Stefan and Laura In Greece
By Judy Omega
Written in 1996
A Scene from the Cassadine Compound, approximately nine months before Nikolas' birth...
Stefan stared at his dinner plate, wishing that the earth below him would open up and swallow him. The scene unfolding before him was becoming all too familiar and he averted his eyes, hoping that it would end soon.
"Stavros... no... not here... please." Laura's voice was barely above a whisper.
"Are you afraid to show your husband some affection in front of my brother? C'mon Lasha, it's only Stefan. He's not going to care."
Stefan could tell by the way Stavros was slurring his words that he'd had too much wine at dinner... again. He looked up at Laura and saw tears pooling in her eyes.
"Stavros, please. We're trying to finish our dinner," he said.
Stavros laced his fingers in Laura's hair and pulled it hard enough to make her wince. "What's the matter, little brother? Jealous? Perhaps mother will find a woman for you someday..." He tugged at Laura's hair,bringing her mouth to his.
Laura could smell the wine on his breath, and she shut her eyes to avoid looking at him. She cried out when he tightened his grip on her. "Stavros! You're hurting me!"
She didn't see Stavros' hand move, but she could feel it approach her face as she steeled herself for the impact. The shock of pain was almost a relief. She instinctively placed her hand on her cheek, and it felt cool against the heat of the impending bruise.
She concentrated on the pain, trying to focus her thoughts away from what Stavros was doing to her... from what he would be doing to her when they returned to their room. She was barely aware of Stefan, who had placed himself between Stavros and her. She heard her husband order her to leave and wait for him upstairs. She stood and left the room, hearing Stefan's and Stavros' angry voices fade as she climbed the stairs and entered her room.
She shut the door and reached for the light switch, but then pulled her hand away. She walked to the windows and closed the shutters, completing the darkness, letting it envelop her as she walked carefully to her bed. She removed her dress and let it drop to the floor. She climbed into bed and pulled the blankets up to her chin. It was a warm night, but she felt very cold.
She waited. The tears would not come. She stared at the ceiling, her throat so tight that she could hardly breathe, but still she was unable to cry.
She looked over at the door, its outline faintly illuminated by the light in the hallway. She focused every sense on that door, waiting to hear her husband's heavy steps as he approached their room, watching for the shadows of his feet to obscure the sliver of light under the door, waiting to hear the high-pitched whine of the hinges as he opened the door, causing light to spray in from the hallway, illuminating his features for a brief moment. She shivered and turned away from the door, as her memory replayed the rest of the scene. She could feel the vibrations of his footsteps on the wooden floor as he approached the bed. She could hear the sounds of his linen shirt scraping lightly over his skin as he removed his clothing. She could smell his scent as he bent over her, an unpleasant mixture of alcohol and musk. Every muscle tensed, waiting for his touch...
At last, the tears came. Her body shook with relief as she sobbed into her pillow. Her tears felt like fire on her wounded cheek, but it still felt so good to cry.
Stefan stared at his older brother, sprawled at his feet. He knelt down and put two fingers on Stavros' neck, feeling a strong pulse. Mildly disappointed, he stood and walked to the call box, ringing the rooms of the Cassadines' two strongest servants.
"My brother has had too much to drink," he told them, "Take him to the guest room so he can sleep it off."
He watched them leave with their burden. He was grateful that his mother was away from the island tonight. He wondered what his punishment would be for decking her favorite son. Perhaps Stavros wouldn't remember...
He climbed the stairs and paused outside of Laura's room. He placed his hand on the door, lightly stroking the grain of the wood. He could hear her muffled sobs.
He remembered standing outside this room many times before. Stavros was always so rough with her, and Stefan was afraid that he would hurt her. So he waited and listened, poised to burst in at the first sign of trouble, but Laura never once cried out. She silently bore her punishment until her husband sated himself and fell asleep. Then he would hear her softly crying, and he would listen to her cry until she fell asleep.
He put his hand on the doorknob, gripping the cold brass with white knuckles. What was he doing? This was his brother's room. This was his brother's wife. But he just wanted to tell her that Stavros wasn't going to be with her tonight. Perhaps it would make her feel better.
He entered the room slowly, the light from the hallway briefly illuminating her form. She immediately stopped crying when he entered, and was very still, perhaps feigning sleep. He saw her dress pooled on the floor beside the bed, the white fabric reflecting the light from the doorway.
He shut the door and approached the bed. She was turned away from him, but he could sense that she knew that he was there. He sat down on the bed and put his hand on her shoulder. In the darkness his hand became one with her form, and he sat there, feeling the warmth of her body through the blankets. She tensed at his touch and a lock of her hair fell across his fingers. Unable to resist, he ran his fingers over her hair, gently stroking her head.
"St... Stavros?" She was barely whispering, yet he could hear the confusion in her voice. She was not used to her husband approaching her in that way.
Laura was relieved that Stavros' anger had abated. Perhaps he wouldn't be so rough this time. Wanting to get it over with, she rolled over to face him. She couldn't see his face, but she could feel a softness in his touch that was never there before. He was stroking her face now, careful not to touch her bruised cheek. She felt a warm droplet land on her face and she flinched in surprise. Was Stavros actually crying?
Stefan tried to speak, but the words wouldn't come. It was unfair to Laura, deceiving her like this, but he had wanted to touch her for so long, to comfort her. He felt his love for her welling up in him, spilling out of his eyes in the form of tears. He wiped them away, hoping that she wouldn't notice. He felt a shock of pleasure when she reached up to unbutton his shirt.
Laura ran her fingers over his chest and she knew. She knew that this was Stefan, and not Stavros in her bed. She pulled him to her and drank in the scent of him, a warm, clean masculine scent so unlike that of her husband. She wanted to tell him that she knew, but she was afraid that he would stop... and it felt so good to be loved like this again...
After, when she lay in his arms, he pretended to sleep. He waited for her to cry, like she did every night after Stavros fell asleep, but she didn't. Two horrible thoughts crossed his mind: "What if she loves him after all?" and "I've just raped my brother's wife." Self-loathing replaced the ecstasy he had felt moments before. He was grateful when she finally fell asleep and he could leave.
Once outside of the room, he vowed never to tell anyone, especially Laura, about this night.
She felt him gently pull away and get out of bed. She could hear him quietly dressing himself and the sound of his bare feet padding across the wooden floor as he left the room. She felt cold again.
An image of Luke appeared in her mind, and she suddenly felt ashamed. She made love with another man... a Cassadine... and enjoyed it. Even though Luke was dead, she felt like she had defiled his memory.
Through her tears, she vowed never to tell anyone about this night.
finis