So this was how real love felt, she thought happily, her body humming with joy as she lay back and closed her eyes. This was what she’d waited all this time for. He was what she’d waited all this time for.
And it was just as wonderful as she’d imagined.
She turned her head sideways and in the darkness watched him sleeping peacefully alongside her – watched the way his long eyelashes looked strangely feminine against such a masculine face. God, he was gorgeous, she thought, reaching out and gently stroking his cheek.
And, after tonight, he was hers at last.
She still couldn’t believe that it had finally happened, that after all this time he had finally admitted that he was in love with her too, that she was the one – had always been the one – for him. OK, so he hadn’t said those exact words out loud, but he’d said them in other ways, hadn’t he?
She sighed as she recalled the feel of him, the taste of him, the softness of his skin . . . She shook her head, amazed at the immense effect he had on her. But what would happen to them now, she wondered, her initial euphoria about the wonderful evening they’d just spent together slowly being replaced by a creeping trepidation and a growing sense of guilt. She bit her lip.
There would be problems to overcome, certainly, and yes, people might get hurt, but this was meant to be, wasn’t it? They were meant to be.
She hadn’t really given it much thought earlier on. She’d been aware of the fact that they shouldn’t be doing it, of course, it was difficult not to be, but the few drinks she’d had beforehand had thrown any restraint she might have had out the window.
And how could she not be with him, this amazing guy she’d adored almost on sight, who was the first person she thought of in the mornings and the last at night? Who made her feel like she was the most beautiful woman in the world; who made her think she could achieve anything? Who had kissed her so passionately and when making love had instinctively known his way around her body? All of which convinced her more than ever that the two of them were soul mates.
And that was all that mattered at the end of the day, wasn’t it?
After all, if they were really in love, what else could they do? They couldn’t help how they felt about one another, could they? And it had all felt so right – so it seemed inconceivable that they wouldn’t be together properly after this. OK, so there were lots of things to sort out, but whatever happened, they’d face it together. And eventually, everything would work out fine.
Just then, the sleeping figure beside her stirred and opened his eyes.
“Hello there,” she smiled leaning forward, and kissing him on the lips. “You nodded off for a good while there.” Although she had dozed a little herself immediately afterwards, there had certainly been no question of her falling asleep – not after such an amazing night and certainly not here. There was way too much to think about. But of course men were different, she thought affectionately.
But instead of returning her kiss, he quickly sat up and stared wildly around him, as if trying to remember exactly where he was.
“What’s going on? What are you . . .?” Running a hand through his hair, he turned back to look at her properly and, taking in her still-dishevelled dress as well as his own, evidently began to recall what had happened. “Oh, God.”
This was inevitable, she told herself calmly. It was only natural he’d be a bit bewildered by the whole thing. It was all right for her – she’d already spent the last while lying awake thinking about it all, while he’d slept things off. So, once he’d woken up properly, and they’d had a chance to talk about what had happened between them, and where things would go from here . . .
Then, catching sight of his expression, her heart sank. This wasn’t just disorientation, she thought, gathering her clothing protectively around her – he was already having second thoughts. Oh no, please don’t, she said silently. Not after the wonderful time we’ve just spent together. Please don’t ruin it.
“What is it?” she said, longing to touch him but sensing that she shouldn’t.
“What is it?” he repeated, his voice shaking. “What do you think it is? We didn’t . . . I didn’t use anything. Jesus, how could we have been so stupid?”
She gulped. She was well aware of that too, and doubly aware of how stupid she’d been for allowing it to happen. But she’d been drunk – not only on alcohol – but on her love for him and, at the time, everything else just seemed unimportant. But it would be OK; she knew her cycle well and she’d just had her period the week before so everything should be fine.
“I can’t believe it,” he was saying. “Of all the stupid . . .”
He seemed different now, jumpy, irritable. She didn’t like it.
“Look, it’ll be OK,” she said, trying to convince herself as much as him. She didn’t know if it would be OK, but she didn’t want their special night together ruined by worrying about it.
He turned to face her.
“Look,” he began, his tone now considerably calmer and sounding much gentler, much more like the real him. “I’m sure you know as well as I do that all of this was a mistake – a huge mistake.”
She didn’t know how she found the strength to nod, never mind speak. “A mistake?”
“Look, you know I care for you a lot, but this should never have happened. We’d both had a few drinks and . . . well, I really should have known better.” Then he stood up and ran a hand through his dark hair. “God, you have to know that I don’t make a habit of this kind of thing, I’ve never . . . well, we both did something very stupid and if anything were to happen or if anyone were to find out –”
“It’s OK,” she told him gently. “Nobody will find out. I won’t say a word.”
A look of relief crossed his face, and then he reached over and kissed her chastely on the cheek.
Instantly her heart plummeted in her chest. Why was he acting like this – so cold and distant and so utterly different from last night?
“Thank you,” he said, as he turned away and began putting on his shoes. “You don’t know how much I appreciate that. And please don’t think badly of me – as I said, I’ve never done anything like this before, and the last thing I want is to hurt anyone.” He sighed.
“It’s OK.” She tried not to let her disappointment and utter humiliation show. How could he change so suddenly from the wonderful gentle guy she knew to this . . . this aloof and almost detached one? What had gone wrong? Surely it couldn’t have been just the drink? In order for them to be in this situation in the first place, it had to have been more than that. Or was it that he just didn’t want to admit it? Was he afraid that, because of their circumstances, it would all be just too difficult?
“Look, I’m sorry if I sounded a bit . . . weird there,” he said then, as if reading her thoughts. “Last night was great – it’s just . . . you know,” he shrugged, “obviously, it shouldn’t have happened – and especially not like this. But please don’t think badly of me. You’re great, and the last thing I want to do is hurt you.”
“You haven’t,” she said, trying now to harden her heart, trying to pretend this wasn’t really happening. “You’re right – it should never have happened and, to be honest, I’m as much to blame as you are.” She shook her head. “And I feel as guilty as you do too.” She did feel guilty, but right then the overpowering emotion she felt was regret. Regret that their wonderful night together was ending like this.
“God, if you were to get pregnant or something –”
“I won’t,” she assured him once more, hoping she sounded convincing. “I promise you, everything will be all right.”