Page 83 of And Then I Kissed Him

“Then what a fucking liar I am.”

“What else do you need?”

“A lot more.” He checked his wristwatch. “Only two minutes now.”

Run, Lucy. Run. Stop looking into his magnetic eyes and run. This was your out.

“Lucille.” The call of my name hypnotized me to lock gaze with his own. His finger on my chin held my head aligned to his own. “I won’t ask you to stay. Not today, not again. I won’t hold you back from finding your happiness. But I will ask this. Close your eyes when I kiss you.”

And then he kissed me. A soft kiss was full of warmth. Warm enough to melt me to him.

I was fully aware that this one kiss could suck the life out of me. But I daren’t stop. I may be all prepared to leave this place but I could never be remotely ready to stop kissing him.

It was only when my tear slid between his fingers that Sam pulled back. Just enough to break the kiss. Just enough for his beautiful eyes to look deep into my own.

“You should go.” Sam whispered.

“Two minutes up already?”

“No, but you should go.”

It was exactly why I tried evading seeing Sam before leaving. I wouldn’t want to go. This would be the very last time I’d see Sam. And he didn’t know that. He didn’t know because I lied when I told him I was leaving next week. Truth was that the taxi that was probably already waiting for me out front was my one-way ticket away from here. In a way, I wanted to lie to myself too. That lie was my cowardly way of evading uttering that final goodbye. But the truth hurt and the lie was worse.

My emotions were soaring epically. My feet were starting to buckle with the trembling from all the anticipation. It was time to go.

I should go.

I must go.

“One minute?” I asked.

“Only seconds now.”

I should go. But not yet. Not until a few more seconds.

Tears flood my eyes, blurring my vision. I blinked my eyes until the tears escaped. I needed to see him clearly. I cradled his face in my hands and looked deep into his eyes to memorize every fleck of his blue-grey irises. To remember his look of hope that I’d change my mind and stay.

Until the time was up. And I tore myself away from him and ran.

Without saying goodbye.

* * *

Chapter Eighteen

I, Lucy Monroe, have officially fallen in love.

Every second I spent in this city made me fall more madly in love with this place. Especially at dusk, when the darkened sky was mixed with the final remnant glow of the sun. It was the thirtieth of December, and the city was all lit up with the twinkling lights of the holiday season. The chill was just right. The barely visible drizzle made the evening seem to go in slow motion. Oh, how I love winter. And the city was always full of life. Today, even more so. It was Friday, the last weekday of the year, and people were all out and about, all dressed to the nines, laughing and cheering. And there I was, walking at the most leisurely pace, my cold hands shoved in my coat’s pockets with a grocery bag dangling on my wrist, all by myself.

If there was one thing missing from my life in the city, that would be friends. If only I had someone to experience the joys of a Friday night out with. One would think it was easy to pick up a few friends here. The city was massive. Plenty of people to choose from, right? Except I never went to a pub or a club or anywhere else with an open opportunity for that. Reasons being that I was too shy and it was not safe to run around by myself. Or maybe I was just a coward who didn’t have the guts to do it. Or maybe because I knew I could never replace my former friends back in town.

The grand window of the shopping mall with all the beautiful dresses on the mannequins steered my mind from any previous melancholic thoughts. It reminded me that retail therapy was always a good idea. Tomorrow, I’ll spend my Saturday and the last day of the year at the mall, my favourite place in the whole city. It was also where I could continue working on one of the items on my bucket list: Get a make-over. Because what else can fix a broken heart than that?

And I’ve been doing just that for a while now. Of course, first on the list of any make-over is hair. After years with long hair, I’ve cut it to just past my shoulder and added some blonde to the ends. Next was my wardrobe. I started wearing the colours I usually didn’t. Black became my new favourite, surprisingly enough even to me. I also had a few self-care appointments. The kind which I’ve neglected for a while, like visiting a dentist. I’ve had two teeth filled and a teeth whitening to brighten up my sad smile. Now I needed to retouch my nails. Thinking mauve or mulberry would look nice to start the year with. Such small things but all that gave me back a boost of confidence.

Although the glow of happiness only lasted until an appointment at a completely different clinic. A routine gynae check-up led to the question most women my age got about their ticking clock. The doctor politely asked if I was planning on starting a family soon. It was that dreadful question that hit everyone differently. For me, it was terrifying because I didn’t have an answer. I mean, kids? Should I be thinking about kids too while thinking about my life plan? I’ve never had the maternal urge so far. Not even when I had that pregnancy scare with Joe. Hell, I didn’t even have the most stellar track record in relationships. How could I possibly raise a kid if I can’t even get choosing their father right? Besides, I didn’t know the first thing about babies. Plus, I was a city girl now. City girls wore high heels and fancy designer clothes. Career women didn’t push strollers. But what about after they change their outfits after they go home from work? They must have had families waiting for them. And me? Could I ever have a kid or two who depended on me to grow up and flourish when I couldn’t even remember to water the plants daily if it wasn’t for the daily notification on my phone?

When I arrived at my apartment, I knew that at this moment in time, as sad and lonely as my life was, I preferred the sound of my own breathing to the noise of kids. For seven weeks and five days, I’ve been coming home to an empty apartment. Seven weeks of absolute silence. Yes, life in the city was more than I imagined, much better, but it was also much lonelier than I could have ever guessed.

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