Chapter Sixty-Two

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A/N: Please note that this short piece of our story briefly references sex between two adult, consenting, women. I've placed this part of Lily's story in its own chapter so that if this kind of material makes you uneasy you can skip this chapter entirely and move on to the next chapter.

As we begin to wrap our journey together, I felt like these passages were important to Lily's character arc.

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I've been quietly dating Samairia for a few weeks now. Although she was forward with buying me a drink and leaving her number, I find out quickly that she has never dated a woman before. She's sweet but a little shy and she explains that when she met me she just knew she wanted to get to know me.

She loves her graphic design career and has a passion for art. In fact, she reminds me a little bit of the woman I dated back in college except Samairia is sweet and is genuinely interested in me.

We wander around art museums together when I can make the time and I can't help myself but think of Joonie and his love of art as we wander around the rooms while she excitedly points out pieces to me. I miss him and I feel bad about the way things were left between us. I can't help but quietly reflect on the nature of Jooni and I's friendship while Samairia shares her knowledge about the different pieces she wants to show me.

Samairia and I take it slow, navigating our relationship carefully. Neither of us wants to go too fast, she's still figuring herself out and I'm still uncertain about giving too much access to my heart to anyone.

When we make love for the first time she's sweet, her caramel skin is smooth and lovely and I take my time cherishing every inch of her body. Later when she is riding out her orgasm on my tongue, while crying out my name, I smile knowing she's sharing something special with me. However, when I move up to kiss her, I recognize a deep infatuation reflecting in her sweet brown eyes. As much as she is amazing, and I'm honored that I'm her first sexual experience with a woman, I realize my heart just doesn't feel the same and I panic inside overcome with guilt.

I don't break up with her that night because I don't have the heart, I don't want her to think she did anything wrong in bed, but I certainly can't keep leading her on now that I know for sure what's in my heart.

The next time she comes over I try to break it to her as gently as I can, but she understandably falls apart blaming herself. We talk for a long time, and I try my best to explain to her that unfortunately, I've realized my heart still belongs to someone else and I'm not ready to move on yet. To say I feel like an asshole is an understatement.

She begs me to make love to her one last time as she slides her tongue into my mouth and as much as I know I shouldn't, and my gut says I should make her leave, somehow our bodies still end up tangled up naked with her crying out my name. The next morning I wake up alone in my bed with no sign of her to be had, and I sigh both with a mixture of sadness and relief.

Why can't I just be a normal person and move on?

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