered him.

  Dana bit her lip to keep from responding to Nick’s call. Hot, salty tears slid down her cheeks and dampened the pillow. They were tears for a past she couldn’t forget and a present she couldn’t prevent from whirling out of control. Her arms ached from the effort it had cost her to keep from throwing them around Nick’s waist and holding on for dear life. His strength could get her through this, but she didn’t dare begin to count on it. Far more than pride had held her back. She loved him. No matter how she had angered him, how deeply she had hurt him, he had given her gentleness and understanding. She couldn’t give him more heartache in return.

  A fresh batch of tears spilled down her cheeks. Dear God, how she needed him, but she had to be strong enough to let him go. Tonight after the movies, feeling the stares burning into her, she had seen more clearly than ever that it was the only way. She couldn’t embroil Nick in her problems, not when those problems seemed to be mounting every minute. She’d only be an albatross to a man who might one day want to run for office. She and Nick had never discussed his political aspirations, but she’d heard about them. He deserved the chance to make a fine legislator.

  She swallowed another sob and clung to her pillow, pretending it was Nick she held. She tried to imagine his strength seeping into her. With him by her side, she could face almost anything. Without him, it was going to be hell all over again.

  She heard the creak of the ancient bedsprings in the guest room and it sent a shiver down her spine. You could be with him, she told herself. All you have to do is walk down the hall, go to him. He won’t turn you away.

  But it wasn’t nearly that simple and she knew it. In the morning she would find the strength to say goodbye again and convince Nick that this time she really meant it.

  Nick woke before dawn, and after hesitating indecisively in the hallway, he opened the bedroom door and crept in to check on Dana. The dim light from the hall cast the room into patches of golden brightness and dim shadows.

  Dana was in the middle of the bed in a tangle of sheets, her nightgown of silk and lace twisted midway up her thighs. She was sleeping soundly now, though he had heard her restless tossing for most of the night. He tiptoed closer and sat down carefully on the edge of the bed.

  She looked so peaceful and vulnerable lying there, her hair flowing over her shoulders in rich brown waves, her skin slightly damp and flushed from the summer night’s heat. He brushed the hair back from her face, then lingered to caress her cheek. Even in sleep, a responsive smile tilted the corners of her mouth. Unable to resist, he leaned down to press a kiss on her lips. They were like cool satin beneath his touch, smooth and resilient.

  Dana sighed at the touch of his mouth on hers and Nick deepened the kiss, lingering to savor the sensations it aroused, to delight in her sleepy responsiveness. His hand drifted down to skim over her bare shoulder, then slid the thin strap on her gown aside. His thumb followed the curve of her jaw and his tongue tasted the soft hollow of her throat. She stirred restlessly and he tried to soothe her by gently stroking her arm.

  Suddenly, as if trapped in the midst of a waking nightmare, she sat straight up in bed. Her eyes snapped open and stared around in unseeing terror. Her hands were thrown protectively up in front of her. Her whole body shook violently.

  “No, please. No.”

  The words were a desperate whimper that stunned Nick into silence as she frantically drew the sheet up like a protective shield, clutching it around her and huddling in a corner of the bed.

  Finally, his thoughts whirling, he forced himself to speak. He had to break through this blind panic.

  “Dana, love, it’s me. Nick. It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you.” His voice was low and soothing. He spoke steadily, despite the pounding of his heart and the fear unleashed inside him. “Shh, sweetheart, it’s okay. Nobody’s going to hurt you.”

  She blinked as his words began to register. “Nick.�
� Her eyes seemed to focus. The fear seemed to slowly dissipate, but not the trembling.

  “Darling, I didn’t mean to frighten you. Can I hold you?” he asked softly, reluctant to make another move without her approval.

  She sat rocking, wrapped in the sheet, her arms around her stomach, her gaze locked on some awful, distant memory.

  “Dana?”

  At last she nodded. “Please.”

  As Nick’s arms went around her, one last shudder swept through her and she curved herself into his comforting warmth. Then her tears began. They flowed endlessly. She wept until he thought both their hearts would break.

  Chapter 9

  Dana clung to Nick, her whole body shuddering with deep, wrenching sobs brought on by the unexpected reawakening of old wounds. Nick’s gentle kiss had plucked her from a lovely dream and cast her into a nightmare he couldn’t possibly have anticipated. Yet despite the seemingly irrational violence of her reaction, he continued to soothe her, his hands gently massaging her back, brushing the hair from her face.

  “It’s okay, love. It’s going to be okay,” he promised, and because she needed to, she believed him.

  His words soothed her like a balm until at last she was still, totally drained by the experience. She drew in a deep breath and tried to pull free, but Nick held her still. For once, she hadn’t the strength to resist. She burrowed her face in the male-scented warmth of his shoulder, while his arms circled her, lending strength and comfort. His steady breathing and slow, constant heartbeat were like the rhythmic sounds of a train, lulling her.

  For this brief moment in time Dana felt safe, as if no harm could ever come to her again. She knew all too well, though, how fragile and fleeting that feeling could be.

  “Feel better?” he asked.

  She nodded, unable to trust her voice. Deep inside lurked the fear that if she opened her mouth at all, it would be to scream with such agony that Nick would flee just when she was discovering she needed his steadiness and quiet calm the most. Already she’d shown him a side of her she’d hoped he would never encounter. She could only begin to imagine what he must think of her after her unintentional display of histrionics, yet he hadn’t run.

  “I’m sorry,” she said finally.

  “There’s nothing to be sorry about,” he said, giving her a reassuring squeeze. “I’m the one who should be apologizing. I obviously frightened you. I guess I wasn’t thinking. You looked so peaceful while you slept, so beautiful, that I couldn’t resist kissing you. When you kissed me back, I wanted more. I shouldn’t have given in to the feeling. I should have realized you’d be startled.”

  Surprisingly, she felt her lips curve into a half smile. “I think that’s a slight understatement. You must have thought I was demented.”

  “Hardly.”

  She felt his fingers thread through her hair. When he reached her nape he massaged her neck until the knots of tension there began to unwind, replaced by a slow-spreading warmth that settled finally in her abdomen. Desire, dormant for so long, flared at his touch. She felt alive again and, despite everything, hopeful. She relaxed into the sensations, allowing her enjoyment of Nick’s seductive caresses to last far longer than was wise.

  Just a few minutes, she said to herself. Just let me have a few minutes of solace in the arms of a man I love. Let me feel again, just for a little while. Surely that’s not asking too much.

  “Dana, talk to me about your marriage. What went wrong?”

  The seemingly innocent request snapped her out of her quiet, drifting state. Her muscles tensed immediately and her heart thumped so loudly and so hard she was sure the sound must echo through the bedroom.

  She shook her head. “I can’t talk about it.”

  “You must. I finally realize that must be what has been standing between us from the beginning. It’s the only thing it could be.”

  “Nick, please. Let the past stay buried.”

  “I wish that were possible, but it’s obviously not. Just look at your reaction this morning.”

  She stiffened and her tone became defensive. “That’s a pretty big leap in logic. What makes you think that has anything to do with my past? Any woman who normally lives alone would be startled to find herself being attacked while she’s still half-asleep.”

  His brow lifted at her choice of words. “Is that what it was?” She heard the doubt in his tone, saw it in his eyes, and suddenly she couldn’t bear to go on with the facade a minute longer. Nick truly cared about her, perhaps even loved her, though he’d never said the words aloud. She’d seen the emotion, coupled with desire, time and again in his eyes. At the very least he deserved the truth, no matter how difficult the telling of it might be for her.

  Sighing in resignation, she met his gaze. “What do you want to know?”

  “How did you meet your husband?”

  “We were in college together. He was a few years older. He was already finishing law school just as I started undergraduate school. We met at a fraternity party.”

  “Did you marry right away?”

  “No. We waited until he’d finished school and gone to work.”

  “Were you happy?”

  “In the beginning, yes. We were very happy.”

  “But not always?”

  “No.”

  “What happened? Did he start running around with other women? Spend too much time at work?”

  “Why are you so sure that I’m not the one at fault?”

  “Because it’s very clear that commitment is not something you take lightly. You’d fight for your marriage.”

  “Yes,” she said very softly. “I suppose, in a way, I did.”

  A thousand images from those five long years flashed through her mind. The mental album began with Sam as he’d looked on their wedding day, his gray eyes watching her with pride, shining with love. She recalled vividly the nights of glorious passion, when his slightest touch fired her blood. Then there were the pictures of Sam at an endless series of parties, her arm tucked possessively through his, or Sam staring hard at her every second they were separated in a room as if in search of the slightest hint of betrayal. And then…She shut her eyes against the images of what happened next, but the visions stayed with her, burned indelibly in her memory.

  Nick’s arms tightened around her. “Tell me, love. Maybe talking it out will help.” His breath whispered across her bare shoulder.

  Dana had also once thought that talking was an answer. She had tried to talk to her family, but they’d turned a deaf ear. They’d been so impressed with her perfect marriage to a man they admired that they hadn’t wanted to listen to the flaws. Her sisters had their own problems just trying to make ends meet. They couldn’t understand how anyone with Sam’s and Dana’s financial resources could possibly be troubled.

  The next time she’d dared to talk it had been to a psychiatrist, and by then it had been too late for anything to help. There was no reason to believe that opening up to Nick would bring her anything but more pain. She was so afraid of the expression she would see in his eyes when she’d finished. Pity, doubt or condemnation would be equally difficult to bear.

  “Oh, Nick,” she murmured in a tone that decried his innocence. Would he ever fully understand how truly fortunate he had been in his own marriage? How rare the unselfish joy he had found with Ginny was?

  “You want to know what went wrong in my marriage, as if it were possible to pick out a single moment and say, ‘Ah, yes, that’s when it began falling apart. That’s what all the arguments were about.’ It doesn’t work that way. The disintegration takes place in stages, so slowly that you don’t always recognize it when it begins to happen and the cause may have very little to do with the symptoms.”

  Nick shook his head in denial. “I can’t accept that. Maybe you can’t see it at the time, but now, in retrospect, surely you can.”

  “Not really, and believe me, I’ve tried and tried. I kept hoping I could pinpoint the start of it so I could understand it myself. W
e had arguments at first, like any newly married couple trying to adjust. They were always over little things. I squeezed the toothpaste from the bottom, Sam squeezed it from the top. I left my pantyhose hanging in the shower. He dropped his socks on the bedroom floor. Was that when it began? Did it fall apart over toothpaste, pantyhose and socks?”

  She looked to Nick for a comment, but he simply waited. “Okay, maybe it was the first time he dumped an entire meal on the dining room floor because I’d fixed something for dinner he didn’t like. Or maybe it was the first time he accused me of paying too much attention to one of his coworkers at an office party. Maybe, though, it wasn’t until the night he slapped me for challenging his opinion in public.”

  Her tone took on an edge of belligerence. “Which time do I pick, Nick? Which time was just your normal, everyday marital squabble and which was the first sign that my husband was sick, that he was unable to cope with pressure and that I was likely to become the target for his anger?”

  Nick swallowed hard as the implication of that sank in, but his gaze was unblinking, compassionate and unrelenting. “Go on.”

  Dana shivered in his arms and closed her eyes against the memories again, but as before, that only seemed to focus them more sharply.

  She spoke in a voice barely above a whisper, fighting against the sickening tide of nausea that always accompanied her recollections.

  “I remember the first time Sam hit me. I was so stunned.” Even now her voice was laced with surprise. “I had known he was upset. His anger had been building for weeks. The pressures at work were getting worse and he was tense all the time. One night he just snapped. It was over what I’d considered a minor disagreement in public. When we got home, he started yelling at me about it. All of a sudden he was practically blind with rage. After he hit me, he cried. I sat on the bed with this red mark on my face and Sam kneeling on the floor beside me, crying, apologizing, promising it would never happen again, begging me to forgive him.”

  She looked up and saw tears shimmering in Nick’s eyes. She had to turn away. His pity was unbearable.