Nocturne(80)

I dropped my hands to her hips as she moved faster, with urgency. Savannah lowered her head, her hair falling down over her shoulder again, curtaining around my face. I leaned up on my elbows and kissed her.

I wanted to tell her she was beyond compare. I wanted to beg her for more. Harder. My words failed me as I strung together a mess of inaudible gasps and groans. With a low growl escaping from the depths of my need for her, I grabbed her hips and rolled her to her back.

“God, Gregory.” She swallowed hard as she lifted her knees.

Sitting back for a second, I grabbed one of her ankles, then the other, and set them on my shoulders. She straightened her legs, bringing me even deeper as we cried out in unison at the raw intensity of the feeling.

Savannah’s long fingers wrapped around the backs of my thighs, holding me in place, as I pushed harder and faster. The pitch of her cries climbed each time I thrust into her. Each time her nails dug harder into my skin.

“Yes … Savannah … ah …”

Her eyes closed tightly as she cried out one last time, every muscle in her body tensing underneath her glistening skin. She released her grip on my thighs, clawing at the sheets, balling the fabric in her hands as her back arched. Driving me insane. Watching, feeling her come undone, overrode my sense of self, and I was completely lost in us. I buried my face against her neck, a moan escaping my lips, as I felt her entire body shuddering against mine. My eyes forced themselves closed as my mind went utterly blank. My body spasmed against hers once, twice, three times, before I collapsed onto her, my heart pounding in my chest, my breathing ragged.

Both of us lay there, gasping for breath. Our bodies were slick with sweat, and I leaned my head back and looked her in the eyes and said, “You are so f*cking beautiful, Savannah.”

“I love you, Gregory,” she whispered for the second time since we’d been in my room. The words hurt this time. Because I did love her. I’d always loved her. But how did I reconcile that with my life?

I slowly and carefully rolled off of her, shifting so she could rest her head on my chest. Our breathing had finally slowed, but I could feel her heart beating against my chest. With one languorous arm stretched across my chest, her fingers curled up on my right side. My head tilted to the left, and if I leaned down, I could have kissed her forehead. I wrapped my left arm behind her and the fingers of my right hand intertwined with hers. Our legs were tangled, hooked around each other’s, and goosebumps sprang up across her skin.

“Are you cold?” I asked.

“No,” she whispered.

But I reached down with my right arm and pulled the blanket up anyway. Darkness had long since settled in the room, though very faint light shone around the curtains, just enough to illuminate the hair framing her face.

I was as relaxed, as calm, as happy as I’d ever been. Part of me wanted to drift off to sleep, right where we were. Which made no sense, because I didn’t like touching anyone when I slept. I never, ever slept touching Karin.

That thought stopped me cold. Karin. A part of me asked, what have I done? But it was a small part. Because right then, where I was, here, with her, felt more right than anything I’d ever felt in my life. And I didn’t want Karin, even thoughts of her, intruding into this space. This sacred, amazing space.

I blinked my eyes then squeezed them shut, because I was afraid if I kept them open, tears would spill over. Because ... I could only ask myself ... why? Why had I let her go? Why did I tell James those years ago that I’d cut off contact with Savannah? Why did I let her walk away? Because in all too many ways, I’d been living in hell since the day she walked away.

And now? Now I was married.

To someone else.

I breathed out, involuntarily whispering the words, “I love you, Savannah.”

At those words she sucked in a quick breath. I squeezed my eyebrows together at an unfamiliar sensation. A tear, fallen from her eyes to my chest.

“I’ve loved you since the beginning,” she whispered.

I slowly inhaled. I started to answer, but before I did, she took a breath again and spoke.

“I loved you the first time I saw you play the cello. I loved how you caressed it, how you made the music alive.”

I couldn’t think. I couldn’t answer. I just looked down, allowing her to finish.

“I love the way you look at me,” she said.

I kissed her delicately on the forehead, a tiny wisp of her hair staying on my lips. I broke my right hand away from hers and brought it to my eyes, wiping them furiously. Because I’d never wanted to admit to anyone that when I’d married Karin, I’d always imagined I was really with Savannah.

I’d wished.

I’d wanted her so badly.

I opened my mouth to speak again, but she wasn’t finished.

“I loved the way you looked at me when we played together. I loved that it was exactly the same as you looked when we were making love.”

I swallowed. Tried to breathe in. I tried to say something. But I couldn’t even think. And then she said the words. She said them in a quiet tone, her voice breathy, beautiful, as open and vulnerable as I’d ever heard anyone sound.

“I love us,” she said.

I suppressed a sob. And I whispered, “I do too.”

At that moment I knew this couldn’t last. I couldn’t have just part of her. I wanted Savannah in my life for good. I wanted her more than anything. I wanted her as my partner, as my lover, as my wife. For the first time in my adult life, I was … happy … overjoyed ... to be touching someone, to have someone in my arms, and I never wanted to let that go. I never wanted to let her go.