Chapter Two – Turning Back the Clock (page 2)
by Shiloh
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She sighed and looked up at him seriously. “We almost had it right didn’t we?”
“Almost.” Looking away form her, thinking of Grace and at how history repeated itself. “Almost” softly to himself. “Well, let me get your gloves.”
The conversation consisted of mainly small talk while they drained their glasses. She thanked him and he held her coat for her as she slipped into it. At the door she turned to him and kissed him lightly on the cheek. In a serious tone “You need a girlfriend. I know someone...”
Interrupting, “Spare me Chris. Now goodnight.”
“Well, okay then. ‘Night.”
He heard the car leave.
Later as he lay in bed staring out at marching clouds that obscured a sliver of a moon, a shroud of uncertainty engulfed him like fog. He was a ship on the ocean with no way to steer clear of the shoals, no beacon from the lighthouse, only a siren’s song. He loved his work and he wanted to teach. He connected with Grace and he wanted her. This wasn’t one of those situations where you could learn by trial and error, particularly error. An icy calmness descended over him. These were thoughts he couldn’t be thinking. He knew he must strengthen his resolve. He had to hold Grace, and himself if he’d admit it, at bay. They couldn’t be friends. And he knew it wasn’t going to be easy. The pounding in his head, was that the drumfire of regret or the retaliation of the wine? He suspected both.
Night had long been opened before darkness slipped over him. He dreamt of snow.