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She glances away from me, letting her gaze drift out my kitchen window and into the backyard. “I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything. Or do anything. Just know I’m here. When you’re ready.Ifyou’re ready,” I whisper, my gaze drifting to her lips. Without thinking, I reach out, brushing my thumb across her bottom lip.
She sucks in a sharp breath and again her eyes drift closed. “That’s just it … I feel like”—She swallows hard—“I feel like moving on should be harder than this.Takelonger.” She shakes her head, then opens her eyes. “But all I can think about is how much I want you to kiss me again when you look at me like that. Isn’t that terrible?”
I grin, trying desperately not to full-on beam from that statement. So, instead, I tease, “Wow, you know how to make a guy feel special.”
She pins me with a glare. “You know what I meant.”
I chuckle softly. “I do.”
She sighs.
“But for what it’s worth, our situation is a little unusual,” I offer, continuing to rub my thumb across her bottom lip.
“How?” she asks, her voice turning breathy.
I finally pull my hand away from her face and instead, slide it into hers. “We’ve known each other a long time, Lily. We were so close. And your marriage—” I glance at her, hoping I’m not stepping into things. “It sounds as though your marriage ended a while ago. You just hadn’t made it official.”
“I hadn’t thought of that.” Again, she licks her bottom lip, and it drives me crazy before she continues, “No, that’s a lie. It’s all I can think about.” She snickers under her breath, then reaches out to scratch her forehead. “God, why is this so hard?”
“Expectations?” I suggest.
“What do you mean?” Her eyebrows tug in and I reach out to press my index finger at the place where they scrunch. Instantly, she relaxes them.
“Societal expectations, mostly.” I shrug. “People assume you have to behave a certain way when a marriage breaks up and so you shoulder that expectation.”
She narrows her gaze. “I suppose.”
“Lily, you’ve never wanted to hurt people. Never wanted to have someone tell you that you did a terrible job. Or hell, bemadat you. So, you’re trying to weigh the consequences. I get it,” I say, squeezing her hand.
“It’s like you’re in my head.” She huffs a humorless laugh.
A slow grin spreads across my face. “Maybe I am.” When she rolls her eyes again, I say, “Or maybe … I justknowyou.”
She takes another deep breath and her eyes glisten with emotion.
With my free hand, I place my index finger under her chin and tip it up. “I see you, Lily. I seeyou. And I’ll follow your lead. I don’t care what others think of us. I couldn’t give two fucks—but I knowyou do.So, I don’t care how long it takes. If you need to keep me at a distance for a decade before you feel comfortable, I’ll—”
Before I can process her sudden movement, Lily’s lips are on mine—a soft, tentative touch, like the whisper of a dream. Her fingers tighten on the nape of my neck, drawing me deeper into her embrace and the scent that is all Lily—a combination of cherry and vanilla—floods my senses.
As our lips move together, they’re in a delicate exploration. It's not just the merging of mouths, but a blending of past memories, unspoken desires, and buried feelings. Every nuance of her kiss tells a story, one I've been longing to read for what feels like an eternity.
The world narrows down to just the two of us as she deepens the kiss. The slight taste of her morning coffee, the warmth of her breath, the soft hum of satisfaction she lets out—all of it sends electricity zinging through me.
Her hands travel from my neck, over my shoulders, and down my chest, as if she’s trying to memorize every inch of me.
I respond by sliding one hand into the silken strands of her hair and tilting her head to gain better access. The other hand rests on the small of her back, pulling her closer, wanting to bridge any remaining gap between us.
The feel of her pressed up against me is intoxicating, grounding, and terrifying all at once. Because while this kiss feels like coming home, it also holds the weight of every unsaid word, every missed opportunity, every year spent apart when we should have been together.
When we finally pull apart, it's not a break—but a pause. Our foreheads rest together, our heavy breaths mingling in the space between us. I can feel the rapid pulse of her heart, and I'm sure she can feel mine, racing just as fast.
There's a moment of silence, a wordless exchange, as if we're both trying to find our bearings in this new reality we've just created.
The reality we’re intentionallycreating.
Lily is the first to speak, her voice a breathless whisper, "That was ..."
