A Summer Smile
Page 17
"Pedestal." Her smile faded slightly. "I have an idea we've been having a massive communication breakdown." Her face was suddenly thoughtful. "I have no use for that glass case you wanted to put me in, Daniel. I don't melt in the rain and I don't break with a little rough handling. In spite of all your fine words about how strong I am, I don't think you really understand that. I've had years of being looked after as though I were so fragile that a breath would blow me away. It was all done for the best of reasons and perhaps I needed it at first." She shook her head. "But not now. You've been whipping yourself because you thought you were so rough and selfish with me that night in the cave." She touched his lips with a trembling finger. "Don't you realize how I treasured that night? You were everything that was strong and true, and yet you needed me. You didn't take anything from me that night. I gave and it was wonderful. I want to keep on giving." Her words were just above a whisper. "Don't shut me away in your dream world of sunshine and flowers. I want to live in the real world. Because that's where you live, Daniel. And I couldn't live in a world without you, no matter how beautiful it was."
"The real world," he agreed huskily. "For the rest of our lives. But don't be too generous with your giving, love. I may take too much. I've never needed anyone this much before. I'm not sure I know how to handle it."
She pulled his head down to kiss him with loving tenderness. "I'll handle—" She broke off and slowly shook her head. "No, we'll handle it. Together." She smiled at him. It was the summer smile he loved so much. Wise and warm with the sweet promise of joy and fulfillment to come.
A gust of wind stirred. It touched their cheeks with fresh coolness and brought with it the intoxicating scent of poppies and wild grass . . . and a sunrise world newly reborn from the darkness.