She'd hurt him.
Horribly.
He'd dreamed of love, but all of his dreams must have carried a caveat. For him, the chance of the dream turning into a nightmare was greater than for anyone else.
Lois reached for the phone again. She paused.
Clark had practically demanded that Shane forgive Jane. He had never given up on Shane's love for Jane. He'd been a friend to Shane, even after Shane had called off the wedding.
He would forgive her.
Because he was Clark Kent.
And he loved her.
He did.
He'd demonstrated it in every word, every action, every touch.
He'd proved it in trusting her with the truth.
He'd risked everything.
Lois's hand slid from the phone.
She needed to talk with Clark, but it wasn't a conversation to be had over the phone. She wanted to be with him - to see his face, to linger in his smile, to feel his arms. To talk to him and hold him and show him that her love was real.
She wanted time … time to help him see again.
See that they - Clark Kent and Lois Lane - that together, they could be incredible.
"I'm coming, Clark," she muttered. "I'll be there on Saturday, and then ..."
She chuckled softly as his smiling face floated through her imagination.
"… and then, you'll never be alone again."
Part 10
It was a little before two-thirty when Lois climbed from the cab at the entrance to Union Park.
She'd already been to the hotel to drop off her luggage, wash away the grime of travel, fix her hair and make up, and change into the midnight blue dress she'd bought yesterday morning, right after calling the airline and booking her flights to Des Moines.
It had been a painstakingly slow forty hours since her decision to come to Clark, but now that she was here, the significance of the moment loomed large.
Seven days ago, in a car a few miles from here, the statement, 'I wasn't born here,' had changed Clark's life forever.
If she went to him now and spoke the words engraved across her heart, there could be no turning back. No doubts.
Lois searched for inner assurance.
And found it.
She wanted this.
She wanted Clark.
She wanted to share his life. His differences didn't matter at all. In fact, she'd begun to wonder how she could have considered a relationship with a man who couldn't fly.
Lifting her head high, she marched forward. Towards the man she loved. And their life together.
The ground was damp underfoot - her heels sank a little way when she stepped from the track and onto the grass - but the rain had stopped and the sun was shining from between the cotton-candy clouds that were scattered across the blue sky.
It was the perfect day for a wedding.
The perfect day for promises.
The lilting strains of music beckoned her forward. She rounded a grove of trees and saw several dozen chairs - most of them filled - facing away, towards the front where Shane was waiting with his four look-alike brothers.
Lois scanned the crowd, and her heart did a pirouette when she saw the dark head that had been so prominent in her thoughts and dreams since she'd left Des Moines forever one week ago.
He was sitting in the aisle seat of the third row. All the seats around him were taken, thwarting her plan to slip in beside him. Lois edged past a young family and sat in a vacant seat in the second last row.
She wrenched her gaze from the dark head to scrutinise Shane. Did he realise how much damage he'd done last weekend? Was he ready to commit the rest of his life to Jane? As Lois watched, he stepped across and said something to his brothers. Andrew patted Shane on the shoulder, and the groom glanced towards the back of the seats, from where his bride would come.
Lois's eyes dropped … back to the dark head and broad shoulders.
Regret stabbed at her again, laced with impatience, and she urged Jane to hurry.
"Ladies and Gentlemen. Family. Friends."
At the front, Shane was standing before the microphone.
"I know it isn't customary for the groom to make a speech before the bride arrives, but it also isn't usual for guests to come to a ceremony a week after the set wedding date."
Subdued laughter rippled across the gathering. Shane's head dropped for a moment. When he looked up again, his cheeks has blossomed red. "I want to apologise to all of you for the inconvenience I caused by cancelling the wedding last week." Shane glanced sideways to Andrew, who nodded encouragement. "Before she gets here, I want to tell you something about Jane."
Lois gripped her handbag as possible diversionary tactics scampered through her mind.
"Last Friday, I knew that I was marrying the woman with the biggest heart in the whole of the United States," Shane said. "This week, I discovered her heart is even bigger than I'd realised. Last Friday, I knew Jane had an amazing capacity to see the best in everyone … to overlook their mistakes. This week, I really, really needed that quality in her."
He stopped. Breathed. Rubbed his thumb across his cheek.
The guests waited in silence.
"I love Jane," he said in a voice stretched brittle. "I will always love her. And I intend to spend the rest of my life making up for what I did to her last week."
He pressed his hand against his mouth, looking down. Andrew stepped closer to him, and the five brothers stood in a line of solidarity.
The low purr of an engine whirred through the silence, followed by the sound of closing car doors. The music burst through the reflective mood with resounding celebration, and Belinda and another woman appeared between the trees.
They walked past Lois, slowly and sedately, and then Lois heard the soft murmur of excitement as the bride appeared on the arm of an older man, who, inexplicably, reminded her of Perry.
Next to him, Jane - quiet, fade-away Jane - looked radiant.
The crowd stood. Lois shrank in behind the tall man in front and sneaked a look forward. Clark was standing, his eyes trained on the bride, his mouth moulded to a hollow smile.
Lois clamped down on her sob. She longed to see Clark's real smile - warm with sunshine and mulled with the bounty of his heart.
The bride swept towards her groom. When she reached him, he touched her elbow, looking down on her as if he couldn't quite believe she had come. The older man hugged them both before sitting down.
And the wedding began.
||~||
Clark stared forward as his friends began their vows, committing themselves to lives of faithfulness, love, support, and unity.
She was here.
He hadn't actually seen her, but her presence was as real as if she were sitting beside him.
He'd heard her heartbeat.
"Do you take this woman …"
Why had she come?
She must have known he would be here.
Why hadn't she called to tell him she was coming?
" … to have and to hold …"
What was she wearing? She'd taken his breath away in jeans and a sweater. What colour had she chosen? Bold red? Deep blue? Lush green?
His first sight of her was going to be an explosive mix of untameable excitement and oppressive regret.
The reading was going to be like navigating a minefield. He would have to concentrate on the words. Keep his focus fixed on the trees. Pretend he didn't see. Didn't know. Didn't care so desperately.
"… for richer, for poorer…"
His always-simmering love for her bubbled up again, engulfing him - his mind, his heart, his soul, his being.
Did he dare believe that her presence meant there was hope? Would she speak to him? Would they exchange pleasantries and slip from each other's lives forever?
If that was what she wanted, he knew he would have to let her go.
But it was going to be the hardest thing he had ever done.
To forget … wasn't going to be possible.
To lament … would be his daily burden.
To love without return … would be his destiny.
"… as long as you both shall live?"
"I do."
||~||
Shane carefully lifted the veil from his bride and bent low to kiss her.
It was done. Simple. Meaningful. Beautiful, too. Two people had promised forever.
They looked so happy. So complete.
So absolutely right together.
Lois slipped a handkerchief from her handbag and dabbed at the corner of her eye.
The bridal party moved to the spare seats at the front, and the minister announced that the reading was to be given by Clark Kent.
Lois's breath wedged between two beats of her heart. Would he see her? How would he react to her presence? With eager surprise? Cold suspicion? Or blank indifference?
He stood, a Bible in his hand, and walked with steadfast purpose to the front.
At the microphone, he turned. His eyes skimmed the crowd, missing her. His smile was pleasant, engaging … empty.
Anguish surged through Lois, sharp with the knowledge that she had done this to him. She had sapped the life from his face, the beauty from his smile.
He took a breath and began. "The reading is from the first book of Corinthians," he said, steady, composed, vacant. "The thirteenth chapter, beginning with verse one."
Lois stared at him, accumulating more memories. He stood, tall and straight, wearing a black suit, white shirt, and oddly geometric purple and gold tie. Her imagination had not done him justice.
He was gorgeous.
He was everything she had ever wanted. Not just his physical attributes - although they had the capacity to reduce her muscles to mush - but all the other characteristics that made Clark Kent … his quiet strength, his refusal to stray from what he thought was right, his courage to believe in his dream, his generosity of spirit.
She loved him.
She needed him.
On the outside, he was flawless, but on the inside, something was missing.
Her.
He needed her. He did. He knew he did.
But would he be willing to trust again?
"Love is patient, love is kind."
Clark had shown her such patience. And he'd always been kind.
"It does not dishonour others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs."
The memory of her harsh words whipped through Lois's mind. She had accused him of lying and then accused his parents, whom he obviously loved, of deliberately misleading him.
"Love does not delight in evil, but rejoices in the truth."
She had demanded the truth, and his love had been too strong to seek escape through deception. It had cost him everything.
Or so he thought.
If only he'd look at her … allow her the chance to smile, to connect with him, to begin to build the bridge of restoration.
"It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres."
That is how Clark Kent would love. How Lois was determined to love him. "Look at me," she murmured under her breath. "Please, Clark, look at me."
Slowly, his head lifted, and his eyes crashed into hers, setting off a thousand mini-explosions that cascaded through every part of her body. He swallowed. He drew in a long staccato breath. "Love never fails."
His image blurred as the well of her emotions seeped into her eyes.
He stared, caught in the unseen bond that held both of them.
Lois pushed a faint smile through her tears.
He didn't respond.
She strengthened her smile, hoping to convey her love across the crowd and directly into his wounded heart.
Clark's head dropped. He closed the Bible and returned to his seat, his eyes down.
One of Shane's brothers took the microphone and sang a deep and stirring rendition of 'Amazing Grace' while the bridal couple and their witnesses signed the register.
As the familiar strains echoed through the trees, Lois stared at the back of Clark's head, reliving every millisecond of their fleeting encounter.
He'd seen her. His heart - once so flagrantly accessible - had remained hidden behind his mask of stolidity.
His shoulders were fixed and inflexible.
His neck … her fingers itched to glide up from the strip of skin above his collar and into the rich lustre of his hair.
But first … first she had to re-earn the right to touch him.
After the last note had faded, the minister turned to the guests and announced with gusto, "I present to you, Mr and Mrs Shane and Jane McVane."
The small crowd cheered boisterously. Shane leaned down and kissed his bride. Jane beamed up at her new husband, her face lit with an elated smile.
The newly married couple began walking down the grassy aisle. At the third row, they stopped and exuberantly hugged Clark. He returned their embrace, treading right down the middle between enthusiasm and woodenness, giving Lois no further clue as to his emotional state.
Shane and Jane moved through the well wishes of their friends.
"Lois! You came!" Jane stretched her arms towards Lois. As they hugged, Jane whispered, "Thank you. Thank you for coming."
"Thank you for inviting me," Lois said. "I appreciate it more than you can know."
Jane smiled. "I think I know," she said.
After the bride and groom had passed, Lois stole another glance towards Clark. He was still turned away from her, talking to the man who had walked down the aisle with Jane.
Lois joined the small throng of people following the bride and groom. They moved through the trees and came to an open sunny area where clusters of tables and chairs were dotted around a long trestle loaded with food.
Lois took a position slightly adrift of the crowd and awaited her moment.
Clark was one of the last to emerge, and when he did, he stood alone, his hands in his pants pockets and his head frozen forward as he watched the photographer arrange various shots of the bridal couple.
Her time had come.
Lois inched towards him.
She stopped half a step from him.
He tensed. She could feel his awareness of her presence emanating from a body held in rigid suspense.
With the outer tip of her smallest finger, she touched the small ribbon of skin between his pants pocket and the cuff of his shirt.
He flinched. Not in body; but somewhere deep inside where he harboured his hopes and dreams.
Lois waited, matching his forward stare, her whole being concentrated on their tiny sliver of connection.
His elbow flexed, lifting his hand from his pocket and bringing it to hang by his side.
Lois curled her pinkie finger around his.
His skin was warm. His hand soft.
His head turned to her, his eyes molten with confusion.
"I'm sorry," she mouthed.
He made as if to speak, but no words came. He stared at her, caught in the crevice of a thousand questions.
Lois gathered all her unruly emotions and mustered them into a cautious smile. He didn't respond, not overtly at least, but it seemed as if the inscrutable outer layer of his protective veneer softened.
"Lovely wedding," she muttered.
"Uhm." His reply sounded as if it had been ground through two boulders.
Sensing he needed some space, Lois returned her attention to where the photographer had positioned Jane in the midst of the groom and his brothers.
Clark must be wondering why she had come. Why she had moved over to him. Did he welcome her presence? Her approach?
He hadn't run away. His finger was hooked around hers - a loose and flimsy link, but significant.
She hoped.
Or was he just too polite to pull away?
Lois leaned closer and whispered, "Come with me? Please, Clark?"
His head turned towards her, his expression slightly ajar. It wasn't enough. She needed something more solid than speculative guesswork. She figured he probably did, too.
So she closed her finger more tightly around his and stepped away. He followed, easily, but always half a step behind.
She led them into the grove of trees, out of sight of the wedding guests. Ahead, she saw the gazebo, glistening in the afternoon sun. She quickened her strides, eager now. When they reached it, she climbed the steps, her heart hammering as they neared the moment of their destiny.
At the top, she turned and faced Clark square on, careful not to dislodge the tentative connection of their fingers. "I'm not here for a story," she said. "I said I wouldn't write anything, and I won't."
His expression didn't change. "You must have a lot of questions."
"I do. But only one is important."
"Which …" He coughed, glancing down to his feet. "Which one?"
"Will you forgive me?"
His head jolted up, and surprise peeled away the mask, revealing the Clark of her memories. "Lois, there's nothing to forgive," he said. "I … I saw you, my brain went into meltdown, and …" He gently squeezed her finger. "… and I just kept on getting everything wrong."
"You mean like bringing me here for the most romantic picnic of my life?"
"I mean like asking you out within minutes, declaring my feelings within hours, and dumping the biggest secret imaginable on you within a day." His other hand lifted in frustration. "I gave you no choice but to run away."
"I'm not running now."
"You came back to ask for forgiveness?" His eyebrow lifted. "Just that?"
Lois felt her mouth twitch. "No. Not just that."
"What else?"
She stared into his eyes and saw the lingering layers of uncertainty, as if he were preparing to defend his life … his world … his decisions. She placed her other hand on the lapel of his jacket.
"No raindrops today," he muttered.
She brushed them away anyway, relishing the texture of his jacket … and the underlying firmness of his chest.
But … her hand stilled. "I wanted to tell you that I believe you," she said. "About everything."
"You believe my parents found me in a spaceship?"
She nodded.
"Why?" he asked. "Why would you believe something so implausible?"
"Because you told me." She waited for that to settle through his consciousness and then smiled softly. "And the coffee helped, too."
He groaned. "The coffee."
"Thank you for bringing it to me."
"I wasn't sure … After I'd done it, I thought maybe you'd be mad that I came to your apartment. But you'd called me and -"
"You knew it was me?"
"Yeah."
"How?"
"I heard you breathe. And the little gasp. It was you. I knew it was you."
"The coffee was wonderful," she said, sliding her thumb from his jacket and onto the crisp cotton of his shirt. "It was exactly what I needed. I'm hoping you'll make it for me again."
"I didn't make it," he said blankly.
"Oh, that's right," she said, nodding sagely. "It was from 'just a place you know'."
His smile peeked out like the first rays of spring sun after the bleak cold of winter. "You kept on asking me to take you there. Next time you ask, I will."
"Where is this place you know?"
"Italy."
"Italy?" she echoed.
"Yes."
"You can get from Des Moines to Italy to Metropolis in ten minutes?"
"I had to wait for the coffee; they were just opening."
"After the coffee … were you hoping I would call?"
He shrugged. Ventured into her face. "Yes, I was."
"I'm sorry. I didn't know what to say."
"If you'd called, I wouldn't have known what to say either."
"You weren't sure? You couldn't see us anymore?"
"Lois, I will always be able to see us," he said with quiet conviction. "But telling you again … begging … hoping … wanting …"
It was true. He had been telling her from the beginning. Now, it was her turn. "I can see," Lois said, sliding her hand from his chest to perch on his shoulder. "I can see it, too, now. So very clearly."
"See what?"
"See what you could see from the beginning. That you and I - that we - could be incredible."
"Lois, there's more … there are things you don't know."
"I know everything that's important."
"No. No … there's so much -"
"I know you're an honest man. A man of integrity and courage. A man with enormous capacity to love. A man who - as you said before - will hold no record of wrong. I believe that, in time, you will forgive me. And when you do, I'll be waiting."
"Waiting?" he gulped.
"Waiting to spend the rest of my life with you."
His eyes slid shut for a moment, and when they opened, they were damp and shiny and extravagant with joy.
His smile unfolded to spectacular brilliance. "H…how do you know I'll forgive?"
"Because you're Clark Kent. Because you risked everything for the woman you love. Because you won't give up."
His smile billowed like a sail dancing in the sunshine. "You think you're the woman I love?"
"Aren't I?"
He chuckled. "I guess I didn't succeed in keeping that secret either."
"No," she said. "That was pretty obvious, right from the start."
"It was true," he said. His hand rose, and his fingers glided through her hair. "From the first moment I saw you, it was true."
"That you love me?"
"That I will always love you. That all I want is to be with you. That you need to think this through before you -"
"I've thought it through."
"Lois, it's not just the flying. I can -"
She pressed her forefinger over his mouth to silence him. "How about you surprise me?" she suggested. "One revelation at a time?" She returned her hand to his neck. "And we'll celebrate each one together?"
His eyebrow arched. "Celebrate?"
"You don't think being able to flit to Italy on a coffee whim is something to be celebrated?" she asked.
He appeared to be reconsidering. "Perhaps … if I had someone to come with me …"
"You do. You have. You will. Always."
"Aww, Lois. I …" His words stopped, but his eyes continued with silent vows that burrowed deep into her heart.
She smiled. His arms surrounded her, pulling her closer.
And Lois knew she had found her home.
||~||
Clark's mountain of fears had been reduced to just one.
He fervently hoped he wasn't dreaming.
She'd come to Des Moines.
She'd sought him out.
She'd apologised. Not that she had done anything wrong.
She'd said she believed him.
And despite knowing his secret, she was nestled in his arms.
She felt so good, so perfect. Clark would have been content to hold her forever.
But, after about a minute, she eased back. She smiled up at him, which mitigated the loss of contact. He slid his hand down her arm to take her hand in his.
"We should probably get back to the wedding," she said. "There are going to be questions if they realise we've gone missing."
Clark lowered his glasses and checked over his shoulder. "Everyone seems to be concentrating on the bride and groom," he said.
"How do you know?"
"I can see through the trees."
"Literally? Through them?"
"I can see through everything except lead." He held his breath, awaiting her response.
She grinned. "When you come to Metropolis, you are going to work with me."
She said it as if their future was settled. Exhilaratingly settled. "You said you work alone," he reminded her. "Always."
"I also said I don't date. Ever."
His laughter felt sweet as he asked, "Has that changed, too?"
"Only a little. I date one particular man. As far as everyone else is concerned, I don't date."
Her words and her smile and her hand on his chest emboldened him. "Want to go out on a date with me?"
"Only one date?"
He nodded. "Only one. A date that lasts a lifetime."
Her beautiful brown eyes sparkled with fun. "Is that a proposal, Mr Kent?"
If she wanted a proposal, she could have it. Right now. "Of course not," he said with a wide grin that diluted his denial. "It would be much too soon for a proposal."
"But that's what you want, isn't it? Marriage? Forever? Risking everything for one person?"
"That's what I've always wanted. But until last week, I didn't know who that one person was."
"Do you know now?"
He nodded. "Yep."
She toyed with his tie. "You are a very romantic man, Mr Kent."
"I believe in love. I believe in being with someone forever."
"I didn't believe in love."
"And now?"
"I believe in us."
Clark cradled her chin in the curve of his fingers, tilting her head until their eyes met. "I love you, Lois Lane," he said. "I don't think it's possible for me not to love you."
"I believe you." Her eyelids fluttered over a film of moisture. She smiled, flooding him with joy. "I love you, Clark Kent."
He kissed her, sealing promises made … secrets shared ... love affirmed.
Forever.
The End.
