Page 97
She laughs, a light, joyful sound that fills my chest.
“As much as I want to, dancing for the first time in front of a room full of people I don’t know is a little much for me.”
I detest the idea of dancing. But I loathe the idea of her sitting on the sidelines even more.
“Follow me.”
We move to the elevator. I’ve spent countless hours here over the years. The elevator doors close, leaving me alone with my wife for a precious few seconds. Her scent, that same delicate blend of daisies and strawberries, teases me. I glance down at her and nearly give in to the urge to kiss her when she smiles up at me.
But I don’t. I’ve come too close to crossing the line already. I worried about Tessa not being able to keep herself emotionally removed during our affair. Yet the more I spend time with her, the more I taste her, the more I wonder how difficult it will be to let her go when the time comes.
I lead her through the pillars and statues of the Archaic Acropolis Gallery. The lingering heat left over from a scorching day hits us as we walk out of the air-conditioned museum and onto the glass floor of the atrium. Above, the museum’s second floor juts out from the building.
And below, beneath our feet, lies thousands of years of history.
“Wow.”
I glance at Tessa out of the corner of my eye as she stares down at the mosaic tiles of an ancient floor. Her eyes are round with wonder, her lips curving up as she takes it all in. Farther ahead, an opening in the floor gives a stunning view of the ruins of homes and workshops just beneath the museum.
“Thank you, Rafe.”
I give her a slight smile. “You’re welcome.”
I glance around, but we’re alone on the atrium’s bridge. The music is faint but still audible.
“I’m not sure what to do.” She glances down at her crutches. “I thought about taking dance lessons, but I haven’t found the time yet.”
“Is there anything you haven’t planned on doing?”
“No,” she says with a laugh. “It’s like the whole world is opened to me. I want to do it all.”
Moonlight makes her hair glow and her smile radiant. For once, I don’t want the comfort of that emotionless void, the knowledge that will guide my choices and actions. No, I want an ounce of Tessa’s excitement, her zest for life, her drive to push past everything that has held her back and succeed.
Yes, the potential for her to fall, to suffer, is far greater. But seeing her now, like this, I also get a glimpse of the rewards that life is bestowing upon her. Rewards I have never experienced.
“Can you maneuver at all without the crunches?”
She shakes her head. “I can support some weight. But I need something to brace on.”
“What about me?”
I can almost feel her inhale, blood starting to pump harder through my veins at the side of her eyes darkening.
“That might work. Just don’t drop me.”
“I won’t.”
I let her come to me, let her set the pace of what she’s comfortable with. I know the amount of trust she’s placing in me. And try not to let it affect me too much.
When she’s right in front of me, I wrap an arm around her waist, wait for her to slide her arms out of the crutches and lean them against a nearby wall. I hold out one hand, my body tightening as her fingers slide across my palm. Her other hand slides up my chest and presses against my shoulder.
“May I have this dance?”
She smiles up at me.
“Yes.”
I sway back and forth, gently at first, letting us both get used to the motion of our unique dancing. Her feet graze the floor as I slowly turn.
“As much as I want to, dancing for the first time in front of a room full of people I don’t know is a little much for me.”
I detest the idea of dancing. But I loathe the idea of her sitting on the sidelines even more.
“Follow me.”
We move to the elevator. I’ve spent countless hours here over the years. The elevator doors close, leaving me alone with my wife for a precious few seconds. Her scent, that same delicate blend of daisies and strawberries, teases me. I glance down at her and nearly give in to the urge to kiss her when she smiles up at me.
But I don’t. I’ve come too close to crossing the line already. I worried about Tessa not being able to keep herself emotionally removed during our affair. Yet the more I spend time with her, the more I taste her, the more I wonder how difficult it will be to let her go when the time comes.
I lead her through the pillars and statues of the Archaic Acropolis Gallery. The lingering heat left over from a scorching day hits us as we walk out of the air-conditioned museum and onto the glass floor of the atrium. Above, the museum’s second floor juts out from the building.
And below, beneath our feet, lies thousands of years of history.
“Wow.”
I glance at Tessa out of the corner of my eye as she stares down at the mosaic tiles of an ancient floor. Her eyes are round with wonder, her lips curving up as she takes it all in. Farther ahead, an opening in the floor gives a stunning view of the ruins of homes and workshops just beneath the museum.
“Thank you, Rafe.”
I give her a slight smile. “You’re welcome.”
I glance around, but we’re alone on the atrium’s bridge. The music is faint but still audible.
“I’m not sure what to do.” She glances down at her crutches. “I thought about taking dance lessons, but I haven’t found the time yet.”
“Is there anything you haven’t planned on doing?”
“No,” she says with a laugh. “It’s like the whole world is opened to me. I want to do it all.”
Moonlight makes her hair glow and her smile radiant. For once, I don’t want the comfort of that emotionless void, the knowledge that will guide my choices and actions. No, I want an ounce of Tessa’s excitement, her zest for life, her drive to push past everything that has held her back and succeed.
Yes, the potential for her to fall, to suffer, is far greater. But seeing her now, like this, I also get a glimpse of the rewards that life is bestowing upon her. Rewards I have never experienced.
“Can you maneuver at all without the crunches?”
She shakes her head. “I can support some weight. But I need something to brace on.”
“What about me?”
I can almost feel her inhale, blood starting to pump harder through my veins at the side of her eyes darkening.
“That might work. Just don’t drop me.”
“I won’t.”
I let her come to me, let her set the pace of what she’s comfortable with. I know the amount of trust she’s placing in me. And try not to let it affect me too much.
When she’s right in front of me, I wrap an arm around her waist, wait for her to slide her arms out of the crutches and lean them against a nearby wall. I hold out one hand, my body tightening as her fingers slide across my palm. Her other hand slides up my chest and presses against my shoulder.
“May I have this dance?”
She smiles up at me.
“Yes.”
I sway back and forth, gently at first, letting us both get used to the motion of our unique dancing. Her feet graze the floor as I slowly turn.
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