Tabitha's fingers curled tightly in Derek's shirt. "So betrayal is unforgivable no matter the reason," she said softly, the words cutting through the silence.
The question was not aimed at others but at herself.
"Yes, betrayal is betrayal. Think about how you felt when you thought I had touched Daphne. How would you feel if you were that paralyzed husband, lying helplessly in bed? Regardless of the reason, the betrayer can never be excused," Derek replied.
Tabitha's mind raced back to that night with Wilmot.
The drugs had clouded her memory, but the marks on her body the next day told the story of their reckless encounter.
She, too, was a betrayer.
Derek, however, had no such thoughts. In his heart, he was Wilmot, and Tabitha had never truly betrayed him.
He was speaking of the woman, unaware that Tabitha was taking his words to heart.
Derek sensed Tabitha's shifting emotions and assumed she was upset with his words.
His hand glided up her back, gently patting it. "Tabitha, don't be angry. I won't leave. I'll endure it," he said.
Tabitha remained silent, lying still against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.
She waited for the couple to finish so they could leave.
Finally, she heard the man's low growl and the woman's cries, signaling their climax.
She and Derek should end too.
Tabitha prepared to rise from Derek's body, peering through the leaves to check the situation.
But the man pushed the woman into a new position, her clothes bunched at her armpits, leaving her exposed.
Unlike most villagers with tanned skin, this woman had a fair complexion, her curves untouched by childbirth.
The man, dark-skinned from years of fieldwork, had a hint of abdominal muscles.
In the dimming evening light, their contrasting bodies moved in harmony—a clash of black and white, passion and freedom.
Youth, with its boundless courage, could not be tamed by fears of failure or shame.
Tabitha looked away. A new round began. Maybe it was the darkness. In the open field, the two felt unmatched freedom, as if the whole world was theirs.
Youth was all-in. Even knowing failure lay ahead, they'd charge forward, no regrets.
Tabitha had once been young too, chasing dreams without a second thought.
Even if the path was wrong, the joy of the moment had been enough.
The woman's words cut through the air, "You're amazing, stronger than him. He's useless in bed, so boring."
"Come with me," the man pleaded.
"Where? We've been here for generations. Where else can we go?"
"The world is vast. We can earn our way in the city. We'll build a life together, openly and freely, no more secrets."
The woman's eyes sparkled with longing—a home with her beloved, children of their own, a life of unbroken togetherness.
Their passion now mingled with dreams of the future.
In the heat of youth, one dared to charge ahead, undeterred by obstacles.
Regret often came with age, when caution and second-guessing weighed down every step, bound by invisible chains.
Derek caught Tabitha's flickering gaze.
"Tabitha, if they can break free from morality and convention to do what they believe is right, why can't we? I know you still love me," he whispered.
Tabitha denied it instantly, "Who said I love you? I don't..."
Derek cupped the back of her head and kissed her fiercely.
Tabitha struggled to push him away, her resistance half-hearted, fearing the noise would alert the couple.
Her attempts to escape were more like reluctant submission.
Derek's fingers found the hairpin in her hair and gently pulled it free.
Her soft tresses cascaded down, and she looked at him with wide, accusatory eyes.
Unseen by Derek, whose "blindness" masked his true intent, he flipped them over, pinning her beneath him.
Her long hair fanned out over the golden rice fields.
Her once-fiery face now held hints of fear and uncertainty. She tried to push him off, but Derek effortlessly pinned her wrists above her head.
Like a crab that was lost its claws, it no longer had the means to fight back.
He breathed into her ear. "I've waited long enough."
Tabitha could have used her self-defense skills, but the noise would have given them away. All her previous patience would have been for naught.
If her actions led to someone's humiliation or death, she'd never forgive herself.
Too many had suffered because of her—Spike's foot still ached from years ago, Joanna lay buried, and Tucker had fallen before her eyes.
Even the scars on Derek's back were her doing.
Each memory was a knot in Tabitha's heart. She would not allow another life to be lost because of her.
"Derek, you jerk, let me go," she hissed through gritted teeth.