Belle Morte Bites (Belle Morte 4.3)

Three's Company: Part Five

In the end they didn't move past it.

When Régine had died, Marie was there to bridge the hole she'd left behind. But the loss of Marie was a raw, bloody wound that neither Ludovic nor Lucille knew how to deal with.

Ludovic wanted to talk about her, to keep her memory alive in the home that they had shared, but Lucille couldn't bear to hear her name. For the first few days, all she could do was sob, and then suddenly the tears stopped, and she took to lying in the bed where Marie had died, her hand pressed to the place where their daughter used to sleep. Ludovic had thought they would help each other shoulder the burden of their grief, but instead Lucille was pulling away from him, retreating somewhere that he couldn't follow.

The love that they'd once shared was splintering, and he tried to hold onto the pieces, tried to fit them back together, but the edges were too sharp and jagged. They didn't fit anymore.

It came as no surprise when Lucille told him she was leaving. But having anticipated it, didn't make it hurt any less. She was all he had left in the world. Régine and Marie had been taken from him – but Lucille was choosing to leave. He couldn't put into words how much that hurt.

"Do you blame me for not turning her?" he had to ask.

Lucille's eyes widened with shock. "No! We've already talked about this."

"You might have changed your mind."

"I haven't." Lucille clasped her hands together, resting them on the tabletop. "It's just . . ." She sighed, lowering her head so he couldn't see her face. "I still love you, Ludovic, but it's not enough anymore. I want children, and you can't give me that."

Her words weren't meant to be cruel, but they felt like shards of ice sinking into his skin. Before Marie, Ludovic hadn't thought about children. It hadn't occurred to him that the women might want them one day, or that he couldn't have them, or that it would ever affect the life they had together. They'd been happy with each other. Now Lucille wasn't happy anymore, and nothing he could do would change that.

"I'm sorry," he said.

Lucille made a noise that was part laugh, part sob. "It's hardly your fault."

"I just want you to be happy. I wish I could give you that."

Lucille stared down at her hands. What else was there to say?

"Will you stay one more night?" Ludovic asked.

Once, there wasn't a night that would go by when they didn't make love, but that had changed when Marie was born. They'd gone from long, luxurious hours spent in bed to snatching whatever time they could when Marie was asleep, and once Marie fell ill, sex had disappeared entirely. But this wasn't about sex. Ludovic just wanted one more night of hearing Lucille breathing, the soft murmurs she made when she dreamed, the thump of her precious heart. He loved her so much, but he wouldn't ask her to stay because it really was better this way. Lucille still had a chance at the family she wanted, and he would never keep her from that.

Lucille touched her fingertips to his. "One more night," she said.

Something shifted in her eyes, and she lunged forward to kiss him. It was harder than she normally kissed, and almost desperate, her hands tangling roughly in his hair. Ludovic gently pushed her away.

"What are you doing?" he said.

Lucille was breathing hard, her eyes shining with a strange light. "I need you."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

Lucille slid into his lap, and despite what he'd just said, his body reacted to her. She pushed her fingers through his hair again, pulling his head back so she was looking down on him.