He reaches for his wallet, pulls out a condom, and sheaths himself. Then I guide him down, and he settles over me, pushing me into the hard floor.
He positions himself at my entrance, staring down into my eyes, and I see that he wants to savor this moment, he doesn’t ever want to forget it, and neither do I. Then he thrusts inside, and I’m catapulted up, I’m crying out, I’m spinning, I’m breaking again. It’s as if I never came down. Gavin loses his restraint, and everything, everything that he’s been holding in comes out, and he pushes in deep, harder and faster. Sweat runs down his back, over his brow, his muscles strain, and he pulls my hips around him and pistons harder, faster, he pushes in so deep that I can’t think, I can’t see, I can’t anything, except feel.
“I love you. I love you.” He’s repeating it with each thrust.
I let out a sob and break apart, shatter around him.
He gives one final thrust and then I feel him pulsing, losing himself in me. He wraps his arms around me, kisses my neck, my temple, my lips, rocks slowly and gently in me now that he’s spent and coming down from the wave. It’s rolling to shore, but neither of us wants it to end, not yet.
I bury my face into his shoulder, breathing in his scent. It’s different now, not the soap that he used back home, but an expensive cologne that smells like anise and autumn. I close my eyes tight and grip him as hard as I can, memorizing the feel of him inside me.
“I love you too,” I whisper.
At that, he stills, then slowly he pulls away.
Looking up, I see it in his eyes, so before he can say anything, I gather all the shattered pieces of my heart, and say, “So this is goodbye?”
He looks down at his hands, then back to me. “It felt real, didn’t it?”
I blink back the tears pressing at the back of my eyes. “It was real for me.”
He nods, a small shake of his head. “I meant to ask, who is their real father?”
My throat is tight and painful. “My husband. Bobby.”
Gavin looks at the wedding ring on my left hand. “What happened?”
“He died,” I manage to push past numb lips.
Gavin nods and lays a comforting hand on my arm. That small gesture is almost too much. I close my eyes and concentrate on the feel of his warm hand.
“Good luck, Jamie. Tell the kids goodbye. I won’t be coming back.”
He stands, slips on his clothes, and I do the same, blindly reaching for my shirt and overalls.
As he moves toward the door, I realize that this is it, this is the last time I’ll ever see him.
“Gavin, wait.”
He pauses, then turns, his blue eyes searching.
“I’m sorry. I’m more sorry than you can know, but I’d do it all again, over and over, because if I hadn’t I never would’ve known you. And even with all this regret, never knowing you is something I couldn’t bear.”
He doesn’t answer, he merely turns and walks out the door. Leaving me to clean up the rest of the broken glass.