The lights dimmed and the title appeared in white text.Le sel des larmes.
Emily settled against me, her head on my shoulder, her hand finding mine in the darkness. I laced my fingers through hers and tried to focus on the screen.
The film was all muted colors and long shots of French countryside. The dialogue was sparse, heavy with subtext. The main character moved between different women, wanting all of them, unable to choose, slowly destroying everything.
Real fucking subtle.
Emily's thumb traced circles on the back of my hand. On screen, the main character kissed one of the women in a kitchen. It was all slow and intimate the way I wanted to kiss Alex.
Emily shifted closer, and her hand moved from mine to my thigh. She tilted her head up and kissed me.
Soft at first. Just lips. The way we'd kissed a thousand times before.
I kissed her back because that's what you do. Because we were on a date. Because we were trying.
She deepened it. Her hand moved higher on my thigh. Her tongue touched my lower lip and I opened my mouth, let her in.
Nothing.
No heat spreading through my chest. No pressure building low. No response where there should have been one.
Just guilt.
Emily's hand moved higher, confident now, expecting to find me… hard. Her palm pressed against my jeans and—
Nothing.
She hesitated. Her kiss faltered for half a second before she tried again, pressing harder, like maybe she could coax my body into cooperating.
It wouldn't.
My body knew what I was trying so hard to deny. Knew who I actually wanted and that less than a week ago I'd been with Alex and there had been no hesitation, no question, just pure want that I couldn't control.
Emily pulled back slightly. Breath warm against my mouth. "You okay?"
"Yeah." Automatic. "Just—tired from practice."
"We can stop if you want."
"No, it's fine. I'm just—" I swallowed. "Nervous. In public."
Even in the dark, I could see the hurt she tried to hide behind understanding.
"Okay," she said. "It's okay."
On screen, the main character was arguing with one of the women. French dialogue I couldn't follow, subtitles I wasn't reading.
Emily ate a gummy bear. Then another. And another. Not because she wanted them but because she needed something to do with her hands.
I stared at the screen without seeing it.
I care about her. I'm attracted to her. So why can't my body just fucking cooperate?
I knew why.
Because every time I closed my eyes, I could feel Alex's hands on me, hear the sounds he'd made, see the way he'd looked at me like I was everything.
Because Emily was safe and normal, and made sense.
