inch to kiss him and feel the taste of the one I loved so much, who I’d missed to death.
My voice became hoarse. “The rankings made for widows over sixty?”
“I’m not complaining.” He flashed a sweet smile, which made my stomach reverberate. I knew those eyes. Damn it, I knew them too well. And they’d grown murky and dark as they did every time he was feeling desirous.
Nervously, I moved my hands. “I have no doubts of that. You’d be capable of going to bed with a mummy.”
He laughed even harder. His forehead was now leaning on mine and his fingers slid on top of my abdomen, reaching my hip, caressing it slowly.
I held my breath, though my heart had already taken off.
“Your sharp tongue . . .” he said.
“It’s not sharp, it’s poisonous.”
I was paralyzed. He was breathing on my mouth. I wanted to kiss him. I wished he would kiss me and put an end to the agony, which had lasted four years.
“Poisonous tongue. Mmm . . . I love a challenge. Let me taste, Zoe,” he mumbled, brushing my lips. “Let’s see if it’s as poisonous as you say.”
He slowly came closer to my face, granting me the time to refuse him. And I thought about it. For a fraction of a second, my brain had devised a plan of escape, but it didn’t know it had to contend with my heart.
And my heart won out.
I closed my eyes and awaited the contact with those lips I’d so yearned for, and when I finally recognized their taste, I felt reborn. I’d been dead and hadn’t even known it.
Every cell of my body reawakened from a four-year hibernation as soon as our tongues interlaced. I vigorously grabbed on to him, encircling his neck, and pulled him toward me.
How could I have lived without his kisses?
I felt his hands wandering around my body, caressing my legs, and he was already close to the elastic band on my shorts when his cell phone ring shattered the magic of the moment.
He moved away from me, panting, and stretched to grab his phone on the table.
“Hi. Yes, and you? Good.” He got up and walked away from me. “I’m about to go into the hotel . . . no, friends. Yes, you’ll meet them . . .”
I watched him attentively. He walked back and forth without ever looking toward me. Every so often he ran his hand through his hair out of frustration.
“Of course, darling. Until tomorrow. Yes, me too.”
Reality came crashing down on me like an enormous Ashley-shaped mass.
I’d forgotten she existed. He’d made me forget about everything that wasn’t us.
Stupid!
Andrew put his phone in his pocket and turned to look at me. His eyes were tormented. He wanted to say something, but he stood still.
I tried to compose myself and ignore the raging beat of my heart. I slowly got up from the couch and went over to him.
I had déjà vu. I felt I was re-experiencing that morning: our last morning together.
He scrutinized me in silence without moving a muscle, and when the distance between us was only a few inches, he took a step back and looked down at the floor.
“Sorry, Zoe, I shouldn’t have . . .” He sighed, putting his hands in his pocket. “I allowed myself to get swept away by everything. It was a mistake.”
Those words were like a bucket of cold water on my flicker of hope.
“What exactly was a mistake?” I asked mockingly. “Spending the day with Olivia, or having almost gotten into my pants again?”
“Zoe, I beg you. It’s difficult for me!”
“It’s difficult for you? Do you think it’s a stroll for me?” I was trying not to scream.
“I didn’t say that.”
I walked over to the door and opened it. “It would be better if you left now.”
“Zoe,” he pled.
“Go, Andrew. Now.”
“No!” In two strides he was in front of me, and he closed the door behind me. “If you want me to go away now, you have to promise me something.”
“I don’t owe you a damn thing!”
“If I’m not mistaken, Zoe,” he said slowly, “that girl in there is my daughter, and you
My voice became hoarse. “The rankings made for widows over sixty?”
“I’m not complaining.” He flashed a sweet smile, which made my stomach reverberate. I knew those eyes. Damn it, I knew them too well. And they’d grown murky and dark as they did every time he was feeling desirous.
Nervously, I moved my hands. “I have no doubts of that. You’d be capable of going to bed with a mummy.”
He laughed even harder. His forehead was now leaning on mine and his fingers slid on top of my abdomen, reaching my hip, caressing it slowly.
I held my breath, though my heart had already taken off.
“Your sharp tongue . . .” he said.
“It’s not sharp, it’s poisonous.”
I was paralyzed. He was breathing on my mouth. I wanted to kiss him. I wished he would kiss me and put an end to the agony, which had lasted four years.
“Poisonous tongue. Mmm . . . I love a challenge. Let me taste, Zoe,” he mumbled, brushing my lips. “Let’s see if it’s as poisonous as you say.”
He slowly came closer to my face, granting me the time to refuse him. And I thought about it. For a fraction of a second, my brain had devised a plan of escape, but it didn’t know it had to contend with my heart.
And my heart won out.
I closed my eyes and awaited the contact with those lips I’d so yearned for, and when I finally recognized their taste, I felt reborn. I’d been dead and hadn’t even known it.
Every cell of my body reawakened from a four-year hibernation as soon as our tongues interlaced. I vigorously grabbed on to him, encircling his neck, and pulled him toward me.
How could I have lived without his kisses?
I felt his hands wandering around my body, caressing my legs, and he was already close to the elastic band on my shorts when his cell phone ring shattered the magic of the moment.
He moved away from me, panting, and stretched to grab his phone on the table.
“Hi. Yes, and you? Good.” He got up and walked away from me. “I’m about to go into the hotel . . . no, friends. Yes, you’ll meet them . . .”
I watched him attentively. He walked back and forth without ever looking toward me. Every so often he ran his hand through his hair out of frustration.
“Of course, darling. Until tomorrow. Yes, me too.”
Reality came crashing down on me like an enormous Ashley-shaped mass.
I’d forgotten she existed. He’d made me forget about everything that wasn’t us.
Stupid!
Andrew put his phone in his pocket and turned to look at me. His eyes were tormented. He wanted to say something, but he stood still.
I tried to compose myself and ignore the raging beat of my heart. I slowly got up from the couch and went over to him.
I had déjà vu. I felt I was re-experiencing that morning: our last morning together.
He scrutinized me in silence without moving a muscle, and when the distance between us was only a few inches, he took a step back and looked down at the floor.
“Sorry, Zoe, I shouldn’t have . . .” He sighed, putting his hands in his pocket. “I allowed myself to get swept away by everything. It was a mistake.”
Those words were like a bucket of cold water on my flicker of hope.
“What exactly was a mistake?” I asked mockingly. “Spending the day with Olivia, or having almost gotten into my pants again?”
“Zoe, I beg you. It’s difficult for me!”
“It’s difficult for you? Do you think it’s a stroll for me?” I was trying not to scream.
“I didn’t say that.”
I walked over to the door and opened it. “It would be better if you left now.”
“Zoe,” he pled.
“Go, Andrew. Now.”
“No!” In two strides he was in front of me, and he closed the door behind me. “If you want me to go away now, you have to promise me something.”
“I don’t owe you a damn thing!”
“If I’m not mistaken, Zoe,” he said slowly, “that girl in there is my daughter, and you
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