sense of time, filled with a faraway sense of herself as an old woman, and Edwin as an old man, dancing at the wedding of a great-grandchild, to this song.
She saw her babies, new and mewling, and saw their strong sons. She saw the weddings at which she and Edwin would dance, in blue satin and black suits, in square-necked bodices and pressed trousers. It made her feel light and whole and exactly where she was meant to be. He would be her husband and she would be his wife, all of their days.
A lot of girls she knew worried about their boyfriends cheating when they drank too much, or running around behind their backs, or falling under the spell of another woman, or beating them. Elena did not worry. From that first day at Donnie’s funeral, he had loved her. They would be married when she graduated from high school, because they wanted to make a better life for themselves, move to Albuquerque, maybe, where she could have a catering shop. He was a modern guy. He wanted her to work, both of them to work, so they could give their children more than they had themselves. Swaying with him, though, she clasped her secret to herself, the new life growing in her. It would be born before they married, but that was all right.
In her dream, he crawled into her bed in Aspen, Colorado. He curled around her and pressed his lips to her hair and whispered, I missed you. His body was naked beneath the covers, and he pushed his hands beneath her old, paper-thin T-shirt, curving his strong palms to her ribs. His bare leg moved over her thigh, and Elena turned to him, tears wetting her face.
It’s been so long, she whispered, letting him take her into his arms. I missed you. I missed you.
It’s true, he rumbled into her hair, his hot breath on her neck, you and I, the truest thing in our lives. I love you. His hands drifted over her body, lifting her breasts and putting his mouth down to kiss her chest and her neck. His member nudged her thigh, damp and hungry, and his hands drifted down, sliding between her legs, finding the ready wet heat, and he made love to her with hands and mouth and member, and she wept, knowing even in her dream that it was a dream.
A dream, a dream—Edwin’s hands and his long-lashed black eyes that made her think of Julian, and the taste of his lips, things she should have forgotten in twenty years, but never seemed to lose. He came to her in dreams when she needed him, needed release or comfort. He made love to her, just as he was, moving, moving, kissing and touching her until she was—
She jerked awake to an empty bed and her own hands squeezing out a massive orgasm between her legs, and tears streaming from her eyes from a fresh, hot, renewed sense of grief. When it was done, she turned her face into the pillow and let the ripples ease.
Alone, alone.
Always alone.
It was a bad morning for more than the dream. She had them every now and then. Edwin explained that he could only visit for the day, just long enough for them to go on a picnic or dance one dance or—
The dreams left her depressed and aching, and this morning, she was very stiff, as well. Limping into the kitchen to make coffee, she fired up the laptop and shook out her shoulders, tried to stretch her arms overhead.
Everything in her lower back exploded, and she bent over with a gasp. Her legs burned, and something fiery hot and purple burned in her left hip.
Jesus.
The days were too long. She needed more straight walking. A good massage therapist. More resting. In a few weeks, the restaurant would be open and she could get back to a regular schedule, but for today, she’d have to get a massage. Find a hot tub. She typed in her search parameters for massage in Aspen, fighting tears as her lower back spasmed.
The email function on her laptop dinged. Hoping to hear from Mia, she clicked the icon.
From: [email protected]
Subject: oh i get it
he just wants to fuck you
www.tabloid photo link 950343h1h932/oapher/
Elena clicked the link and groaned. It was a photo of her and Julian at dinner the night before, when she’d offered him a vegetable to taste. He was leaning in, and she was smiling slightly,