I’d say this feels like old times, but it doesn’t.
The woman sitting on my sofa has been to hell and back on a ticket bought and paid for by me.
I destroyed her heart five years ago.
I can’t even begin to imagine the full impact that my decision to leave had on her.
Yet, here she is.
She’s open to more. I sense it in her kiss and the way she looks at me.
I open the bottle of wine and pour the deep red liquid into the only two wine glasses I own.
I live with few things.
The bulk of the furniture in here came with the place.
I have half of a closet of clothes, a few pairs of shoes, and a dozen or so pictures of my daughter.
Two are hanging in frames in the hallway. There’s another on the wall in my bedroom. It’s of the two of us. Kristin is sitting in my lap, looking up at me.
I stand in front of that picture and pray to the heavens above on a daily basis. My plea is always the same. I want time with my daughter. I want a chance to watch her grow up. I want her to fall asleep in the second bedroom down the hall.
I didn’t bother placing any of the framed photos in the living room. I’m rarely in there. Most of my time at night is spent asleep or at the bar.
I fill daylight hours working out, doing administrative work at Tin Anchor or stuck in the armchair in my bedroom reading books.
/> It’s a quiet existence. I see it as a bridge to what I really want.
A month ago that bridge took me to a future where I could see my daughter whenever I want. That’s changed since I walked into Katie Rose Bridal.
I have no fucking idea if my life here is going to be uprooted and replanted in London, but I do know that I need to consider Katie in all of this.
It’s presumptuous, but I sense that she’s feeling something for me that mirrors what was in her heart before I broke up with her.
“Are you burning the shrimp scampi again?” Katie asks from where she’s sitting on my sofa.
I glance over at her. She’s peering over her shoulder at me. Her long hair is tumbling down her back.
She’s a vision; a picture of innocence and bravery.
The most beautiful woman alive is what I see when I look at her.
“I burned it once.” I laugh. “I would have thought you forgot about that by now.”
She smiles. “I haven’t forgotten anything, Gage.”
Neither have I.
I remember everything including the way she mewls when I suck on her clit and the claw of her fingernails down my back when I’m driving my dick into her.
I want that tonight.
I need it.
I hope to hell that she wants it too.
***