I Am Not Yours

Joy or No Joy

April 1916

Abigail couldn't help but feel at peace and calm for the first time in years as her naked body intertwined with Henry's. After over an hour of sex and pleasing each other in many different ways, they lay together on the mayor's bed, skin on skin. Henry rested on his back whilst Abigail's chest lay on his. Her right leg found its way between both of his legs under the thin sheet that covered only half their bodies. Her left ear stayed pressed against his chest as she listened to his heart beat beneath the surface of his skin. Henry felt Abigail's heart beat against his own bare chest and he traced small patterns on the woman's back.

"I wish I knew you when we were young." Abigail confessed, her own fingers tracing circles on Henry's bare chest. Her eyes looked up at his calm face. His eyes were closed yet a small smirk grew on his lips and he chuckled. "What?" She asked him when he did.

"We were pretty young when we met." He told her, keeping his eyes closed in relaxation. "I was only 29 then."

"Yes, I know. And I was 23. But I mean younger. When we were kids."

Henry's smirk faded a little. "No, you don't."

"Yes, I do." She slid her hand up from his chest, passed his neck and to his chin, tracing his jawline as she spoke. "I want to know what your voice sounded like then....what your laugh sounded like....I wish I could have seen you play with friends....I hardly hear you laugh NOW." She suddenly realized. "You usually chuckle a bit or only let out very small sounds. But I have never heard you truly laugh, Henry." She reached up and softly poked his nose.

The man opened his eyes then and looked into hers, as best as he could, considering their position. "Does that matter?"

"Yes." She responded immediately. "Laughter shows one's joy." She lifted her head a bit to be able to look down at him, taking in his dark green-hazel eyes. "I don't believe I have ever seen you show true joy before."

"What is there to be joyous about?" He asked her seriously.

"Life."

"Life is not joyful, Abigail. At least MINE isn't." He said, factually.

"Not even when you were with Nora? Or with your wife?" She wondered.

"No." He said without hesitation.

"Why not?"

"I'm not sure." His hand moved from her back to softly fiddle with the ends of her curls.

"Have you EVER felt differently?" She sat up even more so she was resting on her forearm beside him, taking note of how his fingers in her hair gave her chills and she loved it, hoping he'd never stop.

"About life?" Henry asked her while she nodded. "I don't know. I don't remember. The only thing I've ever felt since my parents died is how lousy it is to be human."

"That is no way to live, Henry. Didn't you feel joy when Lee promoted you to working in the office?"

"Not joy. Pride." He admitted.

"Doesn't being proud of yourself make you feel joy?" She added onto that.

"No, because who am I to share it with?"

"Me." She immediately felt the nerves in her stomach go wild as she said that so fast and she wondered if his stomach felt the same.

He softly sighed, looking into her eyes for a bit before looking up at the ceiling, his fingers still playing with the ends of her hair. "I meant what I said at Lee's house, Abigail. No one will like us together."

"Why do you care what they think?" She wondered aloud, reaching up to massage his hair in return.

"I no longer want to talk about this."