“Yes, thank you.” I smile. “I hope my snoring didn’t keep you awake.”
He stands and walks toward me, joining me on the balcony.
“My body was so drained a train could have crashed through our room last night and I would not have woken.” His eyes twinkle, and he kisses my forehead. I know exactly how he feels; we both slipped into an exhausted sleep around three this morning. I am amazed that I feel so rested on only four hours sleep. He stands behind me, his chin resting on my head as we stare at the rooftop view. Being with him brings me such joy, a peace I can neither explain nor comprehend. I only know that I feel as though I have found my other half, the piece of me that has been missing for so long.
“How is your coffee?” he inquires, placing a soft kiss on my neck.
“Perfect.” I already feel the awakening of butterflies in my stomach.
“You seem to be walking very well this morning. Perhaps too well.” He pulls the robe off my shoulder, exposing my naked flesh. “Maybe we need to do something about that.” His playful threat causes a throbbing sensation to return at the very thought of him touching me.
Matthew removes my coffee cup from my grip, setting it on the patio table beside me, and guides me back into the room and up the stairs. As we climb the staircase, he carefully disrobes me, discarding the white fluffy mass somewhere halfway up the staircase. He pulls the sheets back, and I slide in while he casts off his shorts and follows me into bed, enveloping me in his arms.
We lie for a while wrapped in each other’s arms, our hands roaming over each other’s skin, gentle touches and soft caresses. I love being able to look at him in the light, to watch him and to see him watch me. His kisses are slow and deep, unhurried and precise. Once again, my body responds eagerly, begging for his touch, for his masterful fingers to play me like a fine instrument. He positions himself between my thighs and leisurely enters me, shallowly at first, and then, unhurriedly, he glides his full length within me. We make love, slow dancing to our own song, savoring each moment.
Buried deeply in me, he rolls over and pulls me with him so that I’m straddling him, staring down at him. As my weight adjusts and my hips open, he sinks deeper still, filling me completely. His hands hold my hips so he has complete control of my every move as we continue our dance, losing all sense of time and space, focusing only on one another.
As much as I long to move to my own rhythm, Matthew is forcing me to take it slow, to experience the physical joining of our bodies. As we move together, as I feel him deep within me, his eyes never leave mine, and as I find myself climbing higher and higher toward my rapture, the intense look in his eyes makes me feel like he is staring into my soul. Finally, he releases my hips, his hands moving to my breasts, encircling them, tugging at the tender nipples. I am free to dance. My hips circle wildly, my breathing becomes rapid, the pressure inside finally exploding as an inferno sears through me. I keep my eyes open, locked onto Matthew’s dark eyes. His gaze is intense, and as my body arches and my nails dig deep into his chest, I find my sweet release once more.
The ripples within me have barely subsided when he flips me onto my back, my hips still straddling his. Matthew is still buried deep within me, now ready for his turn. Once again, he moves slowly at first, tenderly allowing me to recover, kissing me softly, our tongues matching the rhythm of his hips. I hold onto him, my arms across his back and shoulders. Drawing up my legs, I open my hips to allow him fuller access as his tempo increases; he pulls out, and then pushes in harder. Faster and faster, the bed starts trembling, then rocking; small muffled screams escape me each time he thrusts into me. The pace reaches a crazed fervor, and Matthew lets out a loud moan and collapses on top of me as I feel the warmth of his release spreading within me.
Smiling, I relax my legs around him and softly kiss his shoulder. I love the feel of his weight on top of me, the taste of his sweat, and the scent of our lovemaking. I absorb every last moment, trying to commit to memory each detail because I know this is the last time I will ever make love to Matthew. This memory has to sustain me for a lifetime.
We shower together one last time, washing away the remnants of our lovemaking. We take turns bathing each other, and Matthew insists on shampooing my hair. I find the act profoundly intimate and romantic.
Later, as I finish blow drying my hair, I take one last look in the mirror to check my appearance. I’m wearing my boots and jeans from yesterday and a fresh white T-shirt. By now, I don’t have much to choose from in my suitcase, so this is as good as it’s going to get. I have a black jacket with my carry-on bag, and once I put my toiletries away, I am all packed. Matthew is busy packing his last items in his bag; he looks sexy in dark wash jeans, a dark grey V-neck T-shirt, and a black sports jacket. His sunglasses, once again, are on top of his head, holding back his hair. We are both clean and refreshed, ready to leave the hotel on time.
We take the footbridge link from the hotel to Paddington Station, where the express trains run every few minutes from Paddington to Heathrow. The journey takes around fifteen minutes. We quickly find ourselves arriving at Heathrow terminal three with plenty of time to spare. I start to head to the self-check-in machine, but I see Matthew has turned in the opposite direction, toward first class. We stop, staring at each other with about twenty feet separating us in the middle of the terminal.
“I’m in coach,” I stutter, never having considered that we wouldn’t sit together on the plane. My heart sinks, and I feel like it’s been swallowed by the earth below me.
“Don’t check in yet. Come over here for a minute, and let me see what they can do,” Matthew suggests, beckoning me toward him. I step in his direction, but I already know that upgrading my ticket isn’t an option.
“Give me your ticket and wait here.” He removes my ticket from my hand and instructs me to stay where I am while he goes to the first-class check-in desk.
A beautiful blonde in her mid-thirties greets Matthew, all smiles in a crisp white blouse that fits tightly across her breasts and a bright red suit fitting the contours of her body. Her hair is neatly pinned in a French chignon, a purple silk scarf is tied around her neck, and her lipstick matches her suit. Matthew is obviously explaining himself, and he points her attention to me several times. The representative starts tapping at her computer terminal, smiling and nodding as if answering yes to all of Matthew’s questions.
“Kate.” Matthew motions for me to come over. “We’ve found a solution,” he says as I arrive next to him. “Haven’t we, Jane?”
She gives me a fake smile, and like a programmed robot, she responds, “Yes, Mrs. Jacobs.” She puts emphasis on the “Mrs.” “We have been able to allow for a compromise and upgrade your journey to business class today, as the flight is underbooked. You and Mr. Sullivan have new seat assignments and boarding passes, along with complimentary passes to the lounge. If I may have your passport, Mrs. Jacobs, and your luggage, I will gladly complete your check-in.”
“Really?” I look at Matthew, wondering what on earth he did to change my ticket and downgrade his.
“Passport!” he responds.
“I’m sorry you gave up your first-class seat for me.” I apologize, feeling terrible.
“Kate, first class is over rated. Plus, these new Airbus configurations have individual pods. We would have been sitting separately, with a wall between us, if I upgraded your ticket. Having a wall between us is not exactly how I plan on wasting the next twelve hours. Business class is a much better solution, and I’ll have you right beside me.”
I hand over my passport without further dispute, Jane completes our check-in, and soon enough, Matthew and I are through security and browsing the duty free shops. I buy some chocolate for Allie, and Matthew buys each of his girls a T-shirt and a stuffed animal. He chooses a tin of soft toffee and tea bags for his mum. While he ventures off to purchase some Scotch, I wander through the cosmetics section, smelling various perfumes and colognes. I am trying to figure out if any of them smell like
Matthew.
A polite sales girl offers me a sample of a new perfume, and I continue to browse while wafting the scented piece of paper back and forth under my nose. It smells exotic, and something about it appeals to me, so I go back to treat myself to a bottle. After all, my birthday is coming soon. Matthew joins me as I approach the counter.
“Smell this,” I say, passing the sample to him, touching the tip of his nose with it.
“Ummm, delectable.” He inhales the scent deeply. “There’s something very exotic about it. Something that reminds me of you.” He leans over and places a soft kiss on my lips.
“Ummm,” I groan, savoring his lips.
“Hello, madam.” The sales girl snaps me back to reality. “Did you change your mind?” Her young face looks hopeful about a possible sale.
“Yes, actually, I will take one after all,” I inform her, excited about my purchase. “May I spray some on right now?”
“Absolutely, madam,” she replies. She hands me a small bottle that looks like a glass grenade filled with pink liquid.
I spray the perfume behind each ear and across my left wrist, rubbing it into my right to spread the scent. Matthew leans in, inhaling, a smile spreading across his face as he pulls away from me. His approval is obvious.
“Two, actually,” Matthew chimes in. “We’ll take two bottles, please.”
“Lovely,” the sales girl replies cheerfully.
“Two?” I turn to him. “I don’t need two.”
“No, Kate, you only need one.” He turns back to the sales girl and hands her his boarding pass, passport, and credit card before she asks for them and before I can even think about paying.
“Thank you, sir,” she replies, taking his documents and running his card.
I see. He’s buying his wife the same perfume I picked out for myself. Well, isn’t that a big slap in the face? With all the hundreds of perfumes and cosmetics for sale at Heathrow, he doubles up on my purchase. I didn’t think that was Matthew’s style, but obviously, I’m wrong. I find myself wandering away from where he’s standing, not wanting to lose my temper or cause a scene.
Matthew catches up to me, and I notice he doesn’t have any bags.
“Did you decide against buying either of us the perfume in the end?” I spit out sarcastically.
“No, Kate, my duty free bags will be delivered to the aircraft,” he responds, as if any reasonable person should know that. Well, I didn’t know that. I’m carrying Allie’s chocolate like a normal person. I stand firm, not moving, while hoards of people pass us in the constant movement of the airport.
“Kate, this is neither the time nor the place to get into a disagreement about how many bottles of perfume I purchase. Please, let’s just go over to the lounge.” Matthew is agitated, and when he reaches for my hand, I pull it away, upsetting him more.
“Katherine,” he warns. “I have less than twelve hours to spend with you, the last twelve hours that I will ever get to spend with you. Please, let’s not do this. Not now.”
Matthew extends his hand again. I feel myself cave in, and I know he’s right. Twelve hours is all we have left together. Do I want to behave this way? I reach out and take his hand as relief washes over his face. We start walking together toward the first class lounge.
“Thank you,” he says, lifting my hand to his lips and deeply kissing the inside of my palm.
I am thankful that the first class lounge is quiet, with only a couple of people relaxing. Matthew and I find an empty seating area in a private corner and sit together on a comfortable couch. I slide up next to him and his arm pulls me closer. I lay my head against his chest. I close my eyes and breathe him in, allowing his scent to fill my lungs and sink into every corner of my body.
“My wife doesn’t wear perfume, Kate.” He breaks the silence, speaking softly. “You shouldn’t jump to conclusions.”
“Your mistress, then?” I say, teasing. “Why would you buy two, Matthew?”
“For me, Kate. I purchased one for me. I can keep it tucked away at my office, and every time I smell it I’ll think of you.”
I’m speechless; that thought had not entered my head. I wouldn’t take back the past two days for anything in the world, but I’m beginning to wonder how I’m going to survive without him.
“What are we going to do, Matthew?”
“Kate, you already know the answer to that. You have Allie, and I have Emma and Rosie. My girls are my world. I will always stay in Australia; I won’t leave them, just like you won’t leave Allie and California. We’ve had a once in a lifetime chance to be together again. I can’t explain it, Kate, but we were meant to be here, to share something beautiful. No one can ever take that away from us, and we don’t have to share it with anyone. We’ve finally been able to lay those bad memories to rest, heal those wounds from so long ago, and find answers to those questions. We can move on now, knowing we loved each other, that we still love each other.”
I weep silently as I listen to Matthew, my head resting against his chest. I feel his calm and steady breathing. Each word echoes within him, as if he is making sure I understand.
“I’ll wake up every day knowing that on the other side of the Pacific, you’re going to bed thinking of me. I’ll know that every time you touch your tattoo, you’ll think of me, and when you smell this perfume, you’ll think of me, and I of you. For whatever reason, we’re not destined to be together in this lifetime. Perhaps in another one, we’ll find each other and reunite. Maybe we’ve lived many lifetimes together, Kate, your soul and my soul.”
He goes on, “We’re going to spend the next twelve hours filling ourselves completely with one another to make it bearable to part in Los Angeles and walk away without any regrets. We can’t exchange emails or phone numbers; we’re not going to make our lives complicated. I don’t have any social media accounts, and I don’t plan to. I promise not to compromise your life, and hope you’ll have the same respect for me. You have a good husband, and I have a good wife. We both have good lives, and we love our spouses. ”
“Yes,” I numbly agree. “Do you feel guilty?”
“Never, Kate.” I feel his lips kiss the top of my head. “What I feel is immense love in my heart for you. There is no room for me to feel anything else.”
“What if circumstances change?” I ask.
“What do you mean, change?”
“I don’t know. What if something happens? Shouldn’t we have some kind of plan if something significant happens? You know, for in the future, when the kids are older.” I try to clarify my thinking, hoping Matthew doesn’t think I’m planning to divorce my husband and show up in Australia. “What if in ten, or even twenty years, we both find our marriages have fallen apart, and our kids have grown and moved away? What then?”
He hesitates, carefully choosing his response. “Fate, Kate, I leave it to fate. But … I suppose there will always be Terry and Diana. I promise I’ll remain in contact with Terry, and you will always be in contact with Diana. We can communicate through them in the event something major happens.”
“Agreed.” I am fairly satisfied with that.
“But only under extreme circumstances, Kate. As long as what we’ve shared is between the two of us, no one gets hurt, but the moment we involve others, people will get hurt, Kate. Innocent people get hurt, our children get hurt, and that damage is irreversible. I never want to be that dad, and I am pretty confident that you never want to be that mum.”
“Understood.” I surrender to his terms, knowing there is no other way.
Hurting Dave or Allie is not something I plan to do; neither of them deserves that. I don’t want Matthew to be in constant fear, looking over his shoulder, thinking I will show up and disrupt his life. Matthew’s right. He and I have righted a wrong, and we have brought closure for ourselves and managed to heal a wound in both of us that had dramatically affected our lives. We’ve written a new ending for our love story. How can we not find great happiness in that?
&nbs
p; We’ll be able to move on from this and embrace the beauty of what we’ve discovered and what we’ve shared. In Los Angeles, we can go our separate ways and never look back. I have managed to survive most of my lifetime without Matthew, always assuming he never truly cared for me. Now, knowing that I have held his heart for all these years, that we share this incredible connection, surviving the future should be easy. I have Allie to think about; her happiness is my greatest concern, and she’ll be the one who will get me though this. I will not make the mistakes my parents made. Truth be told, even if Matthew wanted to be with me, I would not uproot Allie and move her away. I would never put a child through that experience, especially as a teenager.
As for Matthew, I understand how important his girls are; his own father abandoned him and his mother for another woman. It doesn’t matter if we are soul mates, his children’s happiness comes first, and he will not repeat his father’s mistakes. My soul is at peace, my heart overflowing with love for Matthew; there is no room for guilt or regret. It’s impossible to feel guilt when you believe you have done nothing wrong.
CHAPTER 20
Lovesong
I have a far greater understanding of Matthew’s reasoning about the plane seating when we board a couple of hours later and I catch sight of the first class area. Indeed, there are miniature cubicles zigzagged throughout the extravagant front area of the aircraft, perfect for travelers wishing to have some space and the luxury of lying down—alone. They are not designed for lovers, or romance, or even to be social. These personal pods are strictly designed for solitary personal space and function.
I am enormously relieved as I climb into my wide, plush, fully reclining leather seat in row seventeen. Matthew secures all our shopping bags and carry-on items in the overhead compartment and settles into his seat beside me, resting his hand on my thigh.
Leaning toward me, he reaches for my face, turning my gaze his way, and whispers, “See? In first class, I wouldn’t be able to do this.” He pulls me to him, his lips close on top of mine in a gentle kiss. I close my eyes, savoring his taste. “And I wouldn’t be able to do this.” His hand slides farther up my thigh, his long, lean fingers disappearing into the gap between my legs. His shocking, brazen public show of affection causes me to ache for his touch, and I feel my cheeks burn as I pray no one sees.
Don't Look Back Page 15