Careless Whispers

Five

Rose's body felt achy and heavy, well used. For a long moment, she lay there, absorbing the odd reality of Jack laying beside her. It was surprisingly pleasant, reaffirming the intimacy established through lovemaking. It was growing dark outside. The sunlight that had shone through the window earlier was dimmed now. Hours had passed, as had several shattering orgasms. She hadn't known her body was capable of repeating a climax so soon, or that a man's body was capable of such sexual stamina. Perhaps she wasn't even aware that she could connect emotionally on such a level whilst with a man; both it appeared were innocent to these notions. All the while, she was aware of the looming dread within her stomach. It wouldn't leave her alone.

Jack snuggled Rose against his bare chest. He ran his fingers through her auburn hair, kissed her, and caressed her. Anything to take that lost look from her eyes. In just these few hours, he had learnt how to read her in every single way and she had learnt him, too. Just singular things about him, that she had missed thirteen years before, or perhaps, they were new habits and picked up over their parted years.

Rose ran a single finger down his right arm, where she discovered two or three scars.

''Where did you get these?''

''The war.'' His jaw was tight. His voice was unwavering. ''I was injured as a bomb went off at the Somme. It was some shrapnel embedded.''

''Oh, Jack.'' Rose buried her face deeper into his chest, fully realising just how little she knew about the man in front of her. ''Tell me about it.''

Jack wasn't sure he could tell her without breaking down from the sheer impossibility of it all. ''Fear. Sheer absolute gut-wrenching heartache.'' He thought to be immune to it now but then Rose had given him the most indescribable joy that he could have imagined beside the birth of his child. Wasn't that all that mattered now? These last precious hours with Rose? Did they really have to go back ten years to the war? Seeing how her eyes shone, watching him with such anticipation, he started to speak.

''I was completely alone.'' Jack started to recall. ''I was always half way down a bottle of something strong and never would the demons leave me be.'' He traced a circle about her shoulder. ''I lost every friend that I gained out there. The land was just...ruined. The smell of blood and death became the norm.''

His hand shifted, started to tremble, even thinking of the damned war caused him to sweat and soon it was fisting in Rose's hair, almost pulling at it. She felt it there, and stroked his stomach to soothe him, somehow.

''Was it the shrapnel that got you out?''

Jack paused. ''Yes. Well, for a while-'' Exhaling, he returned to stroking her hair. ''I was injured so I had a few months out, but I was there until the very end.''

Even regaling his own tale was painful. So, it was very painful. It made him shudder for no reason other than his own memories.

"Shh," Rose purred. "Be still, Jack." Her long, dark lashes fluttered over her cheeks. She was so young and beautiful. There wasn't a line on her face. Despite being thirteen years apart.

"Sometimes, when I really thought about you when I laid in those trenches, I would believe that it was better if we had never met."

Her blue eyes shot open. "Why would you say that?"

"Think about it, Rose..."

"Oh, I have! Without you, I'd be married to Cal, and would have never known freedom.'" she explained. "Without you, Jack, I'd still be a girl trapped in a woman's wasted body. Now, I know about love. Though I lost you. I would never even consider having never met you. Even when I thought I'd lost you, I never regretted our meeting. I never thought I'd find a husband, have children but you put faith in me to do that, to find a great man..." Her eyes lined with tears. "And now, there is this...'' She trailed off, too much pain curling in her stomach and so she stopped. ''You are my life."