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“Goodnight Victor,” I barely croak out as he walks down my pathway.
It takes me a few moments, my fingers lightly touching my swollen lips.
That was a heck of a kiss. A good night indeed.
THREE
SALLY
Saturdays are typicallymy rest days from running. I sleep in, run errands, maybe do a little bit of cleaning. But last night’s kiss keeps replaying in my mind and I need to clear my head if I’m going to be able to focus at work come Monday. I decide to go for a long run.
It took all my willpower to not invite Victor in last night.
If we had slept together, what would’ve happened?
I don’t know if I’m going to stay in Kastle Harbor forever. I don’t even know how serious Victor is about dating. From what Marie has let slipped in the past, her brother is notorious for being married to his work. Normally, that would be great.
This is why I need to run. Too many what ifs and possible scenarios.
I need to feel my feet rhythmically hit the pavement, to feel the fresh air fill my lungs, to focus on my breathing.
I’ve always been career focused. That was one thing I loved about being with my ex. We met in college, pursuing our dreams and supporting each other’s careers as we dated and then later married. With him everything had seemed to move easily from one stage in life to the next. Graduate, get engaged, establish our careers, and have a dreamy wedding. The only blip was the whole have kids bit that seemed to be the next step we could never take.
That was a depressing doctor’s visit.
I hadn’t really considered kids before my thirties, so it was okay with me to consider alternate ways to make a family. Or so I thought.
During the divorce he disclosed that not having biological children weighed on him, causing resentment that I never noticed.
Everything seemed fine between us.
I push the past aside to focus on my breathing. I try to let the automatic movements of running ease my mind.
After I’m back home I go to try one of the coffees Victor gave me. As the coffee maker starts, I shower and change. Most of my closet is business focused, but when I’m at home I live in my pajamas. An old college tee and sweatpants, a well-loved and comfortable combination.
As I pour a cup of coffee, the nutty aroma fills my nose.
It’s delicious. Maybe my favorite one so far from the roastery. For a moment I consider texting Victor is too much, but I go ahead and do it. I already told him I’m rusty at this.
I keep the text short and simple. I set my phone aside and decide to finally tackle some more boxes that need unpacked. Maybe I’ll finally unpack this week.
* * *
Victor
I wake up from a restless night’s sleep. After I left Sally’s, I needed a cold shower when I got home. I just kept replaying our kiss in my mind and I couldn’t fall asleep. Then when I did, I dreamed of what could’ve happened after that kiss. And all the different positions that might have been possible.
I want to see her again. I want to feel her lips on mine again, to feel her body in my arms.
Is it too soon to ask her out again? Why am I even second guessing this?
I grab my phone off the table to text Sally, only to see a notification already there. I can feel my pulse quicken.
Sally: Love the roast. Thanks again!
Victor: Which one did you make?
Sally: The nutty one, there’s no labels. The other bag smells more like chocolate.
