by Shayne Ford
He smiles.
“Interesting...” he mutters.
“Yes, it is. There are so many things to see. I love the stories and the history of the place. The minarets, bridges, old streets, fortresses, and towers. The atmosphere is nostalgic. Romantic...” I say, my voice trailing off.
He sets my phone down and continues to eat.
“You should come to visit me soon...” I say, glancing at him as he tips his gaze down, focusing on the food.
“I will,” he says, a mysterious smile tilting his lips.
I toss him a questioning look.
“What is it?”
He sets his fork down and looks at me.
“I think that it was the right move for you,” he says.
“You think so?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
For a few moments, we search each other’s eyes.
A warm smile colors his gaze as he makes one of my favorite gestures of his. He takes my hand and brings it to his lips.
My heart does a little dance as I feel his soft kiss on the back of my knuckles.
“I’m happy to have you close to me,” he says, his words and smile making my heart skip beats.
16
THEA
An hour later, we enter his hotel suite.
He sheds his jacket and tears his tie away from his neck before he removes his cufflinks and cuffs up his sleeves.
I watch him quietly as he pours wine into our glasses and invites me to the terrace.
“Are you cold?” he asks as the sea breeze sweeps my shoulders.
“No. I’m good.”
I take a seat at the table. He follows my example shortly.
A candlelight shivers in the small glass centerpiece. We both watch it for a moment before the night view of the sea draws our eyes to the water.
Silence surrounds us, although it’s not hard to imagine the effervescent atmosphere in the casinos, clubs, and on the yachts swaying out there, on the sea.
“This is a beautiful place,” I say, filling my nostrils with the marine air. “Serene,” I murmur, my eyes trained on a boat gliding away in the distance.
“Yeah... It is,” he says, sunk in his thoughts.
“Do you remember when I asked you if you imagined living somewhere else? And you said that your whole life was in Colorado?”
He smiles, without looking at me.
“Mmm-hmm.”
“What about now? Do you feel the same?”
He swings his gaze at me, the corners of his mouth lifted with a soft smile.
“I’m not so sure,” he says.
“What would your perfect place look like?” I ask as he moves his eyes back to the water.
“Perfect for what?” he asks before the rim of his glass meets his lips.
“I don’t know... Life?”
He sets the glass on the table, his gaze trailing down as well.
“I never imagined the perfect life,” he says before he lifts his gaze, a soft smile brushing his eyes. “I always thought I had it.”
He studies me for a moment before he continues, his gaze moving away from me again.
“I didn’t even realize that there was such a thing as imagining your perfect life. And then I learned that people do it because their lives are far from what they want. I never thought that I was missing anything. That’s why I didn’t imagine a perfect life. That changed somehow when I read my mother’s journal...” he says and pauses for a moment before he speaks again.
“ Like many people, she spent a lot of time imagining her perfect life. She had to... She had no choice. What she wanted wasn’t much. By most people’s standards it was a humble living, but to her, it was the best that she could dream off. That’s when I started to think about it. And to be honest, I don’t know... I like my life back home. I like my home. But I’d love to see more life in it,” he says, emotion lining his words. “What about you?”
“Uh... “
My eyes are still on his lips, my mind still wrapped in his words.
“I, um... Well, it kinda changed for me. When I had my brother and my mom, I wanted a bigger house and a pet. A dog perhaps. It wasn’t much. Oh, and I wanted it to be close to the beach. That goes without saying. After the accident, I could no longer think about it, and once I got married, it never crossed my mind again.”
“So why are you asking me this now?” he mutters, his gaze shifting to me.
“Uh, I’m not sure...”
I tip my gaze down for a moment.
“I guess because I got the chance to travel, and see how other people live. That’s why.”
He studies me for a few seconds, his features relaxed, his smile soft, sleeping on his lips.
“How do you see your future, Thea?”
A nervous tremor sweeps my fingers.
“I try not to think about it,” I say, my eyes connected with his.
A questioning look grows on his face.
“I’m not superstitious or anything,” I say, feeling the need to explain myself. “It’s just that I hate to think about it, or worse, to dream about it, and then when something bad happens and shatters everything.”
His eyes stay on me.
“Have you talked to someone after the accident?” he asks, his question catching me completely off guard.
My eyebrows lift in surprise.
“You mean, like a grief counselor or something?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“No.”
“Have you talked to anyone at all?”
“Um... The police?”
“I’m not talking about the police report.”
“No.”
“Why?”
I feel as if a door slams in my chest. My hands begin to shake a little.
“It wasn’t... I didn’t think it was necessary.”
I shift in my seat, tense.
He observes me in silence, his gaze flowing freely through me.
In spite of my effort to keep myself away from that slice of life, my mind rushes to that moment in time, the flashbacks searing my brain, making me gasp for air as I suddenly feel suffocated.
It takes only seconds for panic to surge through me.
My eyes fly to the table as I pick up the glass with a shaky hand and almost spill my drink on my lap.
I place it down without sipping.
“I need to go to the bathroom,” I say, abruptly rising to my feet.
He doesn’t say a word as I push the chair back, leave the terrace and dash across the suite.
I enter the bathroom and turn the water on, my heart pounding out of control.
Oh, no... I don’t need this shit right now.
The room starts spinning as the air seems not enough. My knees begin to shake, my hands all sweaty as I try to grasp the edge of the sink.
I feel as if I’m about to crash and crumble, fall at any moment. Die.
Desperately, I glance in the mirror.
A pale face looks back at me, my eyes dark and dull with panic, a vein plumped on my forehead.
The door opens just as I bring my hand to the back of my dress and slide the zipper down, hoping to help myself breathe properly.
He’s next to me in a split second.
“Hey... Are you okay?”
I spin to him, my lips parted, my neck tight and tense, my trembling hands looking for something to grasp, any kind of support.
He catches me in his arms just as reality slips away from me and I spiral down inside the worst panic attack I’ve ever had.
“Breathe, Thea. Calm down and breathe...” he murmurs, his hand massaging the back of my neck, his lips touching my hair.
His free hand starts peeling my dress off my shoulders as I loop my arms around him and cling to him with all I’ve got.
It takes moments before the feel of his hand against my skin pulls my mind out of the insane race of panic.
He keeps stroking me, holding me against his chest until the pace of my breaths steadies and I start to de-
tense in his arms.
“Oh, my... This was horrible,” I murmur. “I think I need to change into something different and lie down.”
“Would you like to take a shower first?”
“Yes,” I mutter.
My hand grabs his wrist.
“But please don’t leave me,” I say, still shaken.
“I’m not. I just need to take my clothes off so that I can help you.”
“Okay,” I say, feeling embarrassed and stressed at the same time. “This has never happened to me,” I say, grappling with unexplained angst while still feeling sick.
His eyes fill with questions.
“Not that bad, I mean...” I add as I start to feel dizzy again.
I lean against the sink, staring at him as he takes his pants off, his shirt and socks as well.
He starts peeling the lingerie off me. His touch is soft like velvet.
“I’m sorry. I envisioned this happening in a different way,” I murmur, trying to make a joke.
He smiles as he peels my bra and panties off.
“I ruined this evening,” I murmur, voicing my frustration.
“No, you didn’t.”
He helps me step into the shower booth and turns the water on. My gaze glues to his back as he pivots away.
“I’m not leaving,” he says as if he reads my mind.
He pulls off his boxer shorts and enters the shower booth. I finally take a long breath and sigh with relief.
“How do you feel?” he asks, observing my eyes and my expression.
“It’s better,” I say as the stream of water rolls on me.
Beads of water spray on my face. I lift my chin and let the water splash on my neck.
“This is going to make a mess on my face.”
“Don’t worry,” he says as he steps behind me, shields my back with his chest, drapes his arms around me and holds me while the water runs on me freely.
I’ve never felt so bad and good at the same time.
My body melts into his arms, slowly relaxing, my heart and lungs finding their rhythm.
My mind begins to quiet down as my focus comes back to me and normal sensations flow through my senses.
“This feels good,” I say warm drops of water falling on my face and lips, my neck and chest, soothing my body.
I lean more against him.
“I don’t know what’s happening to me...” I quietly say, my hands locked on his arms.
A few moments pass by.
“I think I got panicked because I feel so happy,” I murmur mainly to myself as my hands rest on top of his, holding him tight.
His arms still locked around my waist.
“And that gives me big stress,” I clarify.
“Why?”
“I felt happy before, and it all got taken away from me.”
His lips trail in my hair.
“That’s not what’s going to happen to us.”
His hands slide slowly to my shoulders before they slip down to my waist and hips, and start following the water’s pattern, gliding over my skin, gently touching me, and caressing me.
“I love this,” I say as I finally lean entirely on him.
My strength comes back to me as well, my body beginning to warm up from his touch.
He starts kissing my neck and my shoulders, his fingers tracing my spine before his palms sweep my back.
“Don’t stop,” I murmur, the back of my head propped against his shoulder. “It feels so good,” I mutter in a trance as I close my eyes, and let the magical sensation roll through me.
Tiny goosebumps form on my skin–– my shoulders and my arms, as he slides the curtain of hair to the side, and runs his lips on me. Kisses–– some soft, some passionate make my body vibrate with need for him.
He gently bites the side of my neck, before he splays his fingers on my chest and starts to knead my mounds, following the same rhythm.
My hands sit on top of his, my fingers squeezing them from time to time. His tension surges and so does mine.
I tear my hands away from his and bring them back to his hips. He keeps kissing my shoulder while stroking my chest and I begin to rub my backside against him.
My eyes peel open as I spin around to face him.
Our gazes lock as his hands come to my neck, and cuff it before he lowers his mouth to mine. Time stops as we connect our lips and start to kiss.
My fingers slide up onto his arms, kneading his muscles as we keep kissing, a storm growing in us.
My hands go to his face, my eyes closing as his kiss deepens, his hunger quickly surfacing, mine revving me up as well.
The memory of the past hour is long gone as all I feel right now is the urgent need to merge with him, to become one, to dive into him and feel him diving into me.
My flesh starts burning with desire, my insides melting at the thought, my blood running so much faster as I swirl my tongue with his and taste the silky cushions of his lips.
My palms slide down from his face, my arms looping around his neck, locking him in my embrace, my body responding fast to his, my mouth not getting enough of his kiss.
Everything I have repressed these past few weeks comes back to life, roaring. Every bit of hunger and longing, every deeply ingrained need for him.
As if he senses the fire brewing in me, he lifts me and holds me with one arm as he slowly lets me slide down onto him, my legs locking around his waist.
“I don’t know if I can stay that long away from you, Ed...” I murmur, with a shaky voice as he props my back against the glass and starts moving into me.
“You won’t,” he says against my lips, his words followed by another kiss.
His arms drape around me, one shielding my back, the other holding my backside while he keeps thrusting into me.
Bliss and joy spread through me as I feel inside everything I needed all the time I was away from him.
“I love you, Ed...” I say, carried away.
“I love you too, baby,” he says, a smile lining his voice. “I’ve loved you since we locked eyes for the first time,” he adds, taking me completely by surprise.
THEA
The room is barely lit–– a few candles on the terrace, a couple on the nightstand, a discreet glow coming from the reading lamp tucked in the corner.
A scent of flowers, berries, and sandalwood infuses the air.
The mattress is soft, the sheets smooth–– lavender scented.
Slowly, he moves on top of me, entering me without a rush. My arms curl around him, my fingers dancing on the shifting muscles of his back.
My legs spread wider as he slides into me, his touch flowing through me, making every part of me vibrate, celebrating him–– the beautiful man showing me a side of him I never hoped I’d see. He makes love to me, our hearts linked together as he makes me his.
The morning breathes light at the shoulder of the horizon when he finally tucks me in his arms and holds my back against his chest as we both watch the sea and the boats sailing across.
As we soak in the view in silence, the intense happiness I feel brings tears to my eyes.
This moment is so much more than I have ever imagined.
Mom and Aiden would’ve been so happy for me.
“They would’ve liked you...” I murmur, a small tear falling on the pillow. “My brother would’ve been fascinated with you,” I say, managing to keep my voice steady and not give my emotions away.
He doesn’t say a word.
I continue.
“You couldn’t be more different than Aiden, and yet you remind me of him so much. I saw it in you the first time we met, and it was something he had it in him as well. A wild streak, and playfulness, the hunger to do things his own way. That attracted me to you as much as it made me admire him, but I didn’t realize it until later on.”
I stay silent for a few moments.
“I wish that day never happened,” I finally say, my voice dripping with sorrow. “My life would’ve been so much
different if they were still alive. Up to this day, I still don’t understand why it had to happen that way. Why a split second had the power to destroy lives. Why two people who meant the world to me had to leave. Why I stayed... I have no idea what screwed up algorithm of the universe pulled the life out of them and let me live. I hope I’ll never have to make that choice again...” I mutter as I run a finger across my cheek, wiping away a tear.
“What choice?”
His fingers splay across my stomach, his palm resting on my skin as I absently run mine over his knuckles, my eyes trained on the horizon.
“The kind that no one should make... “ I say with a quiet voice, my mind going back in time.
A few more moments tick by before I speak again.
“I drove that day...” I mutter, tears falling on my pillow.
His hand gets warm against my stomach as if a fire grows beneath his touch. I feel the warmth inside my belly as well.
“It was beach day, and Aiden let me drive... Usually, he was the designated driver, but that day, he handed me the keys. Mom wanted to come as well. It was a beautiful morning without a cloud in sight,” I murmur, my mind focusing on a particular image. “I see it so clearly in front of my eyes... Even now, after all this time. My mom had a blue and white dress, her hair tied into a bun, and her glamorous sunglasses on. She sat next to me while Aiden took the seat on the back bench right behind her. He had his board shorts on, silver gray with ombre blue toward the bottom, and a white T-shirt. His skin was tanned, his eyes cleared like the sky. Always gleaming with a smile. We had fun...” I say, grinning at the memory. “We weren’t like other families I knew. There were issues, tensions, and problems in other homes, but not ours. My mother did a great job raising us. We weren’t bad kids either. We were both independent and passionate about all sorts of things, and she never tried to discipline us or to curtail our natural inclinations. Anyway... It was a surfing contest, so it was a special day in a way. My mom wanted to take pictures of Aiden. We both wanted to be there to show our support. Everything went fine for the first fifteen minutes or so on the road when a car came from nowhere–– a truck, and started to trail us really closely,” I say, tensing beneath his touch.
