Free The End of Summer by Alex M. Smith

minutes
later, she moved towards me, put her head on my chest, and started crying
softly.  I put my hand around her and caressed her softly and kissed her
forehead.  Neither of us said a word; everything was unspoken but clearly
understood.  Her calm at the funeral and her emotional reserve had all
succumbed to a full emotional breakdown.
    “Shall I put the top up?”  I asked her.
    “No, I need the fresh air,” she said softly, took a look at
the road ahead and added, “Take the first right and then up the hill.”
    It was already dark, and the road reached the top of a hill
and disappeared into the woods as a dirt road.  Becca touched my hand and
squeezed it.  It was my signal to stop. We sat there for a while, listening to
the silent sounds of our thoughts. The breeze was getting stronger and cooler. 
I broke the silence and said, “Do you feel cold?  I have a jacket in the back.”
    “Just a little.  I like it like that,” she replied as she
lifted her head and softly kissed my lips.  I responded and nibbled on her
sweet lips, and my hands rubbed her arms and shoulders.  “I missed you so
much,” she said.
    “I missed you too baby,” I replied.  I wanted to talk about
everything, about us and about Miles, but it was hard for me to begin.
    Becca took out a cigarette pack from her bag and a lighter and
told me, “I need a cigarette.  Join me.”
    We both stood in front of the car.  Becca sat on the hood at
first, then suddenly stood up and said, “Oops, it’s hot.”   I came closer and
put my arms around her and held her in my arms in front of me.  From the first
puff, Becca started to talk.  Nicotine was like a truth serum for her.
    “It felt so weird, yesterday and today,” she stopped for a
second.  She took a puff and continued, “Miles didn’t die yesterday, you know.  Today
was just his funeral.”  I tightened my arms around her as she said, “Miles died
the moment I told him that I was pregnant with Lyn, I messed up all his plans.  He
had just finished his MBA and became the second man in his company after his
dad.”
    A teardrop landed on my hand, Becca stopped talking for a
second, and tears ran down her cheeks.  I kissed them away, and she took a deep
breath and continued.  “He came to the city to have a good time, met a naïve
college girl knocked her up and got stuck.”
    “So you never loved him?”  I asked her.
    “When I first met him, I did, but after I knew that he
married me just because his family made him do it, I stopped.”  She took a puff
and asked me, “Did you meet Abbey?  Abigail Hoffman?”
    “I don’t think I did,” I answered her.
    “She’s his high school sweetheart.  Bitch!”  She said.
    “Is she that woman who was crying loudly at the funeral?” I
asked.
    “Yea, that’s the one,” Becca confirmed. “She was his
personal assistant too.  He couldn’t live without her, so he gave her a position
to keep her close to him.  Eighteen years, can you imagine that?”
    “Was he…” I started to ask when she interrupted me.
    “Fucking her?  Sure he was,” she said with anger and
sorrow.  I held her even tighter and kissed her neck, I felt her knees getting
weaker and I could feel her body relax, as her breathing slowed in rhythm with
mine.
    I was getting aroused myself, with her body against mine. 
Then I asked her, “Why didn’t you just leave him?”
    “It’s not that simple.  I wanted what was best for my daughter. 
 Marilyn is my whole life.”  She took the last drag of her cigarette and got
rid of it.  She turned to me, put her hands on my chest and asked me, “Will you
be mine?”
    “I am yours,” I said.
    “Me, only me, no one else,” she said.  “Promise me,” she
urged me.
    “From the first moment I saw you, I wanted you to be mine, I
promise that I will be yours, only yours,” I said passionately.
    “I was planning on leaving him, you know,” she said, and
took a long breath and continued,