Stained Glass Shards

18.

When did silly notes in class become love? For me, it had always been love. For him, I think it was the moment he pulled me close—after studying his lines. He seduced me with his body because he'd already won me over with his charm. It wasn't the friendly-hug-before-leaving embrace, which had been the norm. It became the grip of a man who didn't want to release his woman—incapable of disentangling himself from the lush body lying comfortably on a tiny mattress in a cold room in late autumn. Pressed against each other so as not to fall off the small bed or touch the cold cinder block walls painted institution gray. Evolving to a full-sized bed in a similarly sized room—delighting in each other's bodies while the only sounds came from a whistling radiator and a creaking metal bed frame. How many people had made such love noises within the same room or on the antique bedsprings? Did other people get the same warmth from kisses under plush covers, scorching flesh, and shuddering sex?

--Iliana Gardner, Stained Glass Shards

GRIFFIN

How can she so easily gut me with her words?

"Am I completely out of your life?"

She paused, looking at me—seeking an answer from somewhere deep within. She bit her bottom lip and winced slightly. "I'm happy."

"You mean you're happier without me?"

"I'm just happy. I can't quantify if I'm happier with you in or out of my life. I'm just being me."

"You don't look like you. You sound like you—not the old you. I can hear the young woman who used to make me laugh. Who knew exactly how to take care of me."

"That's where the problem lies, Griffin. You didn't know how to care for me."

She wasn't wrong. I didn't know how. I thought I had done enough. "Can we be friends?"

"Friends?" she asked, confused. "Too much has passed between us to ever go back to being friends."

"It's the first day of class, I sit next to you in the back, and we start talking. I make some silly joke."

"Everything you've ever said was silly."

I laughed. "Can we try to be friends again?"

"How do you expect this to go?"

I thought for a bit. "Just us, enjoying each other's company."

"With clothes on?"

"That's optional," I answered.

"No clothes—deal breaker."

"I just want to talk. Let me show you around."

"That's all?"

"Just two grown adults who enjoy spending time together."

"I hope that's all there is to it," she said.

"Fingers crossed and hope to die." I smiled.

My fingers were crossed all right—to get her back.

***

My arm started to feel better. It could have been a byproduct of how I was feeling with Ely back in my life. The doctor told me I could forego the sling, but not to do too much. I didn't want to continue appearing weak and feeble. Ely needed a man. And I was just the man to be her lover and protector.

Ely had finally agreed to go out with me—dinner and an industry party. She wanted the afternoon to work on her book, and I had a doctor's appointment.