Page 62 of A Hidden Past

Not that it matters. I’m not here to seduce her.

She answers the door before I knock, and I say, “How do you do that?”

She laughs. There’s mirth in her laugh, but there’s sadness too. I get it. I feel the same way.

“I have a security camera system. It beeps whenever anyone walks onto my driveway.”

She falls silent a moment, and I take a long look at her. She’s wearing a pair of jogging shorts and a halter top. Both items hug her body and emphasize the curves of her waist and her breasts. She is absolutely beautiful.

She tilts her head shyly and asks, “So… do you want to come inside?”

I chuckle. “Yeah. I would love to.”

She beams and opens the door so I can walk in. Right away, I notice the wrapped stacks of boxes she has in the living room.

“You’re moving?”

She sighs. “Yeah. Looks like. I was supposed to sell the house and split the money with my ex during the divorce, but I never did. He finally got tired of waiting and told the court. So, I have to put the house on the market within a month.”

“Well, you might not have to move right away. Maybe it’ll take a while to sell.”

She laughs. “Honey, I’ll have a buyer within two weeks. Neighborhoods like this attract people like flies.”

I catch the double meaning there and chuckle. “Well, someone’s going to get a nice house.”

“It is a nice house,” she agrees. “If only a nice person could live in it one day.”

“You’re a nice person.”

She smiles at me. “You’re only saying that because I let you into my bed.”

“Actually, no. I'm saying it because you listened to me when no one else would, and you comforted me when no one else has. Don't get me wrong, the sex was nice, but—"

She lifts her eyebrow. “Nice? The sex was nice?”

I grin. “The sex was incredible.”

“There you go. Much better.”

We both laugh and then fall silent. Vivian’s the first to break the silence. “That’s over now, isn’t it?”

I nod. “Yeah. I think so.”

She looks away. “That’s probably for the best. I like you a lot, but… well…”

“You’re twenty years older than me.”

She chuckles and says, “God, that sounds so horrible, especially when you say it.”

“Would it make you feel better if I said you were the best I ever—”

“No,” she interrupts, staring hard at me over her smile. “No, it would not.”

“Well then, I’ll just say that I’ll always treasure what we had together, and I’m really grateful to you for it.”

Her smile softens. “Me too.”

We stand in silence that is both comfortable and awkward for a long moment. Then she says, “Screw it. I’m going to have a drink. Want some?”

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