'The Pull of Summer' by Gabrielle Hunter
Oh, it was just a horrible temptation. If I could have a kiss, I’d take it willingly. I watch his lips part and wonder at their softness. I imagine them pressed against my own. The image fades and I store it forever in my heart. I will take it out another time, when the real thing isn’t here to ruin it with words – words that I never want to hear. I think he’d be perfect if he just didn’t speak. I would still love him. Lips aren’t just designed for talking, after all. They have much better methods of communication.
He’s coming back now and his wife waves in greeting. He sits beside her on the brightly coloured towel. He lowers the ice cream for her to taste.
Subconsciously, I lick my lips. But I am always denied.
His wife smiles up at him. Together they share the ice cream, sitting on the beach. He bends his head to kiss her and my breath catches. As his lips brush her cheek, his eyes meet mine.
We look at each other and I’ve forgot how to breathe. His arm is still around his wife but his eyes are on me. Time seems outside of this moment, rushing past, but we had been pulled together like survivors in the eye of a storm.
There is the sound of laughter and his gaze tears away.
I feel tears prickling my eyes as I take one last look.
The ice cream has melted.