“Sara, do you think you can get away from me?”
Her breathing hitched as she shook her head. The severed ends of her hair swung about her face. “No.”
“Do you want to?”
Her lip disappeared between her teeth before she whispered, “No, but I’m afraid.”
Watching her stand in front of me, I wondered about Brother Timothy and Sister Lilith’s intent. Was it to break her, to break us, to assure my failure? If that was their intention, they’d never win. Despite it all, Sara had the strength to answer me honestly.
“You’re afraid of me, your husband?”
She shook her head. “No, not of you, of what you’re going to do.”
I ran my hands up and down her arms, barely touching, yet warming my palms on the sleeves of her sweater. “What is it that I’m going to do?”
Releasing her lip, she replied, “I know I was wrong. I deserve your correction.”
My hands reached for hers. “Let me hear your transgressions, and then I’ll make that decision.”
“But Sister Lilith told me you would, that I deserved and needed . . .”
The temperature of the room rose a degree with each mention of their names. Nevertheless I couldn’t let Sara sense that anger. If correction was coming, it wasn’t to be done out of anger, but out of responsibility. “Your correction isn’t up to Sister Lilith or Brother Timothy; it’s at my discretion. Do you want me to ask again for your transgressions?”
“No,” she answered quickly. “I spoke to them without your permission, and after . . . my hair . . . I questioned . . . them both. Brother Timothy said I presumed discernment.” She shook her head. “I didn’t mean to, but he’s a Commissioner, so I must have.”
“Is there anything else?”
Her lip blanched as she concentrated. “I think I fell asleep during Father Gabriel’s teaching. I didn’t mean to,” she added quickly. “It’s that we woke early.”
I couldn’t stop the smile that crept across my face at her childlike honesty. I kissed the top of her head. “That would make four, unless you have more to add.”
Her hand flinched in mine at the number four. I knew what she was thinking: four transgressions equaled twenty lashes. Releasing one hand, I led her toward the stairs. “Let’s go upstairs.”
She didn’t fight or beg; instead her shoulders sagged and she willingly walked toward our room. As we reached the top step, Sara said, “Jacob . . .”
“Yes?”
“I understand why you’re doing what you’re doing. I’m not asking for leniency, but I want you to know how truly sorry I am.”
The redness on her cheeks and neck had nearly faded.
“Sara, it’s time to prepare.”
Nodding, she sat on the bed and removed her boot. When she stood and her black-and-white-striped skirt fell to the floor, I marveled at her calm. It was as Father Gabriel taught: once she’d given her transgressions to me, they were no longer her concern. As she pulled her sweater over her head, my pretense disappeared.
My gaze roamed her beautiful body, covered only by her bra and panties. The last remaining evidence of her accident was her cast. Other than that, her flawless skin glowed under our bedroom lights. I stepped closer, wanting to brush her arms as I had her sleeves, needing to touch her.
This time she didn’t step away; instead her face inclined as my chest met hers.
“Though your answer won’t change my decision, I want to know”—my arms ached to hold her, yet remained still as I completed my question—“do you believe you deserve correction?”
After only a moment’s hesitation, she replied, “I love and trust you. If it’s your wish, I accept it. If you choose otherwise, I’ll accept that too.”
My arms no longer obeyed. They wrapped around her and pulled her to me. With my lips against her hair, I said, “I had no intention of punishing you.” She melted into me. Lifting the tips of her hair, I continued, “This wasn’t supposed to happen. It wasn’t Father Gabriel’s decree. You’ve had enough reminding for one day. My dearest wife, I don’t think you need any more. Do you?”
Moving her head from side to side against my chest, she said, “Thank you. I’m still very sorry.”
As I lifted her chin, my body ached for her. “No more apologies. You were wronged; you didn’t do anything wrong.”
“But—”
I brushed my lips against hers to stop her rebuttal. However, instead of stilling her words, the connection served as a release. The desire I’d kept corralled for too long raged like a wildfire. Its flames consumed any remaining semblance of willpower. My grasp moved to the back of her neck. Only briefly did I think about the long blonde locks that were no longer there. They didn’t matter. My only thought, my only need, was to get closer to Sara, to feel her warmth beneath me, to take what God and Father Gabriel had given to me. To please her in the way I’d never done.