Free In This Life by Christine Brae Page B

this symphony were all part of a plan. The tempo, the rhythm, the alternating touches and kisses—they all came together in a perfect composition. Beads of sweat formed on his brow; his eyes were darker than they had ever been. He tried to stop, tried to pull back, tried to slow down.
    “Oh God, Blue, I can’t—” he said, gasping and thrusting in deeply one last time.
    I closed my eyes and imagined for once that my life was perfect. That he was the one who would save me from my sorrow.
    We lay face to face in the middle of the floor, on the little mattress that had been witness to our days and nights together. In the intimacy of that moment I became panic-stricken at the thought of a future without him. I never really thought about what our lives would be like after these two weeks in paradise. Somehow, I thought that we would have more time.
    That we would talk. And plan. Or at least say goodbye.
    Once again, he read my thoughts. He enclosed me in his arms and entwined his legs around mine, saying, “I’ll call Dante right when I get back to the States.”
    “Will you?” I asked. I never replaced my phone. I didn’t need to. All this time, we’d communicated through Dante.
    “Of course I will. I feel so bad that I can’t be there for you. But they need me here for another month, and then I have to complete my stint in Australia for another four months.”
    “Five months is a long time.”
    “It will be over before we know it,” he assured me.
    I remained quiet.
    “We have something, you know.” There he was again, looking at me with so much honesty. Every single truth in this world made its home in his eyes.
    I turned around and faced the other way, afraid to reveal my tears, but he pulled me even closer, desperate to convince the both of us that this was more than a stop on the road to leading separate lives.
    “This was meant to be. Know that, my beautiful Bluey,” he repeated.
    “Hmm,” I muttered sleepily, safe in his arms and content with accepting who and what we were to each other.
    I drifted off and was in and out of one dream after another.
    “Blue? Blue, wake up. You’re having a dream. Wake up, baby. You’re safe here with me.” He shook me lightly until I opened up my eyes to look into his face.
    And suddenly it became clear to me. I saw my mother in a different light. “She died happy, Gray. My mother died knowing real love. The night that I saw her with him. She never looked at my father that way.”
    “Not very many people can say that they found that in their lifetime,” he said, lightly tracing the outline of my face with his thumbs.
    “You’re still awake?” I asked in a croaky voice heavy with sleep.
    “I don’t want to end the night without letting you know how much I’m going to miss you.”
    “I’ll miss you too,” I whispered.
    He cradled my face in his hands and kissed me.
    I would always remember that kiss. It sealed my fate to him forever. With that kiss I released my heart and soul into his hands, and I knew that my life would never be the same. It was a promise kiss, a goodbye kiss, a kiss that signified the end but also the beginning.
    When you lose your soul to a kiss… it’s irretrievable.
    “Anna,” he said with his eyes closed, pressing himself to me so that there was not a bit of space between us. I felt his desire against me and it pleased me to know that he wanted me just as much. “Anna Dillon. My gift, my heart. I want you again, and again, and again.”
    And that was when I broke my own heart.
    “What happened between us can never be replicated,” I whispered. “That moment we just had. That’s what I want you to remember. If you forget anything else about our time together, don’t forget this.” He smiled weakly at me. His face was masked in disappointment but his eyes, they showed me relief. We had sealed our connection in the physical sense. There was no need to reaffirm anything else. “And Gray?”
    “Yes, Blue,” he