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Fingers walk down my arm, leaving a blaze of goose bumps in its wake. I don’t bother trying to mask my response to him because my body is a complete traitor. Gently coaxing me to let go of pillow number one, I oblige, as I’m finding it hard to breathe in my cushioned cage. Pillow number two is a harder battle because I know once it’s removed, I’ll have no other choice but to face my infidelity.
Saxon doesn’t give up and finally, I give in, but I keep my eyes squeezed shut. I can’t face him. Not yet.
“Lucy, please look at me.”
“No, I can’t,” I reply, red-faced.
He sighs, a sound of frustration. “So you’re going to keep your eyes closed every time I walk into a room?”
He’s right. I’m being absurd.
With a slow, measured speed, I open my eyes. They land on Saxon as he stands by the bed. His arms are crossed, but he doesn’t look mad.
“Hey.”
Sitting up, I brush the matted hair from my brow. “Hey.”
This is so incredibly uncomfortable and I hate it. We never used to have any uncomfortable silences, but that was before I threw myself into his arms like the adulterating whore that I am.
My face obviously betrays my thoughts. “Lucy, stop it,” Saxon says, sitting beside me.
I shift away, afraid of getting too close. I can’t look at him. I lower my eyes, scared of what happens when I gather my wits and face him.
“Lucy, about last night…” His pause makes me groan.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Well, too bad, because I do.”
His stubbornness is what I need and I angrily raise my eyes, only wishing I didn’t as I zone in on his bowed upper lip—lips that I kissed, and liked kissing very much.
“Ugh!” I slap my hands over my face. I really am not doing myself any favors.
He chuckles. “Seeing as you can’t look at me, I’ll do the talking. We kissed, Lucy, that’s it. We didn’t break any laws.”
“Are you serious?” I cry, unshielding my face. “I broke about five hundred laws. The most important law was to remain faithful to my future husband!”
His grins, a telltale sign that he’s pulling my leg. “Now that you’re actually looking at me, can we talk?”
I nod because he’s right. We need to talk about this as I like looking at him. Again, not doing myself any favors.
“I’m not going to tell anyone about what happened, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
Pulling at a loose thread on the bedspread, I shake my head. “That’s the least of my concerns. It shouldn’t have happened.”
“I know, but it did.”
Silence.
“I did mean it when I said we can pretend that tomorrow doesn’t exist.”
If only it were that simple. “I can’t pretend. I know what I did. How can I live with myself? I cheated on my fiancé who has amnesia with his identical twin brother. If that’s not an episode for Jerry Springer then I don’t know what it is.”
He smirks. I’m glad he’s finding my dilemma amusing. “Look, you’re under a lot of stress, Samuel is being a complete asshole to you, and not to mention, you hit your head. One can’t blame you for doing something out of character. We all make mistakes. You were vulnerable.”
But that’s the problem. As I sit here, listening to Saxon make excuses for my epic sluttiness, I don’t see what we did as a mistake. Yes, we shouldn’t have kissed, I acknowledge that, but the act within itself, the kiss, it wasn’t a mistake. It certainly didn’t feel like one. It felt perfect.
This scenario, however, is not. “Friends kiss, it’s no big deal. Anyway, I was drunk…” He continues talking but I don’t listen to a single word he says because my head begins reeling. He was drunk? Since when? I didn’t think he was intoxicated. He only had three beers at dinner.
