Bursts of orange sherbet streaked across the bed, as sunset fell. It was hard to imagine that they'd talked that long about how different their lives would have been if she had not pushed him away.  The conversation got intense at times old ways of dealing with each other had to change.

If it took verbal boot camp to make things right then so be it.  Love sometimes must be tough.  Neither of them held back. Somewhere between the laughter and the tears, the healing began.  And as painful as it was for both of them the joy of open communications won out.  It's just something about expressing real feelings; being vulnerable and dropping the masks that make the relationship grow.  Dark clouds scattered and the warm healing rays of the sun pierced through.  It was all good. 

The bedroom provided Zara a place to lick her wounds, and unlike the other night, he gave her space.  She hadn't heard a sound – no TV playing, no movement in the kitchen, nothing. "A surgeon cuts deep, but not to kill you," he'd said, as she rushed from the solarium earlier that day.

At that moment the realization that the snowstorm had placed Zara just where Roman wanted her was mind-bending – checkmate.  Facing the truth of Roman's words stung like an open cut, but not without bandages. Her lips were swollen from the amount of time that they kissed over and over to ease the pain of straight talk. There was much comfort in making up from words that would otherwise break them. Zara was proud of herself for not running from communications. For once in her life, she faced the truth with acceptance.

She closed her eyes feeling the sting of one of the most painful memories that she had to deal with today. 

***

"Two years ago I wanted us to get together. There was nothing I could have said to make things more clear.  I felt you, Zara. I knew that you were on the edge of letting go. But you held back and returned to Georgia a few days later and shut me out."

"Something happened, Roman."

"What?"

Placing her face in her hands, Zara sat on the lounge chair in the solarium not able to look at him.  How many times was she going to do this – avoid talking?  Nerves spilled out into tapping fingers against the arm of the chair. The words hung in her throat like cement blocks. Invisible fingers choked the air from her lungs.  The bewildered look in his eyes, twisted knots in her stomach.  She owed him an explanation – the truth. Taking a deep breath she pressed on.

"You are right, I was on the edge of letting go.  What you said about the mandala got to me.  I'd never heard a more beautiful story.  It fit our situation and I knew that you'd poured your heart out to me.  The last thing that I wanted to do was to hurt you."  She leaned over and squeezed his hand. "I wanted to be yours at that moment.  But a few days earlier I'd gotten some news. It was too disturbing that I couldn't talk. To hear you speak about a bright future with the news that I'd gotten didn't make a pretty picture."

The pained expression led Roman to sit beside her, tucking Zara under his arm. God, don't let her be sick. His heart pounded, as he braced himself for what was coming.  He felt her body trembling. "I'm sorry, let's stop here – no more today."

"No, everything that we've gone through is because of lack of communications or miscommunications. I love you.  We've got to break out of this cycle." 

The words coming from her mouth stunned her.  She couldn't believe that she was taking responsibility and the initiative.  But it was now or never.  The blizzard created the perfect storm for it to be now.   She shook her head in anguish thinking about the cards life dealt her.  Hurling the biggest blow against her dreams, her womanhood and the visions that she saw of her future with him.  Zara rested her head on his shoulder, sinking into the familiar comfort and told the painful story.

***

There was a knock on the door, pulling Zara from the memory. A sliver of light cracked through the door. "It's been several hours, needed to make sure that you are okay."

"I'm fine."

"Okay, he said, pulling the door shut. 

Zara called out to him. "Come sit with me – please." Watching his face lift made her smile. He must have worried sick over her. She patted the bed and he scooted up, laying his head on Zara's lap.  Trailing her hand across his face, she said, "I never imagined that a doctor would tell me that I might not be able to have children. And Calista died before..."

Roman couldn't imagine the pain that Zara found herself in.  He thought carefully about what to say because he didn't want to add to her misery.  The ability to bear children is a great gift for any woman that people take for granted.  The sadness in her weary eyes ripped at his soul. The words from the diagnosis pounded in his head but he couldn't let Zara see how torn up that he was on the inside.  Instead, he pulled her closer, resting a hand on her shoulder. "No matter what life does it will be okay.   You and I  - that's enough."

"You say that now, but what's going to happen down the road?"

"Then we'll adopt," Roman squeezed Zara's hand.  "The doctor didn't say that it could not happen.  He said that it might not happen. Might is a word filled with possibilities."

She hummed feeling the comfort in those words. He was right.  It wasn't utter doom.  At this point, there was as much power in believing that I might not have a child, as I might have a child.  Zara had to determine whether she would look at the glass as half empty or half full.   Though Roman's face sank at the news there was still hope in his eyes.  That thought made her want to believe him. 

Yes, might is filled with possibilities.  Snuggling closer a heaving breath fell from her lips. It just registered that she'd been holding it in waiting for his response.  Now that hurdle passed over, but there was still another to come - a part that connected to the doctor's report. But there was no way that she wanted to discuss it.   That would have to wait for another time.

The conversations today felt like milestones in their lives.  Yet, a foreboding presence enveloped the room like a thick fog. This roughness of getting things out in the open weighed on both of them.  Caution made him want to push back and end things right there.  But a nagging feeling made him want to bring closure to all that haunted them from their past. He knew that she held back.  "Is there anything else on your mind, treasure?"

This man can see right through me. "Yes, but I'm not able to talk about it, yet."

"Willing or able," he said.

God, you've got me completely on his hook. As much as I hate feeling this pressure I know that we need this. "Able."

Heat radiated as Roman kissed her hand, dragging his lips up her arm.  "We promised that nothing would be withheld."

"I will keep that promise," she breathed, as he sucked on her neck.

"Okay, precious."

His hand ran across the swell of her breast, down into the double - D cups. Zara's back arched as he toyed with one nipple and then the other.  His thumb circled, feeling them harden. Roman squeezed and caressed her breasts until she moaned. His darkened orbs watched her intently; long lashes fluttered open, only to close again from pleasure.  Finally.  Something in his heart soared watching the walls come down. He stroked harder under the bra, feeling her soft flesh mold into his hands, lifting he kissed across her cleavage. "Love you."

Then he eased off, hearing her pant. Her eyes drifted open, looking onto the smoldering heat in his. Not a single word passed between them, but Zara got the message when he slid from the bed and walked out of the door.  This was going to be a slow path to passion, a seduction that she would long for. Fire spread across her skin igniting from where he kissed her.  It rolled across her body in waves dismantling any remnant of walls left. The anticipation of Roman's love for the rest of her life left Zara unhinged.  Her mind replayed the feel of his hot hands on her breasts. She turned and bit the pillow, closing her legs tight from the throbbing all over.