Tears of Heaven - A Love Story

Tears -

Eleven

Hearing myself moan loudly I jerked awake. Beads of sweat covered my forehead and my pillow was damp. I turned and looked at the clock.

It was only three-thirty in the morning.

And I was trembling.

The reoccurring nightmare that had stopped a couple of weeks before was now back. I wiped a hand across my forehead and sat up. My first thought was one of gratitude–gratitude for the knowledge that it had only been a dream. My second was of Sergei.

Sergei, the angel who loved me.

Sergei, the beautiful, amazing man who pledged his heart and soul to me, yet had no idea of how grievous the baggage coming with me really was.

Would it always be this way? Would my past be continually lurking, waiting to come between us? Could I honestly make him happy?

Pulling my knees up, I closed my eyes and rested my head against them. Then the tears came. I didn't know if I could go through with this. I loved Sergei with every fiber of my being, but I didn't know if I could bind him to me knowing I could go off the deep end at any minute. He deserved better than that.

Will I have any peace, Father?

My internal question was met with silence.

I lay back down and pulled the covers over me, my damp skin beginning to chill. I again told myself I could not let Ross steal my happiness.

If only I would listen to myself.

If only I could believe it.

 * * *

Two hours later I was still awake.

I needed Sergei.

It was early and I knew I would most likely be waking him, but I called him anyway. As soon as I heard his sleep-filled voice, the tears came.

“It's me,” I managed to say. “I'm sorry to call you so early.”

“It is all right, angel. What is wrong?”

The concern in his voice brought my emotions completely to the surface again. “I need you.” My voice broke.

“I am on my way.”

 * * *

I met Sergei at the door. Once inside, he immediately pulled me into his arms and I clung to him.

“I am here,” he soothed. “I am here, baby.”

We went up to my room. He sat on the bed and held me on his lap, rocking me back and forth. I continued to cling to him, grateful to have his arms around me. As long as I was sheltered in his embrace, the fears went away.

“Talk to me, dushenka,” he said after a long while. “What is troubling you?”

“Nothing,” I said against his shoulder.  I couldn't bring myself to tell him about the dream or the letter. “I just needed you. I needed to have you hold me, to hear you say you love me, and that everything will be okay.”

Sergei pulled back a little and looked into my eyes. I could see him trying to read in them what I didn't say, what I couldn't say. I knew he didn't understand. How could he? How could I explain to him  that there was still a part of me he didn't know, a part of me that was still frightened to the core of my past?

He must have seen something there because his eyes quickly misted. He pressed a gentle hand to my face. “I love you, Heaven, more than anything else in the world” He kissed my lips. “Everything will be all right,” he whispered.

“Promise me,” I pleaded.

He pulled me tightly against him. “I promise, baby.” He kissed me again and murmured, “I promise.”

* * *

Tennessee

Ross leaned back in the leather recliner and closed his eyes, soaking in the darkness of the living room, his right hand holding a glass of vodka, and contemplated his next move. He had temporarily lost something he was determined to get back.

If Heaven thought she could just walk away from him, she had better think again. He had invested too much time and emotion in her and he wasn't about to let it all go to waste. No matter what she thought, she was his, and she would always be.

He lifted the glass to his lips and took a healthy swallow, grimacing slightly as the burning liquid rolled down his throat and heated his already warm insides. It seemed he was drinking more these days, and of course, it was Heaven's fault. Drinking was the only way he could sooth his emotions. There were plenty of women who were willing to ease his loneliness, and he had been with a few, but the hour or two spent in their willing arms meant nothing to him. The ease of which they succumbed to him disgusted him, causing thoughts of violence to surged through him when he was with them, yet he stayed his hand. Well, all but once, but he'd managed to keep the girl quiet so far. He wasn't about to risk ruining everything over mindless bimbos who would most likely send the law after him for a little roughness. No, he couldn't let that happen. Nothing would stand in the way of him getting his property back.

Nobody leaves me! he mentally shouted. Nobody!