Truly, Madly, Deeply

by Marian Tee

  And is it really possible for a person to love another, despite not having the length and depth of time to validate such feelings?

  She asked herself these questions again and again, but every single time, she could only remember this one line from the Bible that spoke of people whose relationships were so close...

  The wife of thy bosom, or thy friend, which is as thine own soul...

  It was as if their souls were one.

  And every time this line went through her head, she just couldn't stop thinking, 'That's us.'

  Not just lust, not just love, but her soul rejoicing in finding its mate, the moment Matthijs de Graaf saved her from a wagon full of daisies.

  And that was her answer, Diana realized with painfully bittersweet joy.

  He was her answer, whether it was right or wrong, whether he thought either of them was ready, whether he liked it or not.

  Their souls left them no choice, but when she thought of explaining this to him, Diana could only choke back a teary laugh, knowing that the concept of soulmates was unlikely to sit well with someone as determinedly methodical as the professor.

  So calling him first and explaining her change of heart over the phone was definitely out, Diana decided as she came out of the airport. Instead, she needed a plan. Better yet, an accomplice (the more, the merrier), and an idea slowly took form in her mind.

  Gears were eventually set in motion, and it was how that afternoon the professor came to expect an express package from Mrs. Montez.

  With his entire staff out on some domestic staff union meeting, it was left to Matthijs to open the door when the doorbell rang. But instead of a courier service, he got a dark-haired whirlwind flying straight towards him.

  Diana?

  She slammed into him with such force he almost toppled backwards. He cursed under his breath, but she only laughed, all the while wrapping herself around his body, her arms looping over his shoulders and her legs encircling his waist.

  The last time they had seen each other, it had been at the restaurant, and he had to tell her about his mistress of six years. The last time they spoke, he had to tell her about his illness.

  After that - nothing.

  No texts. No calls. And certainly no fucking visits. She had even missed his class this morning.

  All he had been able to do was cling to dreams and memories, his life completely turned upside down by her coming and going. The real world no longer held any appeal, and Matthijs only went through the motions of living while his mind doggedly relived the past.

  Because it was all he thought he had.

  Until this.

  His hands seemed to move involuntarily, and he could only watch rather than feel them shaking, his inability to believe that she was truly here making the whole thing seem like an illusion. He needed truth to be tangible just like Didymus, who despite being one of the Twelve, was also human, and with humanity came doubts that belied his faith.

  Unless I see the nail marks in His hands and put my finger where the nails were, and put my hand into His side, I will not believe.

  The professor's fingers slowly drifted down her spine.

  Flesh.

  His other hand carefully, and then firmly and tightly, gripped the side of her waist.

  Soft, supple, corporeal flesh.

  Real.

  Put your finger here; see My hands. Reach out your hand and put it into My side. Stop doubting and believe.

  Because she was here.

  Diana worked hard to keep the tears back as his golden eyes lifted to his, and in them she saw all the things that could break her heart.

  Disbelief, because she was here.

  Bleakness, because she was here.

  But also hope, because she was here.

  And it was all she could do not to bawl her eyes out and throw her arms around him.

  I'm here, my love. I won't ever leave you again. I'll stay with you forever.

  But because she knew it was too soon to say such words, she swallowed them all back and instead mustered up a watery smile for the professor. "Hey there." The casual, playful (albeit slightly shaking) tone was meant to tease him into smiling back, but when the professor only stared at her, she reminded herself that it was just his way of protecting himself.

  And so she tried again, continuing, "I, umm, just got back from Miami."

  Something flickered in his gaze, and she told herself this was a good sign.

  "There were things I had to work out..."

  The professor was doing his best not to read between the lines, but his brain was too damn stubborn for its own good. Things she had to work out, she said. Wasn't just that polite fucking speak for 'I was looking for a nice, clean excuse to end things?'

  His jaw clenched. Fine then. He'd make things real easy for her, rip his own heart out for her, he'd do everything for her, because that was how pathetic he had become.

  But when he tried putting her down, her legs tightened around his waist instead. And when he tried untangling her arms around his neck, she leaned back and shook her head. "N-No."

  What the fuck?

  "I'm not done speaking yet."

  He opened his mouth to tell her he already fucking got that she was leaving him, but before he could get one single word out, Diana had pressed a finger against his lips, and he immediately forgot what he had to say. She had never touched him like this, had never initiated contact like this, and it left him stunned, bemused, and...ah, fuck, it left him fucking hopeful.

  "Let me speak first." Diana's voice quavered in the end, and while her eyes were still bright with tears, they were also sparkling with...mischief.

  The professor inhaled sharply.

  Only a soulless bitch could look mischievous when planning to break another guy's heart.

  Which meant...

  "I just have one last thing to say," Diana promised, "and then a-after that, you can do whatever you want with me---aah!" One of Matthijs' hands had slid under her to give her bottom a good, hard squeeze, and at her look of astonishment, he smirked against her lips, as if saying, Whatever I want, right?

  A laugh escaped her, but it turned halfway into a sob. "Oh, Professor." That smirk told her he understood she was staying. That smirk told her he wasn't going to make her leave anymore. That smirk...was everything.

  And suddenly, she could no longer hold the words back.

  "Professor---" Her voice broke. "P-Professor, I love you."

  A moment later, and Diana had to bite back a hysterical giggle as the professor responded by dumping her on her feet and practically tearing out of her hold like it was her who had HIV.

  "No," Matthijs grated out. "You don't." Because it was one thing for her to come back, but another thing to say that.

  "I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I do."

  "No. You just think you feel that, but it's only fucking pity---"

  "I'd have to be the biggest idiot to pity someone as arrogant as you..." And then she only looked at him, letting her doe eyes say the rest.

  And since I'm no idiot...

  I'm not here because I pity you..

  I'm here because I love you.

  The professor wanted to slam his head against a wall. FUCK, FUCK, FUCK. Even without her saying a single thing, her dark eyes spoke loud and clear, and despite knowing that he was about to commit a mortal sin by letting her stay -

  Let me have Heaven here, and Hell can have my soul later.

  Diana held her breath when the professor suddenly spoke. "I wouldn't know about being arrogant..."

  Their eyes met.

  "But if you think that and yet you still say you love me..."

  And suddenly everything became clear.

  "Then I suppose you are an idiot."

  Oh God.

  A laugh escaped her, and once again it turned into a sob halfway, and then it kept on coming, laughter and sobs mixed into one. Because with him saying those words - with him joking - with him looking at her like he also knew - like hi
s soul also found its mate - Diana knew she had won.

  They had won.

  She threw herself at him, still crying and laughing, and it was like coming back home as his arms locked around her shaking body.

  Her tears wet his shirt. I really love you, Professor.

  His arms tightened around her. I know. And more fool you.

  Her body shook with laughter, and so did his, because even if words hadn't been spoken, their souls heard each other just fine.

  With Diana once again in his arms, the professor carried her to the living room, but as soon as they were both on the couch, she came crawling to his lap, arms around his neck and her head lying against his chest.

  The strangest feeling crept upon him, something unfamiliar and powerful, and it took him a while to realize the feelings were nothing but...peace.

  Because she was with him again, he was at peace, and while his own feelings were probably just a fraction of what Diana's beloved Saint Augustine had felt upon finding his perfect dwelling in God's love, Matthijs could think no better than the sainted bishop's words to describe how he felt---

  Our heart is restless, until it repose in Thee.

  He closed his eyes.

  That was exactly how he felt.

  His heart had been restless until it rested in Diana, and it was just too fucking bad he had not met her sooner, at a time when he had been a better man, and his heart had been purer, and his body uncontaminated.

  The thought reminded the professor of the many things he was still honor-bound to say, but when he tried to pull away, he felt her sweet, gentle resistance, with the faint shake of her head and the way her arms tightened around him.

  In spite of what she now knew, she still didn't want to be apart, and the realization was as humbling as it was painful.

  Tipping her chin up, he found her eyes wet and swollen, but also soft with love.

  For him.

  And his throat burned, for there were words he wished he could say but didn't deserve to.

  "Diana---" Her gaze turned wary the moment he spoke, and he couldn't help feeling amused. "I haven't said anything yet," he pointed out.

  "You don't have to," she muttered. "And the answer is yes, yes, yes. I know what I'm getting into. I know it's not going to be a bed of roses. I know it's going to be hard, harder even than the worst that I can think of. I know, Professor, but it doesn't change a thing."

  "You deserve someone whole," he said flatly. "Someone---"

  "I love," she finished for him fiercely. "Don't you think I deserve that, too?" And when this only made the professor's strikingly handsome face turn stoic, almost as if he was still trying to find a way to kick her out of his life, she knew just what to do.

  If it had worked earlier, then it should work once more.

  "I love you, Professor."

  An expletive slipped past his cruelly beautiful lips, and she could barely suppress her smile, thinking it was just like the professor to swear at a declaration of love.

  "I've been in love with you for some time now, and I think, deep inside, you knew I felt that way." She felt his body turn rigid under her and knew that she was getting through to him. But because he was still silent, she also knew she had to do something bigger, something to completely knock him off---

  And before she knew it, she was already cupping his face, and her lips were moving to cover his.

  "NO!"

  Matthijs had a hard time believing the ridiculous situation he had just found himself in, with him doing his best to evade Diana's lips.

  "But you seem to need proof of how committed I am to this." She couldn't help grinning as she spoke, with the professor contorting in every way possible just to avoid her mouth. "So just let me kiss you---"

  "Diana, dammit---"

  "It's just a kiss---"

  "You haven't had a fucking medical clearance yet," he growled.

  "I'll leave it to God," she said with feigned carelessness.

  Exasperated and frustrated at her stubbornness, Matthijs decided to take matters in his own hands and rose to his feet as he swept her off the couch.

  Diana let out a shriek when the professor suddenly swung her up in the air, but then she burst into laughter when the professor slung her over his shoulder the next moment.

  Definitely no way to kiss him now, she thought with a grin, but this new position did give her a rather nice view of his bum.

  "Now..." The professor's voice was grim. "Can we start discussing things like adults?"

  "Discussions are a two-way street, Professor, and you didn't seem inclined to listen to me."

  "I only listen when someone's saying something worth liste---what the fuck!" But he also had trouble fighting back a grin, unable to believe Diana had the audacity to pinch his butt.

  "I wasn't sure you'd feel that," he heard her say cheerfully. "Too much muscle, too little fat, but..." And then she pinched him again.

  "Goddammit, Diana." But his words were without heat, and when he finally put her down on her feet, she immediately smiled up at him, and it was a dazzling sight that pierced him like an arrow shooting straight to his heart.

  "Do you get it now?"

  "Fuck no."

  But she only laughed. "Liar." Her voice was sweet and affectionate, its sound music to every cell of his body, and when she placed a hand over his heart, ah, fuck.

  It felt good. It felt right. It felt...like home.

  "I know you only kept pushing me away for my sake, but every time you did, it never did either of us any good. So don't you think we should try it the other way around? Can't we believe, even just this once, that God's on our side on this and give His plan a try?"

  Her hand left his chest, moving up to cup his cheek, and a ragged sigh escaped him because it was like being touched by heaven.

  She started to raise herself on her toes, and he bent his head.

  Her lips touched his ears, and she whispered hope to his soul.

  Jeremiah 29:11, Professor.

  Her

  Sunflower by ItsAMoney (Violin Cover)

  Diana had always known that the professor, once his mind was made up, would be the type to move fast.

  What she had not realized was just how fast he could be, and she found herself striving to keep up with his incredible pace as the professor made call after call and scheduled sessions and meetings for her, all of which he told Diana was non-negotiable. A meeting with his lawyer, personal doctor, therapist, and those were just the experts on his side.

  When she had seen that he also wanted her to speak with families whose members had once suffered from HIV and eventually died of AIDS, she had initially balked, thinking it was too much, but then he had pulled her close, brushing his lips against her forehead as he displayed his hitherto unknown skills in cajolery.

  Do this for me, please, he had whispered ever so beguilingly, and that was it.

  She had meekly gone on to do his bidding, and by the time he had dropped her off at university, his tender kiss on her cheek was enough to have her floating away in a daze of happiness.

  It was only when she was alone in her dorm room, like now, that she found herself torn between rapturous joy and strangling anxiety.

  There were times when all she could do was remember the moments his lips touched her skin, and her toes would curl so hard because she remembered them so vividly. And oh sweet heavens, but so much had changed now, and these days, he seemed to be kissing her every chance he could get.

  Before entering and leaving the car. Before entering and leaving his house. Before entering and leaving the room.

  Those were the moments that her heart felt fit to burst with happiness, and oh God, if only her whole life could be made up of just those moments.

  But it was not.

  Because what made life more beautiful was the ugly moments, and there were times when those were all she could think of. Times when it was deep in the night and, with only the silent darkness to keep her company, she couldn't help
remember the moments that turned love into the most agonizing form of pain.

  She had once asked him why he had never tried kissing her before, and the professor had said simply, Because it didn't feel right.

  Touching you...kissing you...

  When you hadn't any fucking idea of what I have inside of me...

  Those moments were ugly alright, but oh God, it was also those moments that proved how ludicrously good the professor was at breaking her heart and piecing them back together. Over and over, he would do it, and he always did so at the same damn time.

  They would be working on her thesis, and he had this way of saying her name...

  They would be in the middle of class, and he would have this way of looking at her...

  Oh, Saint M.

  If their first week together was of Diana falling for him, then this week was of her falling even harder.

  I love him so much.

  Because there were just so many those important little things...

  The brush of his knuckles against her cheek, the drift of his fingers down her spine...

  So, so much.

  With every single thing the professor said and did, he just had this way of making her feel like she alone was what he had been waiting for.

  And that's why I'm so scared, too.

  His entire life, he had been waiting for her. Just her.

  I don't want to lose him, Saint M.

  Because as bittersweet and beautiful the past week had been, they had been just as brutal as well, with expert after expert telling Diana in not so many words they thought the whole thing was doomed to fail.

  His accountant had looked at her like he believed she was only with his employer for the money, and while the size of the professor's personal fortune had indeed been a surprise, Diana had also been hurt and incensed on the professor's behalf. So much so she had her own accountant come over and let everyone who cared to know her own wealth could match Matthijs' penny for penny.

  Petty or not, she needed everyone to understand she was with Matthijs because she loved him.

  Diana had said as much when she was confronted with the same amount of skepticism from Matthijs' lawyer. But while Arthur Folsgaard was less obnoxious than the accountant, he had been a lot more cold-blooded and mercilessly blunt.