SECRET BETWEEN US
The mansion had a rhythm pulse that moved with the ticking of antique clocks and
the distant sound of footsteps echoing across polished floors.
By day, it was a parlance of order.
By night, it was a cathedral of secret.
And lately, Sarah had one buried deep inside her secret with a name and a heartbeat.
Jack Robert.
It begin with stolen glances across breakfast tables and brief whispered thank-yous
in shadowed hallways. Their connection had grown quietly, likely along stone
persistent and natural, curling around everything it touched.
It had been three weeks since that nice in the garden the night Jack found her crying
and offered not pity, but presence.
Since then, something had shifted.
And one night, it happened again.
Sarah had gone to the library late to return a book.
Jack was already there, lounging on the leather couch in a loose white shirt, his brow.
The air between them crackled.
Word failed.
She moved to leave but he reached for her hand.
That was all i took.
The kiss came like lightening sudden, bright, dangerous.
One second they are staring at each other, the next their mouth collided in a fever of
unspoken hunger. There was no soft beginning , no gentle ask.
They had waited too long.
The passion had grown louder than their fear.
That night, they didn't sleep. They mad love like it was a secret prayer soft and burning,
full of laughter and urgency and whispered promises.
On the floor.
In his room.
Then hers.
Always careful.
Always quiet.
The days that followed became a game of risk and thrill.
Jack would touch her hand under the dinning table his thumb brushing along her
palm like a secret massage.
Sometimes he'd pause behind her in the hallway, bending close enough to let his breath
skim her neck.
Once he pulled into the unused wine cellar and kissed her against the shelves, bottles clinking
like bells warning them they were too loud, too close to being caught.
Let's run away, Jack had whispered one night, his arms wrapped around her in the small attic room.
She laughed into his chest. And go where?
Anywhere you'll sing.
Anywhere I can hear you and know you're mine.
You already have me, she whispered.
Jack looked at her like she was the only thing that had ever made sense.
But outside their bubble of hidden joy, the world remained unchanged.
Bill Robert still ruled the house with cold efficiency.
Charlotte, though kinder, noticed everything and said nothing.
Clara was too wrapped in her own glittered world to see the sparks flying across the halls.
One night, during a large family event, Sarah was serving drinks in the ballroom.
Jack was across the room, surrounded by a few board members and their overly dressed wives.
He looked board,
Restless.
Their eyes met.
It was brief half a second, but it was enough.
Later, in the darkened hallway near the west wing he found her.
She was alone, restocking champagne.
Without a word, he grabbed her hand and pulled her into a side room rarely used study.
I can't wait anymore, he murmured, pushing the door closed with his foot.
She didn't argue.
The passion was fire and silk fierce but gentle.
Their kisses were messy, desperate, and full of heat.
Her hands roamed beneath his jacket, his mouth traced the line of her throat like he was
memorizing it. He lifted her onto the antique desk, kissing her like she was his last breath.
Her legs wrapped around him.
Every sigh, every shiver, every moan was stifled, tucked between gasps and trembling promises.
I love you, he whispered into her skin.
Sarah breath caught, say it again.
I love you, Sarah.
'I think I always have.
Tears shipped from the corners of her eyes as they more together, completely, hopelessly lost
in each other.
They didn't hear the click of a door in the hallway.
They didn't care,
Their romance became the thread that tied her to this house not the job,
not the salary, not the dream she once chased in the quiet of the night.
It was Jack.
He wrote her notes and left them tucked under her pillow.
He learned the song she hummed when she cleaned and played it on piano for her in the
empty music room on rainy evening.
He carved their initials into the old oak tree behind the greenhouse.
Every stolen moment mattered more than any concert stage ever could.
But Sarah knew it couldn't last forever, they were fire and sulk in a house built of ice.
One evening, Charlote asked Sarah to bring her tea in the solarium.
As Sarah set down the tray, the older woman looked up from her book with eyes that knew
too much. Do you love him? She asked gently.
She froze.
Ma'am.
Charlotte closed her book .
My son, Sarah didn't answer.
Charlotte smiled faintly.
Don't worry', I'm not angry.
Just.....careful.
Sarah's voice shook.
Yes I love him.
Charlotte stood and walked to the window, then be careful too.
This house has a way of breaking beautiful things.
That night, Sarah found Jack waiting in her room.
She ran into his arms, the weight of Charlotte words heavy in her chest.
Promise me something, she said.
Anything.
If they find out, if they try to tear us apart don't let them.
Don't walk away.
Jack cupped her face,never.
They fell into bed again, slowly this time, as if trying to memorize every part of each other.
Their love had grown deeper, more intense like a flame that no longer danced, but burned low
and steady.
I want a life with you, he whispered.
Not behind closed doors.
Then let's make one, she said.
They didn't know it yet, but the storm was already building.
But for now, they had the night.
Each other, and a love too strong to hide forever.