Dancing with Time

Forced Compromise

"I'm a simple-minded fuck who can't read your mind, and even if I could, I would be so lost in the sheer volume of thoughts and feelings it wouldn't do me any good. I need you NOT to shut me out. To explain yourself. To help me understand you. To be your authentic self with me. But with concise communication." ― Jessika Klide, Big Book Boss

The following five days unfolded in a silent dance of proximity and distance. Keith, a steadfast presence in her parents' house, refused to leave Juliet's side. Yet, she remained resolute, ensuring he occupied the guest room. Each morning, however, the ghost of his scent lingered on her pillows, a bittersweet reminder of the man who was only a heartbeat away, yet worlds apart.

The specter of Keith's infidelity haunted Juliet, a relentless shadow cast by his very presence. Innocent brushes of his fingertips against her skin ignited a fire within her, while his attentive nature felt like a balm to her wounded heart. He took on the task of preparing nourishing meals for her and their unborn child, his gentle care a lifeline she couldn't refuse, even as guilt gnawed at her. She craved his attention, greedily accepting the fleeting comfort it offered while fiercely guarding her true feelings.

Juliet's emotions were a tumultuous storm. One moment, she ached to surrender to the love and care radiating from Keith; the next, a burning desire to inflict physical pain, to mirror the shattering of her heart. Weeks of separation had become an agonizing purgatory.

At times, she yearned to banish Keith from her childhood home, unable to bear the torment of his nearness. Yet, her heart reveled in his proximity, even as her mind warned of the inevitable crash when he would leave. Juliet desperately craved control, the power to sever the ties that bound her to her husband. Every night, tears soaked her pillow as she vowed to confront him, to demand his departure. The thought of returning to their shared home, now tainted by Cassandra's presence, filled her with revulsion. The memory of their marital bed, once a sanctuary of love and intimacy, now desecrated, was unbearable.

The evening before her parents and Jeremy were to depart for Kansas, Juliet, seeking respite from the persistent nausea that clung to her like a shadow, proposed a moonlit stroll. Jeremy, ever the doting brother, readily agreed.

Hand in hand, they ambled through the familiar tapestry of their neighborhood, the quiet punctuated only by the rhythmic crunch of leaves beneath their feet. "How are you faring, sis?" Jeremy inquired, his voice laced with concern.

Juliet offered a noncommittal shrug. "Some days are kinder than others," she admitted, relishing the cool caress of the breeze against her skin. "Mother is both elated and apprehensive about becoming a grandmother. I can sense her anxieties, though she tries to mask them."

Jeremy nodded in agreement. "She's holding up remarkably well, all things considered."

A pregnant pause hung in the air before Jeremy broached a more delicate subject. "Do you recall your promise, the one you made the day after your wedding?" His tone grew serious, and Juliet braced herself for the inevitable inquisition.

"Yes," she murmured, turning her gaze towards the moon-kissed flowers in a neighboring yard. "I promised to tell you if Keith ever caused me pain."

"And is everything... alright between you two?" Jeremy pressed, his voice thick with worry.

"Everything is fine," Juliet replied, her words carefully crafted to shield Keith from the protective wrath of the Wagner men. The lie tasted bitter on her tongue, a stark reminder of the fractured heart she carried within her.

"Good," Jeremy said, seemingly reassured by her facade. "Perhaps I should have fetched you a sweater before we ventured out. The night air carries a chill, especially considering your... condition." A playful lilt entered his voice as he teased her about the pregnancy.