I opened my mouth. My tongue wouldn’t form words. I had so much to say. I took a bite of spaghetti. Time passed. When she stopped speaking, her eyes were wet. She wasn’t crying, but her eyes were full. Full of eighteen years of what someone had taken from her. I smiled and stood. I looked away. I ran my fingers through my hair. As I carried my plate to the sink she raised her hand to her face. Wiping eighteen years of love from her eyes, she spoke, “I love you Marc.
Scott HildrethTags: chapter-love-that-just-is
I like looking at your body,” she said.
“Thank you. I like looking at you, period,” I responded. She removed her shirt. She asked for help with her bra. We embraced. Our skins touched. I felt her heart beat against my chest. I felt my heart beating. Our heartbeats became one. One heartbeat. We became one. Time passed. I looked at my watch. 10:10. I stood. She remained on the bed, defining beauty.
“It’s getting close to eleven, baby. You should probably get up,” I said, looking for my shirt. I ran my hands through my hair.
“Stand right there,” she said. “Don’t move.” I stood. She reached to the side of the bed, and got her phone from her purse. She held it at arm’s length. “Don’t move,” she said.
“I heard you,” I responded. I stood. She took three photos. “I wish I could paint a picture of you,” I said.
“Do you paint?” she asked.
“No,” I responded, “But I wish I could. I would paint a picture of you right now, lying there without your shirt. I could stand here, Britney, and admire you for all of what is forever. You make me want to cry. But. That part of me is broken.
Tags: chapter-love-that-just-is
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