We spent the following weeks in the camp, awaiting the events that history had assured me would unfold. We trained diligently, and I honed my fighting skills under the guidance of Frida, Boleslaw, and Arne. I couldn't help but notice a growing connection between Frida and Arne as they relished their time together.
As a result, I found myself spending more and more time with Boleslaw. While I enjoyed his company, I sensed that he was starting to develop romantic feelings for me. I could feel his intense gaze upon me whenever I interacted with others or carried out my chores. The situation became somewhat awkward, especially at night when Arne would spend his evenings in Frida's tent, leaving Boleslaw and me alone together. I was unsure of how to navigate this situation—how does one gently let down a man like Boleslaw? He was tall, strong, masculine, an exceptional fighter, and a well-known and respected soldier. I knew his family, and they were lovely and held me in high regard.
If I were never to return home again, perhaps I should consider building a life here. A life with Boleslaw could be fulfilling. But what if Michael were to eventually resurface? Would I have to abandon Boleslaw and the potential children we might have to return to Robert? I do love Robert, Emily, and Jack. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I pondered it all.
"Bethania! Bethania! Are you here?" Frida's voice jolted me out of my thoughts.
"Here I am," I replied, wiping away my tears.
"Is everything alright?" she inquired, her eyes filled with concern.
"Yes, I just miss my family," I responded, picking up the basket filled with berries I had been gathering for the past hour.
"Your family? I... I didn't know you had a family. Is this about your father?" Frida asked, her voice filled with sympathy.
"No. I have a husband, Robert, and two children. Emily, a bright and kind-hearted girl, and Jack, a curious and clever boy, albeit a bit arrogant," I chuckled. "But they are no longer with me... they are not here."
"I had no idea... I'm sorry," Frida expressed her remorse.
"It's alright... Frida, I would like to accompany you to your clan and become one of your people. I need a fresh start. Would you be willing to take me?" I asked earnestly.
"Of course, we would be honoured to have you as one of our own... But I thought..." Frida hesitated.
"What is it?" I questioned, curious about her hesitation.
"What about Boleslaw? I thought that there might be something more between the two of you," Frida probed.
"Oh, no, we are just friends," I clarified.
"Does he know that?" Frida raised her eyebrows as she pressed further.
"What do you mean?" I raised my eyebrows, only to be interrupted by Boleslaw's voice.
"Bethania! Oh, there you are. Come, you have to see this! Arne and Ingr are juggling together, passing objects back and forth. It's quite impressive—I didn't want you to miss it," he exclaimed.
He grabbed my hand and pulled me through the forest towards the camp. I glanced at Frida, who raised her eyebrows and shook her head, observing Boleslaw's actions.
Later that evening, after dinner, I found myself sitting by the fire, gazing at the dancing flames. Boleslaw sat down next to me, and as the evening progressed, he inched closer and closer until our bodies were pressed against each other, leaving no space in between. I could feel his intense gaze fixed upon me. Taking a deep breath, I decided it was time to have the conversation, knowing that things would never be quite the same afterwards.
"Boleslaw," I began, turning to face him as our eyes locked. "I think we need to talk." I shifted my gaze back towards the flames, trying to avoid his penetrating stare.
"I was actually planning to talk to you tonight at the tent, where we could have some privacy, but if now is better, then I suppose we can discuss it here," he responded, his voice tinged with a mix of excitement and nervousness.
Glancing at him briefly, I redirected my attention to the dancing flames, attempting to avoid direct eye contact. Sensing his proximity growing even closer, I pressed on, eager to get my thoughts out.
"There's something you should know—I am married," I confessed, sensing his body tense up. "I have two children, a boy and a girl named Jack and Emily. Although they are not physically present in this time, they are still very much a part of me."
I felt him relax slightly, his tension easing.
"What I mean to say is that I am deeply committed to them. I am still a mother and a wife in my heart and mind... and I don't know if that could ever change," I explained, my voice filled with uncertainty.
"I understand," he responded in a deep voice, sending shivers down my spine. Surprised by my reaction, I turned to look at him. He was staring into the flames, lost in thought. After a moment, he continued.
"Bethania... I am honored that you have chosen to share this with me. It also confirms what I suspected—that you are aware of my feelings for you," he admitted, a mixture of affection and admiration evident in his words. "Over these past few weeks, I have grown to love you, and now I am ready to say that I want to share my future with you. You are an incredible woman, intelligent, strong, courageous, and kind to everyone around you... not to mention stunningly beautiful. Simply being in your presence has made me a better man. Your smile brings me joy, and I believe we complement each other well. However, I can't imagine the pain and scars you carry from losing your family. I want you to know that I am here for you, should you choose to accept me. I am ready to help you heal and build a new life. If you need time, I understand. Take as much time as you need, and I will be patient."
As he spoke, he turned towards me, and our eyes met once again. He gently placed his hand against my cheek, his warmth radiating onto my skin. My heart skipped a beat.
I could see his gaze shifting towards my lips as he leaned in closer. Inside, my mind was screaming, but outwardly, my body remained frozen, motionless. I didn't flinch as his lips finally met mine, bestowing a tender and delicate kiss.
I don't understand what's happening... The warmth from his lips, his hand on my cheek, and our bodies pressed together... Suddenly, the taste of salt interrupts our kiss. He must have tasted it too because he pulls back abruptly, and I open my eyes. Taking a deep breath, my head spinning, I don't realize I'm crying until he asks.
"Betania, why are you crying?"
Tears stream down my cheeks, and I feel like I'm on the verge of a complete breakdown. I manage to utter, "I'm sorry," before rushing away from the fireplace, desperate to distance myself from that moment I shared with Boleslaw.
I sprint into the forest, not stopping for a while. I need to exhaust my body, to be far away from everything and everyone so I can finally release everything inside me. As I gasp for breath, I collapse beneath a tree, and a torrent of sobs escapes my mouth.
I cry for my family, fearing I may never see them again. I cry for the life I once had, and for Michael and what might have happened to him. I cry because I find myself caught in an impossible situation. I can't start a new life here, knowing there's still a chance I might return to my real family.
Despite Boleslaw being a good man, and us potentially having a happy life together, even having more children to fill the void left by Emily and Jack in my heart... I would never forgive myself for abandoning Robert, Emily, and Jack.
I cry for hours, screaming, shouting, until I finally release it all. Exhausted, I eventually drift into sleep.
I awaken to raindrops pelting my face. It's early morning, the sun barely peeking through the clouds. I'm wet and cold, stranded in the middle of the forest with no idea how to find my way home.
Pulling my knees to my chest, I press myself against the tree trunk, seeking shelter from the rain. Shivering, I wish I had Michael's jacket with me now—warm and waterproof. Where could Michael be? How could he leave me here? My thoughts drift back to the events of last night, and the pain pierces through my heart and mind once again. No! I resolve to shake it off. Enough of feeling sorry for myself. It's time to take charge of my life.
I rise to my feet, looking around. Closing my eyes, I strain my ears for any sounds of the camp. There it is. I leave the shelter of the tree and sprint towards the camp.
When I arrive at the tent, I'm completely drenched. "Freezing" doesn't begin to describe the cold I feel. I must look like a mess—sleeping in the forest, covered in mud, leaves, and dirt, soaked to the bone, with my hair in disarray.
Entering the tent, I find Boleslaw sitting up, a blanket covering his legs. He looks at me with surprise, clearly interrupted from his thoughts.
"You're not asleep?" I say as I approach the bag with my dry clothes, searching for something warm.
"I couldn't sleep," he responds.
"I fell asleep in the forest; the rain woke me up," I reply, not meeting his gaze as I focus on the task at hand. Once I have the clothes in my hands, I turn around to face him. I didn't realize he had stood up and approached me, now standing right in front of me.
"I'm a mess," I say, looking down. I can't bear to meet his eyes—eyes filled with love for me and the pain I'm causing him.
"I don't mind," he says, his voice deep, taking another step closer. He places his hand under my chin, gently lifting my head so our eyes meet once more. Then he says, "I do mind you sleeping alone in the forest. I was worried."
"I'm sorry. I didn't plan for it to happen. It just... happened."
"Don't let it happen again, not on my account... If you wish, I can leave this tent, if that would make you more comfortable," he offers, moving his hand to my cheek. In that moment, the cold dissipates, replaced by a spreading warmth throughout my body.
"I don't want you to leave the tent," I whisper, almost breathless. I see a spark ignite in his eyes, and my heart quickens its pace.
"You don't?" he smiles.
"We need to talk... I want to be completely honest with you," I begin, my voice filled with apprehension. "You were honest with me last night, and it's only fair that I do the same. But what I have to tell you... it won't be easy to understand or accept." Placing my hand over his, which is still tenderly caressing my cheek, I intend to gently remove it and create some distance between us. However, he misinterprets my touch, taking it as a signal to proceed.
In an instant, he presses me against the wooden shelves with his body, his arm wrapping around my waist. His other hand moves up to the back of my head, pulling me towards him, seeking to reunite our lips. This time, there is no gentleness. He devours my lips, sending electrifying shivers down my spine and weakening my knees. I find myself frozen once more, my hands dropping to my sides, as I stand there, allowing things to happen to me, unable to regain control.