Page 32 of Never Too Late

“Because you’re sitting here.”

I bit my tongue and didn’t respond. All I could do was hope she would eventually give up.

All afternoon I wanted to go after Sophie. It burned in me to hunt her down. Unfortunately, I wasn’t all too clear what I would do if I went after her. Would I demand she finally left or would I finish that kiss?

Christ, that kiss.

The moment I felt her skin touch the back of my neck and she gave a slight push, I stopped thinking and just let go of my control. I bowed my head for her. I met her halfway.

When we were together, I loved the fact that she was so short I had to literally bow my head to get her mouth. It gave me the sense of satisfaction that she was able to burrow her whole body into me, that I could pick her up not batting an eye or when she used to demand for me to wrap myself around her, no matter where we were or what we were doing, because she was cold. The fact that whenever she did something, she came to me because she knew without a doubt I could and would give it to her, it fed my soul.

But when I felt that first touch of her tongue after seventeen years, something I didn’t dare to dream of, I felt a current going through my system. Right from my mouth, zipping in my chest and gut, all the way to my dick.

Jesus.

For seventeen years I was depriving both of us of the electricity that used to fuel us.

I was starving myself of the fuel only she gave me.

And the need that burst forth the moment she opened her mouth was off the charts.

I looked at Zara coloring under the freshly cut tree and I thought back to the time I spent with Cindy.

On some level, I did love her. Even when we were in the honeymoon stage of our marriage, I was painfully aware that it wasn’t the kind of love I had for Sophie. And that it never would be. I did my best not to make it obvious and buried the disappointment I would never have something like I did with Sophie again. Obviously, I failed.

It was a bitter thing to swallow, the knowledge that it wasn’t just Cindy who was responsible for the collapse of our life together.

I thought back to the woman I had before Cindy and even after. Not one came even close to give me what Sophie did that afternoon just with a touch and a kiss.

It was good she got spooked when she heard Zara having fun. If she didn’t and if she stayed where she was, I was sure I would find somewhere to hide us from view and strip her out of her coat and whatever clothes she had under it and I would be buried balls deep within two minutes.

Fuck.

If Sophie didn’t leave, there was no telling what would happen.

I would probably give in and listen to my dick’s demands. And all hell would break loose.

No, I needed Sophie to leave Hopeful. No matter how much I wanted her, the taste of her that still lingered on my tongue. No matter how much the loss of her touch hurt like a phantom limb, I couldn’t let the need wreak havoc on our lives.

And sure, it was whacky, but I called dibs on this town.

It was my home.

It was my daughter’s too.

And I wasn’t strong enough to have her this close and not do anything about it.

The same reasons why I broke us up in the first place still stood. Sophie was too big for this town, she had too much to offer. And she was meant for bigger and greater things. Something I could never give her.

She may have thought she wanted to live in Hopeful, was ready to live a quieter life, but I followed her over the years. Kept tabs on her career. What she did was no less than a miracle. What she made of herself and in the end filled me with pride. It cost me everything, to sever us that brutally, but she did what she was meant to do. She saved lives.

I knew that behind the decision of staying in Hopeful, of opening up a practice here was nothing more than her giving in to the grief she felt. She lost a woman that was her whole world and she needed to feel her close. Soon, that feeling would be gone and she would wake up and see that it wasn’t for her. She settled and in the end, she would want to leave.

If I gave in and became part of that equation, not to mention Zara, she never would. And I would be sentenced to watch a woman I loved more than my own life, waste away right before my eyes. Again.

Fuck, no.

I couldn’t let that happen.