The Secret of You and Me - Melissa Lenhardt Page 0,81
story. Most importantly, I couldn’t let her leave Lynchfield without telling her I love her. Still.”
Nora didn’t move; it didn’t look like she was breathing. I took one step forward, knowing there was more, that I had to lay myself completely bare. “NoNo.” My voice broke, and I swallowed. “I’ve been an ass, and I don’t deserve you or your forgiveness. But, I’ve never stopped loving you, and I never will.”
Nora placed a hand on her stomach, her chest rising and falling, finally. She came to me, setting her coffee cup on the kitchen table. Being this close to her the years fell away, and I looked into the face of the girl I fell in love with. I reveled in the tiny flecks of brown in her hazel eyes, the freckles dusting her nose, the way her eyelashes lightened at the tips. I knew one of her front teeth jutted slightly in front of the other, that if you pressed your thumb to the center of her chin, you could feel the cleft, though you couldn’t see it.
She reached up and ran her thumb beneath one of my eyes, then the other, wiping away tears I didn’t realize were there, but her eyes wouldn’t meet mine. “Say something,” I whispered, feeling fresh tears. “Anything.”
Her expression, so inscrutable, softened as her eyes met mine. The corners of her mouth lifted into a gentle smile, and she cradled my face in her hands. “I’ve never stopped loving you, and I never will.”
twenty
nora
I would have never thought the torture training I learned in the military would be put to its hardest test while listening to the woman I loved lay herself bare in front of me.
After wiping her tears away, we embraced for a long time, Sophie crying quietly on my shoulder while I rubbed circles on her back.
I wished more than anything that I could take back everything I told Brenda about me and Sophie. If I hadn’t pushed Brenda she wouldn’t have threatened Sophie with conversion camp and we might have been able to have gone through with our plan for Sophie to meet me after boot camp. But, listening to Brenda berate me, call me the vilest names she could think of, made me snap. I didn’t only tell her Sophie instigated the relationship, I gave her details. Graphic details. It felt good, seeing Brenda’s face transform from haughty condescension to horror. If I ever considered how Brenda would take it out on Sophie, I don’t remember. But, at the time I didn’t think it could get much worse than going to a school with a statue of praying hands. Knowing what I know now about conversion camps, I know it gets a lot worse.
“I’m sorry.”
She sniffed. “For what?”
“Everything. It’s all my fault.”
Sophie pulled back. “No, it’s not. That’s not why I told you the story.”
“Conversion camp? That’s because I told Brenda about us. In detail.”
“No wonder she looks horrified when your name is mentioned.”
“The beer?” I said. “If I hadn’t been such a bitch in the barn, if I’d shown you just a little bit of grace...”
“I didn’t deserve it.”
“Yes, you do. You deserve all of my forgiveness, and more.” I held on to her tightly. “You are so strong, Sophie Russell.”
“If I were strong, I’d walk out that door, let you go back to your life. But, I can’t.”
Sophie’s hand was at the small of my back, pulling me to her, her other buried in my hair, easing my head to one side so her lips could travel up my neck to my ear. “Do you really forgive me?” she whispered.
“Yes. Do you forgive me?”
“Yes,” she breathed in my ear.
My body was barraged with tiny explosions of desire and, deep down, I grieved for all the years this had been missing from my life, that Sophie had been missing. I wanted her as I’d never wanted before, and when our lips met, I fell into her. My God, Sophie knew how to enchant me.
“Wait, wait,” I said, against her mouth.
Sophie continued to kiss me, walking me backward toward the hall to the bedrooms. “Please stop talking,” she said between kisses. Her hands were under my shirt, caressing my sides, my back, moving up my stomach to...
I pulled away. “This isn’t fair to you.”
She exhaled sharply, frustration evident in her expression. “I know what this is, Nora. Okay? No strings. A fling. Whatever you want to call it.”