It was then that Albert turned to Izzy and leaned in close. His lips met hers with a tenderness that he had not shown anywhere but their bedroom. This was a kiss born not of passion but of understanding.
Izzy’s response was hesitant at first, as if unsure whether to trust the emotions that surged within her. But as the kiss deepened, a warmth spread through her. When they parted, they remained embraced.
In that embrace, Izzy found hope that they would be able to continue to have a relationship apart from the bedroom.
Later, Izzy walked alongside Albert toward their home. The blanket was folded under his arm and the picnic basket was in her hand.
“Albert,” she murmured, breaking the silence that had settled over them, “today... it felt like we were the only two people in the world.”
He glanced at her, the corners of his mouth lifting ever so slightly in a restrained smile. “In those hours, perhaps we were,” he replied.
“Next Sunday seems like a lifetime away,” she confessed, pausing on the top step and turning to face him.
“Time has a way of stretching thin when we yearn for something just out of reach,” Albert said.
“Today was...” Izzy struggled to find the words, her heart dancing between joy and sorrow. “It was magic, Albert. Pure magic.”
“Magic is a rare thing,” he responded. “We must cherish it while we can.”
“I always cherish it,” she said softly. Deep down, she knew they were about to go back to the way things had been. He would be warm only in the night, and she would continue to do things the way he wanted.
But she found that in their day together, her dream had changed. Now she wanted to live a full life with him and pen her stories. Before, she’d wanted to pen her stories and forget him. She wasn’t sure if she was falling for him, but she had a feeling that she was. And it frightened her.
