You're Just Not My Type

You're Just Not My Type (Chapter 18)

18.

"I told you two! Don't you two even think about it in my house!" Bobbie called from another room.

Thomas groaned as he reluctantly released Anne causing her to pout. She was ready, she wanted him more than anything and Bobbie was going to dictate when she would make love to someone or not! "Are you going to listen to her?" Anne asked in quiet tones giving Thomas a sour look.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because I want to remain by you to insure you're safe. And I can't do that if she kicks me out." Thomas said, his face now read of one of complete defeat.

Anne was stunned, it was noble of him to give up his own pleasure for her benefit, but it didn't change the fact that Anne was all worked up only to be shot down. Letting out a heavy sigh she rolled over moving her body as far away as she could physically do without falling off the bed. She knew her actions were probably hurting Thomas' feelings but she had no choice but to put space between them to keep herself safe.

Anne laid there for nearly an hour breathing calmly no where closer to falling asleep than she was an hour earlier. She turned her head to look at Thomas, who had his eyes closed. His chest rose and fell softly as if he was sleeping. She wanted to whisper to him but stopped herself. Thomas' skin glowed in the dark room, he features were soft, almost angelic.

As she watched him intently she couldn't help to have her mind wander, how would they continue any type of relationship knowing she'll get older and he wouldn't. He'd forever be a young man, always beautiful and sexy. But Anne wouldn't. She'd grow old, and wrinkly. How could anyone remain in love with that when they still look so young. At that she knew after everything was settled she'd have to end it, if not for herself but for Thomas. He can't spend the rest of eternity in love with the face she shared with Catherine, because that face wouldn't last. Once it was gone, she was certain he'd be gone with it.

Swallowing back the tears that build up in her throat Anne turned away looking out the window at the moon hanging high in the sky. Part of her was ready for this stressful time to be over, but then another side of her wasn't sure she could handle when it all came to an end. Tears silently trailed out of her eyes and across the bridge of her nose as she kept her head on the pillow and her eyes on the moon.

Somewhere in the middle of her self loathing and hateful words on time, Anne fell asleep in a light dreamless sleep. A sudden shift in the bed jostled her awake. Turning over she saw Thomas sitting on the edge of the bed, he head bowed and fingers raking through his hair.

"Tom?"

"Annie?" He turned quickly noticing she was awake. "Go back to sleep."

"What's wrong?" She sat up moving closer to put her hand on his back.

"Nothing." He whispered back to her.

"Doesn't look like nothing to me."

"Just had a bad feeling."

"About?" She pushed for more.

"Us. You and me."

"What about us?"

"Are you going to leave me after everything?" He asked bluntly. Every word cut like a knife as she sat there numb, how did he know that's what she had thought about.

"I-I"

"Anne?" He asked quietly, his eyes heavier with pain. "So it is true." Bowing his head again he sighed deeply.

"You won't want me when I get old, Tom. I will no longer look like Catherine. I'll have wrinkles, and nothing about me will resemble the former me." Anne's voice broke as she laid everything out for him. "Why would you want me to torment you any further?"