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The harm was in thinking a simple breath mint and a hand wash would make it seem as if it never happened. I was no longer that good boy, playing by the rules. I had broken nearly every rule in the space of one afternoon. I could justify it all I wanted, by saying that my wife no longer communicated, that the intimacy was non-existent, that the marriage existed in name only. But the fact remained that I had broken the rules. I lay in bed awake, as my wife slept next to me. My mind turned over dozens of scenarios, dozens of “what if” possibilities, and they all kept coming back to one recurring image. I kept seeing her face. Her eyes closed as I brought my lips toward hers, with a strawberry in my mouth. I kept seeing our lips meeting, as if watching a slow-motion video of the event. Eventually I fell asleep, and the next morning I arose, I showered and shaved and dressed and went on my way, back to that small town, back to that office on the third floor. Back to her. I made a stop. You'll be two people who care about each other, sharing a time where your paths have overlapped, knowing that one day your paths are going to separate again, but that you will never truly lose each other no matter what happens." She slid her hand up and cupped Christine's face once more. "I'm not talking about sex without commitment, I'm talking about love without obligation. One day David and I will marry. Actually we'll probably do it twice: once because we can't stand waiting any longer, but then eventually we'll have to do the big wedding thing for the family; and on that day, I promise you, you will dance at my wedding and you will be happy." She leaned in and kissed Christine's cheek tenderly. "And the tears you cry will be tears of joy."I could see Christine leaning into her hand and into the kiss as the emotion Lizzy was seeing inside her flickering to the surface here and there. Then Lizzy pulled back, and Christine said, "You're insane. How can you calmly sit there and tell.
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