He watched her then, as she lay in the bed beside him. Watched as she covered her naked breasts, still red and warm from where they had pressed against his body moments before. He savoured the moment and the sweet scent of her skin.
He smiled to himself, closing his eyes and turning to sleep.
It was then that he felt her turn behind him, placing her hand on his shoulder. She needed no words, a squeeze from her hand said it all. He had known that they couldn’t be or shouldn’t be, but now he knew they wouldn’t be.
“I feel cheap.” She said as she dressed herself. She had a boyfriend. Half a bottle of tequila had weakened her resistance to the infatuation she had for the man who’s bed she now left cold and empty.
“You’re not a bad person.” Came his pitiful attempt at consolation. He felt guilty, he hadn’t made it easy for her. Yet he had been unable to stop himself from feeling something for the beauty as they spoke in the candlelight earlier that evening.
He dared not stop her. She was being torn up inside and he knew it. He knew it, and could do nothing. Anything he said would simply make it worse.
The sun shone out from behind the apartment buildings as they made their way to the bus stop. With a final kiss they said goodbye, and at that moment he knew. He knew that when he watched her step into the bus, he was watching her step out of his life forever.
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Out of Reach.”