It would haunt me forever.
Dax
The guilt I’d expected never came as I lay next to her. I kept waiting for regret to seep in, too, but no part of me regretted what just happened. No part of me wished I could take it back. Lying here felt like the aftermath of a beautiful storm, where you might have been expecting destruction, but instead there was nothing but the sun peeking out again—a deep appreciation for what I’d experienced.
I did wish she wasn’t leaving, that I could hold her until the sun went down tonight and never let her go. But nope, not guilt. Maybe it would come later, and I would deal with it then.
“You look lost in thought,” she said, running her fingers through my hair. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I am.” I kissed her neck. “You?”
“I’m remarkably calm,” she said. “It seems you were what I needed all along.”
“I know the feeling.” I leaned in to kiss her, cherishing the feel of her naked body pressed against mine. “I’ll never forget this.”
She ran her finger along my chin. “You know what I realized?”
“What?”
“I never played for you. I promised I would before I left.” She slipped out from under the covers.
I admired her beautiful body as she walked to the corner of the room and took her cello out of the case. She pulled up a chair and positioned herself behind the instrument.
I sat up, leaning against the headboard. “Well, this is certainly not how I’d imagined it, but you won’t hear me complaining.”
She launched into “The Swan,” the song she knew was my favorite. As always, I became lost in the hypnotic trance of her musical talent. Her playing naked, just for me, was beautiful—another part of this day I’d never forget. It was quite literally our swan song.
The strange tension in my chest grew with every minute that passed as she continued to play. I knew this was it. This was the feeling I’d thought I’d never feel, that I hadn’t thought I was capable of. This was what I’d wanted to feel for Maren but couldn’t. It wasn’t something you could create or control. It was utter passion and intoxication. Utter wanting. And utter pain with the knowledge that I couldn’t have Wren, despite my feelings.
Making love to her had pushed me even closer to the edge, yet I was still not able to take the leap. The longing seemed unbearable now. Would it eventually fade? I didn’t know.
When she stopped playing, I got up from the bed, still naked myself, and knelt before her. I rested my cheek against her abdomen and kissed her skin. She threaded her fingers through my hair, and we just sat. I wondered if she could sense all of the feelings inside of me.
“I’ll never forget this day,” she said.
“Me neither, beautiful. Me neither.” I finally lifted my head and cupped her cheek.
She looked over at the clock. “We have to leave. I want you again. And again. But there’s no time left.”
I stood. “Maybe it’s better that we’ve run out of time. It’s probably the only way we’d stop.”
She nodded. She turned to put her cello back into the case and then picked up her clothes off the floor. I stopped her for a moment and pulled her to me, placing a firm kiss on her lips and cherishing the silkiness of her skin so I never forgot what it felt like. She sighed into my mouth, and after a minute, I let her go. I watched as she got dressed, and I reluctantly did the same.
The mood soon switched from emotional to downright morose. I wanted time to stand still, and I also wanted these minutes of sweet torture to pass so we could be put out of our misery.
We barely said a word as I packed her suitcases into my trunk. A postal service truck was parked across the street, which reminded me that today was business as usual for seemingly everyone else but us. I told myself the current quiet was better than if she were in tears or upset like earlier.
Traffic, as expected, was a bitch. I put on some classical music and held her hand the entire way to Logan Airport. The feeling of dread grew with each mile that passed. I kept second-guessing everything—as if there was a decision to make. There wasn’t. A relationship with Rafe’s sister would never be an option. Inevitably hurting her and him would never be an option. So I needed to stop the voice in my head that kept telling me I was making a huge mistake in letting her go, that there was still time to tell her how I felt, turn around, and take her home.
The voice retreated in defeat as the signs for the airport gates began to appear.