Forgive Us Our Trespasses

I hurriedly wash my make-up off, brush my teeth, and take my hair out of the wild bun creation I had used to tame it during di

It swings open within seconds, and Brooks’ eyes stroll down the length of my body before eventually meeting my eyes. The corners of his mouth curl up, and a mischievous look takes hold, letting me know that he appreciates what he sees.

He looks completely edible in his blue fla

I step through the door and quietly close it behind me, careful not to wake the sleeping children down the hall. Brooks pulls me into to his strong arms, and his cologne envelops me. I melt into him as the feeling of safety washes over me. He grasps my hips tightly, and I can hear him exhale deeply into my hair; he is allowing himself to relax into me as well.

“I still can’t believe you’re here. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this; I just wouldn’t let myself believe that it was possible,” he whispers into my neck.

I rest my head against his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heart. “I never thought I would see you again. I think we both have tried to forget about one another, and what we had. I think we both know now that our love is unforgettable. When we aren’t together, we are just pretending to be whole,” I say softly. Brooks grips me tighter with every word, as if he’s afraid that if he lets go my words will disappear.

I pry myself away from him, hoping that when I meet his eyes I will see my feelings reflected back at me. But I see more than yearning and love shining through–I see sadness, relief, even regret. Brooks cups my face and draws me to his lips.

“Thank you for letting me make this right, Red. I’ll never disappoint you again,” he murmurs before crashing down onto my eager lips.

His embrace and his kiss are firm, almost desperate. I match his enthusiasm as my own desires reach a fever pitch. We are clawing at each other’s clothing, leaving a trail of garments as Brooks walks our tangled bodies from the door towards his massive bed. When the backs of my knees hit the mattress, he leans into me, causing me to lie flat on the bed. He quickly covers me with his own perfectly-sculpted body.

His kiss becomes more delicate as he hovers above me. I wrap my legs around him, pulling him closer, and I feel his excitement against me. Feeling empowered by him, I take control by deepening the kiss once more. I ca

As I edge closer to losing control, my heart begins to race, and the gravity of the situation slaps me in the face. We are both naked in his bed with our children just a few rooms away and I’m letting myself get too carried away too soon. My guilt takes hold as Will invades my thoughts, and I push Brooks away, tears begi

“What? Did I do something wrong?” Brooks asks; his look of confusion and hurt squeezes my already-bruised heart.

Unable to look at his wounded expression, I maintain a lowered gaze at his chest. I take notice of every inch, the firm defined muscles, the small patch of hair nestled between his pecs. “I’m so sorry, Brooks. We are just moving too fast. I’m not ready to move things forward yet.” The fear of confessing my guilt is evident in the broken whisper of my voice.

He rolls off me, throwing his arms up to cover his face and I’m unsure of whether he’s angry or hurt. I just lie still, struggling to steady my breathing and hold back the tears that threaten to spill over my lids. I wait for enough clues to understand his emotions, and enough time to control my own.

“Do you not want me because you don’t trust me?” Brooks finally asks, not looking at me.

My confliction plays out across my face, and the dam holding back my tears crumbles. I hastily wipe away the drops of my pain, attempting to mask my emotions from Brooks. “I’m sorry, Brooks; it’s not about that. I do trust you; I’m just not ready.” My voice strains through the words.

Taking notice, Brooks lowers his arms and turns to face me. Slowly, he brings his thumb to my cheek to brush away my remaining tears. “Hey now,” he whispers, his thumb sliding down to trace the lines of my lower lip. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m not angry with you, Viv; I’m mad at myself for putting you in the position to question my sincerity. If that isn’t the issue, please talk to me.” He moves his hand to the back of my neck and rests his head on mine, closing his eyes. “Let me fix this,” he exhales.

“I don’t know if you can,” I admit. “I want you; I want us. I just feel so guilty that I’m betraying Will by being with you. I want more than anything for that guilt to fade, and I’m so afraid that it never will.”

His eyes slowly open as my confession sinks in and surrounds us. “Oh, babe, you aren’t betraying him. I know that he hated me because of how I treated you, and I can never undo that. But at the time, I needed you to not want me; I needed you to fall in love with someone safe. Will was safe, and as much as it killed me that it wasn’t me with you, I was so thankful that it was him in my place.”

My breath trembles, and I feel my body quake as I listen to his explanation. “Why does that make it all right for us to be together now?” I ask as I lightly run my fingernails down the length of his back.

“Because, Clover, it’s my turn to be the safe choice, and I will do anything and everything to prove that he would be thankful it’s me in his place.”

Relief washes over me, and I smile through my remaining tears. I lean forward and faintly caress his lips with mine, showing my appreciation for his words. “Thank you for that. Can we just hold each other tonight? I want to feel your arms around me.”

“Of course, Viv, I wouldn’t want you to be any other place. I’m not going anywhere; we can go as slow as you need.”

I settle into his side and lay my head on his chest, listening to his easy breathing. The even rhythm calms me, and with his arms around me, peace shrouds me. Any bit of the guilt that had been crushing me is lifted.

We lay in a comfortable silence. Brooks occasionally places a tender kiss on my head, and I use my fingertips to trace the outline of the tattoo that covers his ribs. I hadn’t really noticed it in our earlier frenzy, but now I pause to explore every colorful curve and solid line.

The script, ‘Forgive Us Our Trespasses’ is written in a beautifully intricate scroll. The words themselves are simple but familiar. I have never been religious, but the words are ones that have been imprinted in my mind since the death of my father. They carry a weight that I have struggled to live up to, break free from.

Each word flows freely down the length of his side in one long black line. The only color comes from the thorn-covered vines that weave through the lettering and the vibrant green clovers that pin down each side of the phrase.

I suspend my movement when I get to the clovers, but I disregard the possible meaning of their presence.

“What is it?” Brooks asks, feeling my hesitation.

“Nothing, it’s just your tattoo. The quote you have is from the Lord’s Prayer; I didn’t know that you were religious,” I say and then continue my skin perusal.

Brooks latches onto my hand, halting my inspection. “I’m not religious,” he says, bringing my wrist to his lips and kissing my pulse line.

I stretch my neck to meet his gaze, and he smiles down at me. As quickly as his smile appears, it is replaced with a seriousness that heightens my anxiety level. “My tattoo represents many things, things that I don’t want to ever forget. It’s my reminder of the mistakes I’ve made, and my weaknesses that caused those mistakes, but it’s not all bad. My dreams are there too, and my hopes for what I always wanted in my life.”