Reconcile

I'm a writer and a damn good one...as evidenced by the record breaking sales ;) (my one-day-dream) and this here was inspired by Bryan Adams' Please Forgive Me. I credit all copyrights accordingly; all characters and settings are fictional and not intended to emulate anyone and if anyone has a similar story out there then Great minds think Alike cause I sure don't plagiarize. Onwards.

He stormed through the house, throwing his coat to his butler carelessly before pounding determinedly up the stairs. He couldn't believe the woman's gall. Leaving him to explain her abrupt departure from the ball. Fine, so he was at fucking fault; but she; as a woman; should have handled his temper far better than running away like a little girl. All her claims of being adult and mature were erased by that one move.
He stopped abruptly outside her room, knowing instinctively she would be in there like a chit hiding away from her parents because they refused to buy her a pony. He snorted derisively. She'd probably given her parents hell while growing up.
He tried the door knob and found it unwilling. So he banged against the door until it rattled against its hinges. "Open up!" he bellowed.
Silence greeted him, making him more incensed. "Woman; if you don't open this door, I will break it down!"
"Go ahead, you insufferable oaf!"
Well, at least she wasn't angry enough to give him the silent treatment. He hated that.
"Open up," he asked at a lower volume. A movement in his periphery caught his eye and he turned to see his wife's lady hanging in the wings, like she could possibly protect her mistress from him. He threw her a scathing look and though she winced, she stayed firm. Women, he grunted; ever out to kill him.
"No," his wife responded.
"Why?" he asked absently.
She released a cry of disbelief. "Because you humiliated me tonight."
"I did no such thing," he growled.
"Yes; because calling me fat in front of all your friends with such disdain is not humiliating."
"I did not-."
"Yes, you did! You compared me to a cow. A cow, Philip. Like I can be traded at the market and not even for all that high a price. You say that after you leave my side all night."
He grunted in exasperation and leaned his head against the door. "All this drama for that?"
He stumbled forward as the door suddenly fell open and his wife's angry face was in his line of vision suddenly.
"Yes," she cried and moved to slam the door closed but he stopped her, one arm taking the force of the door while the other pushed her back.
He slammed the door closed behind him and turned to face her exasperated. He was ready to tear into her, convince her it was such a childish, stupid thought to misconstrue his words. Then he noted her sadness and he fought his anger beneath the surface.
"Why are you sad?"
She grunted her scoff and turned away from him.
"I didn't mean it that way," he said sincerely.
"Sure," she responded sarcastically.
"Truthfully. I saw you dancing with...him and I felt...jealous and I-," he broke off knowing he really had meant to insult her. "I am sorry," he said in a soft voice.
"You are never sorry," she threw back his declaration at her.
"I am now."
She turned to face him, wiping her face and making him feel like a cad. "Why did you do it?"
He sighed and looked down ashamed. Then he looked into her eyes. He started walking to her and she stepped back. He was quicker than she and he grabbed her wrist, pulling her to him. If she couldn't believe his words; she would believe his body. She always did.
When he made to kiss her, she ducked and twisted herself from his hold.
"It's not that easy this time," she declared with an air of offense.
"I don't like it when you dance with him," he said stoically, earning a look of annoyance.
"We're married."
"He doesn't act like he knows that. The way he looks at you and touches you-," he broke off at the disgust he felt at the thought of her ex-suitor being so close to her. "It makes me crazy. And I'm sorry that I insulted you. I...wanted to hurt you like your dancing with him hurt me."
He reached out again and took her hand gently. She let him pull her towards him, letting his hand slide around her waist.
"I am sorry."
She looked at him blandly.
"I just...I can't help the way I feel for you," he forced out, smiling at the look of surprise in her eyes. "These past few years that we've been together...I have still been in love with you. I don't show it in a normal way, I know but I do."
He leaned in to kiss her but she shied away. He insisted until she gave in, their lips moving from gentle touches to searingly intense lockings. He savoured her fingers delving into his hair, sending tingles down his spine. He reached for her gown's collar but she pulled away vehemently, shaking her head at him.
"Not again. Not this time."
"Don't deny me."
"Why? You deny me all the time," she threw back. "You always leave me; you always leave me alone."
"It's the way I am."
"It's the way you want to be!"
He took a step forward and she ran around the bed.
"Just leave me alone tonight; please just go to whoever it is you go to for your release and leave me alone like you always do."
He rolled his eyes at her dramatics and stalked around the bed. She couldn't escape him unless she went over the bed; which was her intention but not a well thought out plan. The textures of her gown and the bed-cover slowed her down enough for him to get to her, grabbing her ankle and turning her over so quickly that by the time she was putting up a fight he was on the bed leaning over her.
He leaned in and smelled her skin, nuzzling her neck and putting a kiss on her that made her push him away forcefully. He ignored her resistance, sitting up to undo his waistcoat and shirt. In one move, they were both off and she paused in her struggle. He smirked, knowing she liked what she saw.
He leaned over her slowly, letting his body move so languidly that his muscles rippled fluidly. He heard her breath hitch and smiled. He kissed her forehead, trailing down to her ear.
"It's just the way I love you is so intense. I am scared of hurting you with it; of scaring you off. I don't mean to push you away. I didn't mean to make you feel alone," he kissed her ear, feeling her shiver. "Let me prove it to you."
He kissed his way down her jaw, nudging her head up to kiss her neck and under her chin.
"Believe me, sweetheart. I love you and I've never stopped," he kissed his way down to her decolletage, tugging at her gown's collar.
She put her hands over his waist, pushing slightly at him until he sat up. Then she leaned up on her elbows and started pulling at the gown's back. He shifted backwards off the bed quickly and pulled her to stand up and made short work of her gown's laces. He didn't wait for the dress to fall off before pulling her to him and kissing her for all he was worth.
He picked her up and climbed the bed with her, laying her across it and making love to her far more intensely than ever before. When he entered her, he paused, rising up onto his forearms and waiting until she looked up at him.
 "You feel so much better than I remember," he kissed her deeply and started moving ever so slowly.
"There's only you. There's only ever been you," she whispered, tears brimming in her eyes. "You're the only one I'll ever want, Philip. I'll never stop loving you."
He sped up with every declaration of love, until her tears were overshadowed by her pleasure. Climaxed and well spent, he slid out of her and lay beside her, covering her with his arm.
"I meant it, Georgie," he whispered. "I'm sorry for the way I love you but I do love you."
She nodded against him, giving him a light kiss on his chest. "I love you, too."
"I know."