Curiously, as soon as he’d removed his hands from her shoulders, he’d placed them firmly on his desk, causing her to wonder what *that* was all about. She couldn’t help the disappointment that filled her at the loss of the gentle warmth on her body. It was crazy how his touch made her feel so –what was the word- wanted? needed?
She looked at his expression; it was open and honest.
“You are not a fool, Takagi Tokio, not by a long shot…neither am I…We both need time to make sense of this and to make sense of each other.”
She agreed with him on this point. Tokio had no idea of how to even *begin* to make sense out of having been this man’s wife in a past life. There was no way she could accept something like that immediately. Could she accept it at all? Only time would tell. Sharing that history with him –if that is what really happened, and he thought that it did- would take getting used to. It didn’t necessarily mean that in the future, she would return to being his wife. His *wife*. She couldn’t even wrap her mind around that one, much less think about what it would mean on a day to day basis.
But on the other hand, the thought of being *his wife* gave her a sense of safety, comfort, and peace. It gave her a sense of belonging that nothing in her life had ever given her before. On some level it made sense and it felt right. She had the distinct impression that this man –Hajime, her voice echoed- thought that many men were fools. She was humbled to know that he did not take her for one.
“I have not been with a woman, in any capacity, since my wife died”
It was none of her business whether he’d been with anyone since his wife died, but for some reason his action, or lack of it in this case, pleased and relieved her. Perhaps because it signaled to her that he was a man of commitment, who did not take relationships lightly. To her it meant that he would not share himself in that way unless his partner *meant* something deeper to him. His admission was most likely a response to her impromptu confession about her lack of experience in the more intimate matters between men and women. Was he also trying to reassure her that she could share her most private thoughts with him? If she had truly been his wife, that would have been the case during their marriage.
“I do not take this connection that we share, or the one with whom I have the honor of sharing it with lightly.”
He was deadly serious about all of this. In addition, he was *honored* to share this connection –whatever it was- with *her*. She was suddenly overcome with the feeling that she was someone of great value to this man. She sensed that this was not an easy admission for him, but he had wanted her to know –although he didn’t say it outright- that she was precious to him. That realization struck her in the heart. She could feel tears welling in her eyes again. She raised her hands to her face to wipe them away. He would think her a bubblering idiot if she kept getting weepy eyed.
“My course is already set, and has been from the moment I awoke in the shelter of your arms, but I give you my word of honor, that I will not ask anything of you, that you are not completely willing to give me.”
He couldn’t make himself more clear, if he’d hit her over the head with a club, and drug her into his cave. She appreciated his bluntness. She would not have to guess his intentions. Somehow she knew he would always be honest and straight forward with her, never making her doubt how he felt.
His words caused a vision from the diner - of her wrapping him in her tender embrace- to slip though her mind. And *now* she knew exactly what she wanted to be to *him*. She wanted to be his shelter, a place of reprieve where his heart could rest.
But most important of all, by not asking anything of her that she was not willing to give, he was giving her his ultimate respect. That realization hit her like a brick. She rested a hand on his forearm, giving it a gentle squeeze, she was sure that if he kept pushing his hands down on his desk like he was doing, it would surely be pushed through to the floor below.
“Thank you, Saitoh-san, for not pushing me beyond what I am willing and able to give you. I can’t predict the future, but I do want a chance to come to terms with all that I have learned today.” She hesitated, thinking about how bold her next statement would sound, “And I want a chance…to get to know you better. I cannot make promises, but I do know that I must walk a path of discovery with you.”
Her face flushed with embarrassment. She didn’t want to give him false hope, but she did want him to know that she could not turn her back on what he’d revealed to her. A little voice then reminded her that she wanted to be *his* shelter.
It seemed like she was on the brink of discovering a wonderful treasure that was locked away somewhere in her very essence and being, and this man had the key.
Perhaps it was time to give the talk of the past a rest. There were more pressing matters that affected the here and now. She’d come to return his firearm. He’d said earlier in their conversation that he would do what he could to keep her safe. It was time to change the subject.
“You offered me protection. What exactly did you have in mind?”
no subject
She looked at his expression; it was open and honest.
“You are not a fool, Takagi Tokio, not by a long shot…neither am I…We both need time to make sense of this and to make sense of each other.”
She agreed with him on this point. Tokio had no idea of how to even *begin* to make sense out of having been this man’s wife in a past life. There was no way she could accept something like that immediately. Could she accept it at all? Only time would tell. Sharing that history with him –if that is what really happened, and he thought that it did- would take getting used to. It didn’t necessarily mean that in the future, she would return to being his wife. His *wife*. She couldn’t even wrap her mind around that one, much less think about what it would mean on a day to day basis.
But on the other hand, the thought of being *his wife* gave her a sense of safety, comfort, and peace. It gave her a sense of belonging that nothing in her life had ever given her before. On some level it made sense and it felt right. She had the distinct impression that this man –Hajime, her voice echoed- thought that many men were fools. She was humbled to know that he did not take her for one.
“I have not been with a woman, in any capacity, since my wife died”
It was none of her business whether he’d been with anyone since his wife died, but for some reason his action, or lack of it in this case, pleased and relieved her. Perhaps because it signaled to her that he was a man of commitment, who did not take relationships lightly. To her it meant that he would not share himself in that way unless his partner *meant* something deeper to him. His admission was most likely a response to her impromptu confession about her lack of experience in the more intimate matters between men and women. Was he also trying to reassure her that she could share her most private thoughts with him? If she had truly been his wife, that would have been the case during their marriage.
“I do not take this connection that we share, or the one with whom I have the honor of sharing it with lightly.”
He was deadly serious about all of this. In addition, he was *honored* to share this connection –whatever it was- with *her*. She was suddenly overcome with the feeling that she was someone of great value to this man. She sensed that this was not an easy admission for him, but he had wanted her to know –although he didn’t say it outright- that she was precious to him. That realization struck her in the heart. She could feel tears welling in her eyes again. She raised her hands to her face to wipe them away. He would think her a bubblering idiot if she kept getting weepy eyed.
“My course is already set, and has been from the moment I awoke in the shelter of your arms, but I give you my word of honor, that I will not ask anything of you, that you are not completely willing to give me.”
He couldn’t make himself more clear, if he’d hit her over the head with a club, and drug her into his cave. She appreciated his bluntness. She would not have to guess his intentions. Somehow she knew he would always be honest and straight forward with her, never making her doubt how he felt.
His words caused a vision from the diner - of her wrapping him in her tender embrace- to slip though her mind. And *now* she knew exactly what she wanted to be to *him*. She wanted to be his shelter, a place of reprieve where his heart could rest.
But most important of all, by not asking anything of her that she was not willing to give, he was giving her his ultimate respect. That realization hit her like a brick. She rested a hand on his forearm, giving it a gentle squeeze, she was sure that if he kept pushing his hands down on his desk like he was doing, it would surely be pushed through to the floor below.
“Thank you, Saitoh-san, for not pushing me beyond what I am willing and able to give you. I can’t predict the future, but I do want a chance to come to terms with all that I have learned today.” She hesitated, thinking about how bold her next statement would sound, “And I want a chance…to get to know you better. I cannot make promises, but I do know that I must walk a path of discovery with you.”
Her face flushed with embarrassment. She didn’t want to give him false hope, but she did want him to know that she could not turn her back on what he’d revealed to her. A little voice then reminded her that she wanted to be *his* shelter.
It seemed like she was on the brink of discovering a wonderful treasure that was locked away somewhere in her very essence and being, and this man had the key.
Perhaps it was time to give the talk of the past a rest. There were more pressing matters that affected the here and now. She’d come to return his firearm. He’d said earlier in their conversation that he would do what he could to keep her safe. It was time to change the subject.
“You offered me protection. What exactly did you have in mind?”