| Subject: WTTS2 - 83a |
Author:
KT
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Date Posted: 22:06:11 01/11/02 Fri
In reply to:
KT
's message, "Window to the Soul 2 - More (splitting the thread *as requested by Sanlin*)" on 21:52:29 01/11/02 Fri
Window to the Soul 2 - Part 83a
By KT
Copyright December 13, 2000
The weekend passed uneventfully at the Wirth house. Sabine and Roberta, in a private discussion, decided not to mention Michael's visit.
"We must leave them to their own devices," Sabine wisely counseled Roberta.
"I suppose so," Roberta sighed. "I just wish..."
"Roberta," Sabine admonished her, "no amount of wishing will make it so."
At Roberta's hurt look, she reproved a bit more gently. "You of all people know that the path of true love is never easy. Why should it be different for them? I believe that in the end, it will bring them closer together."
"Or push them forever apart," Roberta rejoined tartly.
Sabine shrugged. She knew that only time and willingness would repair the rift between them.
"They can never be apart. Not now, not ever. They are each other, and that cannot be destroyed, even by separation or death." Sabine mulled thoughtfully. "Sooner or later, they will reach the conclusion that they cannot live without each other."
"Well, sooner would be better for me. I don't have much time."
"Ah, but you are luckier than most. You know the certainty of the end. You can make each day count. The rest of us tend to take life for granted. We never think that today might be the last day of our lives."
Roberta finally relented. "Sabine, you are the only person I've ever met, besides Jamie, who doesn't take life for granted."
Nikita spent hours at the piano, practicing the de Falla. Though the past week had been demanding, it hadn't worn her out. She was feeling strong and ready to face the future. She marvelled at the resilience of the human body, and at her own ability to regain her footing after the difficulties she had encountered. The music took her to new places, gave her new challenges, pulled her soul to new heights.
As she played, she realized how much her life had changed. She had forged a relationship with her mother. She had realized her dream of a musical career. Good people had come into her life. The faces of Jamie and Sabine and Gwen flitted across her mind. As the vision faded, Michael's face rose and came into focus. His eyes spoke eloquently of every emotion they had shared... curiosity, trepidation, discovery, joy, ecstasy, love, respect, doubt, fear, forgiveness, acceptance, anger, hurt...
Her fingers began to slow as she realized how much a part of her he was. Her body began to tremble, and her face started to crumple as tears rose and flowed unrestrained down her cheeks. Her hands stopped moving and left the keyboard to cover her face as she cried. Her shoulders sagged and her head bowed.
"Oh Michael, what have I done?" she whispered, as the last of the notes died away.
* * * * * * * *
Michael spent the weekend practicing his cello and working out at the dojo. He hadn't slept much, and decided that if he could just wear himself out, he could relax. Problem was, the more he did, the more energized he felt. Finally, it was his mental practice that allowed him to calm himself and focus on what he needed to do in the coming week. It would be busy, and if he let his relationship with Nikita interfere with his duties, then Madeleine would have been right all along, and Paul Wolfe's unwavering faith in him would be betrayed.
He decided to catch up on his correspondence and wrote a letter to Adam and one to his sister. He found himself pouring his heart out to Michelle, telling her of his meeting Nikita and of all that had happened since. He told her of his deep love for Nikita, of all that they had been through together, of Karen Kent's jealous rage, the accident... he told her everything except that which he had promised Nikita never to tell. He told her of his vow that they should possess each other body and soul.
As he wrote, he realized that it was no longer just a simple vow. It was reality. Whether they were together or not, their lives were no longer their own. They belonged to each other forever. Inseparable. For all time.
Michael stopped writing and stared at his letter. The words jumped off the paper and burned their image into his mind. Forever. He finished the letter, his mind whirling, a smile beginning to tug at the corners of his mouth. The final pieces of his plan fell neatly into place as he sealed the letters and put on his coat.
First, the post office. Then... oh, yes, this was good...
* * * * * * * *
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