the guilt from their unexpected encounter-turned-tryst could be managed when it was numbed by routine and reason. at least, that was what the man told himself. as karma would have it, the remorse stemming from their kiss eventually took on a life of its own, haunting each and every move he made. he replayed the moment over and over again in his mind: the wisp of her breath against his skin, the quiver of her lips before meeting his. it would've been the simplest thing to label it a mistake, and file it away with all the other things a married man should've never done — but it wasn't simple. on the contrary, the act had been a confession steeped in touch, a truth he was terrified to name. every morning since, he had woken with the taste of her still lingering . . . sweet, ruinous. and every night, he laid next to his wife feeling further from the man she believed him to be.
what he hadn't planned on was seeing eleanor again, and definitely not so soon, when the memory of what they'd done still lived so vividly in his head. but, when their paths crossed at the mailbox that afternoon, his resolve turned to dust with one look at her. the smile that drifted across her features, small and cautious, had him feeling the same magnetic pull to her again. it was maddening. "i wasn't sure i'd see you again . . ." his voice trailed off, practicing similar caution, afraid one misspoken word would have her running in the other direction. "i didn't know if you'd want to."
