Where Is The Edge

Chapter 8

The notion of time was lost when it came to being together with such an interesting person as Marcia Clark, so I was surprised when it was one o'clock in the morning and because of the wine I had drunk only for the purpose of conviviality, I was already beginning to feel sleepy, yet wide conscious.

"It would be unwise to go out at this hour," she implied, observing the wristwatch she always carried with her. I wondered if she bought it because it was on sale at a shop nearby, if a loved one gave it to her, or if it was a family heirloom.

"That watch, how did you get it?" I ignored what she had said earlier, almost making it clear that I could indeed sleep at her house and I would love that.

She glanced at it once more, "it was my grandmother's. An anniversary present from my grandfather," she replied, "when she died, she left her necklace to my mother and she left me her watch. I've worn it ever since."

"It's beautiful, a very special way to remind you that she will always be with you."

"May I ask, your mother... did she leave you anything?" She asked so delicately that I even snorted with amusement.

"It's okay," I placed my hand on top of hers, "it's not like we've had time to say goodbye, like for her to tell me, 'keep this,' but I know she loved to cook, especially the recipes in a book she bought at a book fair. In a way, I feel close to her every time I make one of those recipes, so that might be something she left me."

Unconsciously, I had started to look down to play with my fingers, I wouldn't have noticed it except that Marcia took one of my hands and with the other, she took my chin to make me look up at her. Her lips were quivering and not to mention those beautiful eyes that were taking on a watery consistency.

"It's beautiful too," she whispered, this time taking my face in both hands, "I promise you that, before you know it, you'll be at peace at home, forgetting all about this bitter situation."

"And will I still hear from you then? Will I be able to come here and have these late night conversations with you?" I asked, stroking her wrists with my thumbs, refusing to take my eyes off hers for a second.

"Of course. If you decide you want to keep seeing me, I'd be happy to host you here."

"Now that I've met you, I feel like I never want to let you go," I confessed.

"Please, if you don't want this, you can walk away," she whispered.

"Want what...?"

Before I could think of how and when, she approached so suddenly, her lips were already against mine. I was so happy and yet so confused, with so many doubts swirling around in my mind that I was forced to block them out, and instead, let myself be carried away by the experience of finally fulfilling a desire I had from the first time I saw this wonderful woman.

It was a matter of seconds before I reciprocated, melting at the lusciousness of her mouth, which was beginning to crave more depth. Her tongue began to brush my lower lip, and she didn't have to insist long before I gladly allowed her to do her bidding.

Our breaths began to intensify over the course of a minute or two, so she slowly pulled away. I was afraid that she would have a regretful expression and later tell me that it was a mistake she would never make again, but I felt much calmer when I was met with that beautiful smile.

"It's late, how about we go to sleep and tomorrow I'll drop you off at your work?" She proposed, offering me her hand, which I happily accepted.

We walked to her room, and once we entered, I could better appreciate the space. Her bed was neatly made up, her bedside table was perfectly arranged with only a lamp, a book, a cigarette box and a lighter. If I were shown that room, I could easily deduce that it belonged to Marcia Clark, I couldn't imagine it belonging to anyone else.