I was about to answer but she didn't give me a chance.
“Anyway, I just think that if you love someone then you should want to make the effort to keep the relationship going, and we just don't have that, so maybe we don't love each other. That's probably the simplest explanation.”
“It sounds horrible though, I hate to think that you're going through that,” I said, and found myself reaching across the table to her hand. Our fingers linked together and I squeezed it tightly. My heart raced as our skin touched. I raised my eyes to look at her and found her looking back at me. My throat tightened and there was surely no doubt that there was something between us, but I dared not speak for fear of ruining the moment.
I wished that it could last forever but that was impossible, and it was left to Lucy to shatter the silence. As she spoke she pulled her hand away, and I was filled with a stark feeling of emptiness inside, as if I had lost something completely vital to my existence.
“Anyway, I'm sure you don't want to hear an old woman moaning about her love problems. Tell me something I don't know about you,” she asked. I thought about telling her that I loved her but I hadn't drunk enough wine for that, although I was sorely tempted and the words were ready to fly from my lips. Instead, I told her about my dreams of becoming a writer. Even though we had spent much time together I had never revealed that part of myself to her, and she squealed with delight when I told her. It felt good to talk about it again and we laughed as I recounted the letters of rejection I had received. She expressed sympathy and stroked my arm lightly, letting it linger there far longer than it should have. I didn't know whether I was more intoxicated by her or the wine but something was playing havoc with my senses and in that moment, when we were sitting opposite each other, I wanted her more than I had ever wanted anything else before.
When she asked if she could read my manuscript I initially refused, but she pressed and I quickly found myself relenting.
Chapter 9
“So this is my place,” I said as we stumbled in, a little tipsy from the wine we had drunk, although by that point it was beginning to wear off.
“I can't believe I've never been here before,” she said, and looked around with wide eyes, examining every room. I took a moment just looking at her. The moonlight came in as shafts through the window, and when she stepped into them it was like the heavens were shining an angelic beam on her. I walked up to her and led her up to my bedroom, which was where I kept my manuscripts.
“Excuse the mess,” I said as we went into my room. I made a quick effort to tidy things up but she told me not to worry, and perched herself on the edge of the bed. I couldn't actually believe that she was in my room and I had to pinch myself to make sure that I wasn't dreaming.
I went into the closet and pulled out my novel, then handed it to her. She began to turn over the pages and I cringed with embarrassment.
“This is good!” she said, and I was surprised. I settled down beside her and remained sitting there in silence until she had finished the first chapter.
“Well I don't know what those people were on about. This is really good, do you mind if I take this back with me when I go? I'd love to see how it ends.”
“Oh she just-” I began, and was silenced by Lucy's finger on my lips.
“Don't tell me, I want to see for myself,” she said, and I smiled sheepishly. She walked over to put the manuscript by the door, and I was afraid she was going to leave. But to my relief, she turned back and rejoined me on the bed.
The mattress groaned under our weight and when she turned to face me I became lost in her eyes and her scent. I wondered if she could tell that my heart was beating for her and only for her, and I had no idea what would happen next but it felt like anything could happen, and I was determined to let it.
She reached up and pushed back a few errant strands of hair. I leaned my face into her hands and closed my eyes, enjoying the comfort, enjoying my dreams coming true. When I opened my eyes her face was mere inches from mine and I gazed into her soulful eyes, totally in awe of her beauty.
“There was another reason why there was tension in my marriage,” she said. “Wendy was jealous of you.”
“Of me? But we never...”
“No, we didn't, but she knew that I...that you were my type, and she knew that you had a crush on me.”
“She did?” I said, my voice faltering, because if Wendy knew then evidently Lucy knew too, and I was just glad that the light was dim because I could feel the blood rushing to my cheeks. I looked away in shame.
“Yes, but it's okay...it's a good thing,” she said, and then tilted my head up so that our eyes met again. Before I knew it her lips were upon mine and she had stolen a kiss from me. I looked in shock as she pulled back, and then hungrily leaned forward again. I had enjoyed one taste and my hunger was fierce. I pressed my lips against hers firmly and our arms wrapped around each other. Our curves melted together just as they had done in my fantasies and my mind was already in a daze as I thought about everything that awaited us. I felt all around her body, my hands squeezing her hips and the breath rushing through my mouth as I felt the places that had always been denied to me.