I’m glad you came.
The words echo in Sara’s head, Michael’s face flashing behind her eyes. She knows she should leave; knows she should get away from everything before it all blows up in their faces, and yet…
She looks in the direction of the bathroom, listens to the running water of the shower. She doesn’t want to go, doesn’t want to leave Michael. Doesn’t want to be away from him anymore. It would be easy to leave; easy to get up and drive away. To stay out of trouble and never look back.
But she’s never been good at easy.
So she stays.
The look Michael gives her when he emerges from the bathroom, the relieved grin -- like he hadn’t really expected her to be there but is glad she is -- it vanishes any doubts she’d had. She knows this is the right decision, knows that this is where she wants to be.
He walks to her slowly, and she meets him half way. Lets him wrap her in his arms, his long fingers stroking the length of her hair. Lets him kiss her; soft, sweet, open mouthed kisses -- so gentle she can barely feel them. She shuts her eyes, lets herself drift, to enjoy the bliss of his company.
There’s no talking, no verbal communication. There’s only the feel of his body, the touch of his lips. Only hesitant, tentative movements. Ones which give her the opportunity to back out of it if she wants, that allow her to set the place.
The mattress is rough beneath them, but Sara doesn’t care. She only cares about Michael -- about his rough breathing, about his warm, damp skin. About the feel if his fingers on her, the slide of his lips against hers. Everything is so natural, so right. Like it’s how things were meant to be.
And when he touches her, it isn't just a brush of skin against skin. It's the truth to every lie he's ever told her, it's all the words he's been too afraid to say out loud; translated into a language only the two of them will share, meant for her understanding only.
It’s everything she’s ever wanted and more.
She’s glad she stayed.