Part 36 (2/2)
”I haven't used you too badly, have I?” she asked, a dim shadow in the darkness.
”No more than I deserve,” I answered. Since that wasn't satisfactory, I continued, ”No, you haven't. It was my choice.”
”All right. I hope that's the truth.”
”It is,” I a.s.sured her. It was close enough.
I put my head on her shoulder and we fell asleep that way.
* 240 *
CHAPTER 22.
When I woke up, bright sunlight was streaming into the room and I was alone in my bed.
I looked around the room. Cordelia was standing next to a window, looking out. I watched her, the play of the clear rays of suns.h.i.+ne on her body. A bright patch on one breast, the other in shadow. One thigh was in the light, her dark pubic hair made even darker by the shade, making it seem both hidden and exposed, an enticing combination. I watched her, knowing that soon she would be leaving.
”Good morning,” she said, catching sight of me.
”Good morning,” I replied. ”Cordelia by morning. You are a sight to wake up to.”
”Good, bad, or indifferent?” she questioned, with a self-deprecating laugh.
”Wondrous.”
She turned to face me, the sunlight falling on her shoulder, catching the peak of her breast.
”You're a very kind person, Micky,” she said, s.h.i.+fting back to face the sun.
I swung my legs off the bed and stood up. Cordelia was still looking out the window. Suddenly she shuddered and then hugged herself, as if she were cold.
”No,” she said, looking at me. ”I've seen too many young women in emergency rooms. You were one of them. Next time you might not walk out.”
”I'm doing my best to stay out of hospitals.”
* 241 *
”Any guarantee?”
”No,” I answered, because there were none.
”I've got to get going,” she said, turning away from the sunlight.
”Not yet. Half an hour more,” I asked, going over to her. I stood very close to her, almost touching.
She nodded and smiled. ”Or forty-five minutes,” she agreed.
I put my arms around her, holding her in the sunlight. We kissed softly, morning kisses.
We made love again. This time we did it slowly, gently, as if savoring the last strawberries of the season.
When we finished, we lay next to each other for a long time, embracing in the radiance of dawn.
I was glad we made love by the light of day. I wanted the possibilities of the morning, not to have our touching confined by the dark boundaries of night. I wanted the sight of her caught in our morning embrace etched in my memory long after she was gone.
The sun reached for us where we lay on the bed, catching an auburn strand of Cordelia's hair, polis.h.i.+ng it a rich umber. I knew it was time to go. Time for me to let her go and wish her well. I s.h.i.+fted, breaking the line of the suns.h.i.+ne.
”Reality awaits, dear Doctor,” I said.
She laughed. Her eyes glinted blue, like a deep clear lake with the bright sun reflected off its gentle waters.
”Reality's here, too,” she answered. She kissed me one more time.
We got up, went into the living room, and put on the clothes we had discarded last night.
”Let's go,” I said, not wanting to prolong the ache that was starting to build up inside me.
She nodded.
We left, making good time back to the city in the light traffic of late morning. All too soon she was pulling in front of my apartment.
”End of the road,” I said, striving for a ba.n.a.l cliche and picking the wrong one.
”Don't say that. We'll still see each other. Too many friends in common.”
”Do I get an invitation to the wedding?”
”Do you want one?”
”No,” I answered honestly. ”I think not.”
* 242 *
”I'm sorry,” she said.
”Why? I have nothing to wear. That's the real reason.”
”I'm sorry,” she began again. ”I seem to have entangled you in my emotional mess. And I think I've been unfair to you.”
”You made your choice. I made mine. Let's stop apologizing for the way things are,” I replied brusquely. I remembered to grab my jacket from the back seat where I had left it to dry, then got my duffel bag and opened the door.
”Goodbye, Micky. Take care of yourself.”
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