“I came back for my dad, to be close to them. He’s not well, Christine, and we don’t know how much longer…” I can barely contain myself now.
“I know, Ryan. I know,” she says, stroking me.
“Ian convinced me to come home, and a few weeks ago I was brave enough to confront Nick.”
“How did it go?”
“I didn’t forgive him, if that’s what you mean. But I tried to look past it… I don’t think Nick did it on purpose, it’s just that Nick is…Nick. He went to see her to try and set things straight and then…well, alcohol took care of the rest. My brother went to bed with…my fiancée. With the woman I was supposed to marry. It was a mistake, neither of them wanted it to happen; but it did. And now I can’t stand the idea of someone laying their eyes on something that belongs to me.” I turn to look at her. “She spoke to him, not to me. She told him that she didn’t love me anymore, hadn’t loved me for a while. That we were just two kids when we got together and that she’d grown up, while I’d stayed the same. She didn’t want to take that step, to commit herself to me. But she said yes. Do you see what I mean?”
Christine sits in front of me and takes my hands.
“She married someone else,” I say, resigned. “It was only a few months later. She chose someone else. They have a baby, Christine, a family. She has a family with someone else. She got everything she ever wanted, but it wasn’t with me. She didn’t want…me. Maybe she realised that I’m nothing special.”
“She didn’t realise anything,” she says, kindly. “She has no idea what she’s missing.”
“She kissed me, touched me, told me that she loved me. She said yes. When she really wanted to leave me. It was all a lie,” I say, lifting myself up to sit against the pillows. “All a lie. The last memory I have of us is a lie. All the caresses, the kisses…the intimacy. All bullshit. And now, any type of intimacy reminds me of…”
“Look at me, Ryan. I’m not a liar,” she says, bring her hands to my face. “I’m real. What we have is real.”
“I’m a failure, Christine. And one day you’ll wake up and realise it, too.”
“That’s not true. You’re not a failure. They hurt you, shrunk you; but now you’re here, with your family. You have your team, and you have…me. Let yourself go. Let me show you that my caresses,” she slides her hands down my face, “are real. My smiles. My kisses.” She presses her lips against mine. “Let yourself go to me and you’ll see that everything will be okay. Let yourself believe that this is real, that these emotions are real, and that I really want you.”
She slides on top of me, and I immediately wrap my hands around her waist.
“I’m real. What I feel exists. And this –” she kisses me again, lightly, “– this is real.”
I run my thumb along her lips.
“Make love to me, and I promise that you’ll feel everything.”
I take her face in my hands.
“And it’ll all be true?”
She smiles at me. “Everything.”
I lean in to her mouth and try to repress my desire to bite them off. I brush lightly against them, taking her bottom lip between my own and licking it delicately.
“That’s it,” she says, enjoying my kisses and pulling me in closer.
Her soft mouth makes love to mine. It tastes me, filled with desire, but without needing to jump all over me. She slides her hands slowly over my chest, before starting to unbutton my shirt. Her fingers move decisively, patiently, and when the fabric slips off my shoulders, I can feel a growing excitement, a desire to be inside her.
Christine looks at me sweetly, smiling with her eyes and her lips, showing me that she wants to take things a little slower this time. To make the most of every moment, of every breath.
And I want to, too. I want to experience every heartbeat, make them my own, hoping to heal the open wound which still scars my heart.
