Someone I Used to Know - By Blakney Francis Page 0,119

you came to set the day of the adoption scene. I want you because you’re kind. Because of Lazarus and because you treat your housekeeper better than some men treat their own mothers. It’s because you never treat people like passing fads. You let them in, even when you know that one day, you’ll have to say goodbye. I want you because of that little birthmark on your jaw and the way you kiss the corner of my lips. Because you never back down from me.And because you love Madeline….And because you have a way of seeing things exactly how they need to be seen. I want you because you saw me that way. I want you because you loved me before I was loveable.”

“Do you want me enough to let me make my own choices? I don’t want a martyr, Adley. I want a partner, someone to make decisions with me instead of for me.”

“I can try,” she said, so softly I barely heard, but it was enough. It was a promise.

“Then prove it to me,” I urged. “Prove it to me right here and now that you’ll let me make my own decisions. I want to be with you, and I don’t give a damn what the press thinks about my being with someone like you.”

The phone went silent. I glanced down for just a moment to see that she’d hung up, and when I looked back up she was gone.

A flash of pink caught my eye and I found her again. She was moving through the crowd, fighting forward as she earned curses and harsh shoves from those she displaced. I began moving, too.

A mountainous body blocked my path. “Sir, we can’t let you get any closer for security reasons.”

I slipped around him and darted towards the guardrail just as Adley managed to wedge her slim body between two teenage girls. She probably couldn’t have managed it if the girls hadn’t been so distracted by me storming right up to them.

I didn’t hesitate, and neither did she.

We met at the lips. Her arms wrapped around my neck, and mine around her waist, every inch of our bodies pressed together where the metal fence didn’t hinder us. Even that was too much. I pulled her up until she could slide over.

I couldn’t stop kissing her. She smelled like all the things I’d missed about California. My lips wanted to rediscover every part of her, but at the same time, I wanted to break away and just stare. I wanted to know every single thing about the last four months that I’d missed.

When air became a requirement, the decision was made for me.

“I can’t believe that worked,” she breathed out, giddy. Her cheeks were flushed a rosy pink, and the blue of her eyes sharpened with alertness.

I laughed; the booming sound of it was like the echoes of cannonballs from a victorious battlefield. I drew her to me again, unable to restrain myself. I wanted to smother her with affection, and there was no telling how long this open gate of love and happiness with her would last. I’d soak up every minute of it I could.

“I don’t believe you,” I told her with an impish grin. “I think you knew perfectly well that it would work.”

She had to rest her chin on my chest to look up at me, and I was glad she didn’t try to pull away. It was the same feeling I’d had since the moment I’d met her, never growing rusty when I tried to water it down, or tiresome, despite all the time we’d spent together…I didn’t want to let her go.

I never wanted to let her go.

“You and I both know I can’t resist these ridiculous rubber ducky shorts.”

Her eyes darted down to the garment, and she stared at the shorts in surprise like she’d forgotten she had them on. I watched her carefully, waiting for regret or realization that soon, her pajama clad form would be splashed all over newsstands and websites. Instead, she did the most wonderful and surprising thing in the world…

She threw her head back and laughed.

I only a had a moment to appreciate it before she wrapped her hands around the collar of my dress shirt and yanked me down to meet her lips in a kiss that was worthy of the millions of flashing cameras that clicked to capture it.

Epilogue

Five Months Later

The plane hit turbulence, and Adley grasped both armrests with deadly force. She didn’t know