Unspoken

Chapter 19

October 27, 1992

Marlena lay beside the salt water pool with her feet dangling in the water. She stared up at the bluest sky, watching soft fluffy clouds float overhead. It was cool out. The temperature was barely above 75 degrees fahrenheit, but the breeze felt good, and the sun on her skin was heavenly. She closed her eyes, listening to the sound of the sea hitting the cliffside below the villa. It was so different from the soft, gentle sounds of the Salem River against the pilings.

She and John hadn't discussed making love since the afternoon it happened. That didn't mean she hadn't thought about it a hundred different times. She had. But, he went back to sleeping in a guest room, and she stared at her bedroom ceiling every night remembering what they did in her bed. Marlena didn't know why John chose the guest bedroom. He and Isabella had never stayed at the villa before, so he had no memories of her there, but perhaps it was because that's where they would have slept - had Isabella lived a longer life. The inner workings of a person's mind was often hard to work out.

She took a deep breath, stretching her arms above her head. Arching her back, she felt her spine pop. Sighing softly, she relaxed, and opened her eyes again. Being so far away from Roman had changed her. At first it was difficult for her to understand why, but she'd figured it out. In Salem, when Roman was in the house, she couldn't relax. She was in a constant state of hypervigilance. She spent her life waiting for his next complaint, his next upset, his next criticism. As soon as he walked in the front door, she felt like she had to be busy. She'd leave the room to start laundry, or go clean the bathroom. Anything to be busy, and not perceived. She felt guilty for reading, or watching television, and why? For relaxing? For taking time for herself? It had taken removing herself from the situation to even recognize it for what it was.

After coming to Italy, her body relaxed within days. Her sleep improved within two weeks. Her dreams had become less confusing and convoluted. Her nervous system was healing itself, and that was what really opened her eyes. She'd never told anyone that she was often so tense when she laid down at night, that the only way she could relax was by pretending she was deflating. They'd likely have laughed if she had. She'd close her eyes, and imagine her toes, her fingers, and her feet slowly losing mass onto the mattress. It was a mental exercise, and even still she'd wake the next morning with a sore jaw, and clenched teeth.

Deciding to try and make her marriage to Roman work after they returned from Mexico had been a mistake. At the time, it had made sense. John was going to make a life with Isabella, and Marlena had the twins and Carrie to consider. She'd acted too hastily. Probably because she was hurting, and pushing on with her life seemed like the best thing to do. She should have taken Roman's transition into their lives, and their home at a much slower pace. That was a mistake she would regret for the rest of her life. Carrie had moved out prematurely, and Marlena knew she was struggling financially. Sami and Eric asking to stay in Colorado had been surprising, and heartbreaking. Marlena felt like she'd had no time with them at all, and instead of insisting they come home, Roman had encouraged them. Then he'd manipulated her, promising the time alone would help them make their way back to each other. It hadn't. He'd used it as an excuse to work more.

She touched her lips gently. Earlier, just after she'd put Brady down for a nap, John had kissed her in the kitchen. She'd been washing bottles one moment, the next, he was in front of her with the saddest eyes. No words. He laced his fingers into her hair, and he'd kissed her. A soft kiss, a simple brush of the lips, causing her to blush deeply. It was followed by a few more. Nothing more, and yet his firm hands on her hips, her waist, her spine... his fingers in her hair, as he moaned into her mouth, sliding his tongue... She whimpered softly, and closed her eyes to try and rid herself of the thoughts she was having. It didn't work. She could still see the wet, slightly soapy handprint on his cotton t-shirt. Her mind whispered, it was only kisses. That's all.