She found herself kissing him back with equal ferocity. As their kisses became even more urgent, she found herself climbing on top of him, as they continued kissing, their lips and tongues becoming familiar, once more. It was when she realized his hands were going up her dress and caressing the sides of her thighs and reaching to touch her there that she finally caught herself. She rolled off him and said, "Oh, hell! What am I doing?" She got up from the bed, immediately. He sat up, too, with the most pained eyes.
"I am sorry," he said. "I don't know what got into me." She gave him a sympathetic look. "Don't be sorry, Owen. It was my fault, too. I was into it as much as you."
They both sighed, simultaneously. She continued, "Don't get me wrong. I would have done this. I really would but then I realized that it would have just turned out to be a one-night stand and I don't want to be your one-night stand." He knew where she was coming from. As much as he could still feel pain about her abortion, he knew that his one-night stand with the nameless girl from the bar, had wounded her, deeply.
Cristina started pacing as she talked. "You are an engaged man and me sleeping with you, would make me the other woman. I refuse to be the other woman."
"I understand," he said, quietly. Her refusal still hurt but he understood. With a fiancee back in Seattle, he really could not push it, even though he wanted her so. His feelings for her were still there, he knew.
"I think I should be leaving. Jonas is probably wondering where I am," she said, as she sat down at the desk, to put back on her stilettos. He couldn't believe that this was going to be the end. That she was going to walk out of her hotel room and they would go back as they were before the reunion. He could not end it like this.
"Cristina," he said, softly. She looked up. "Yes."
"Um, I was wondering if I could call you, when I get back to Seattle," he asked. "I would like to be able to keep in touch."
He saw the hesitation and doubt flicker across her face. She paused before she answered. "Okay," she said, simply. He breathed a sigh of relief. "What's your number?" he asked. She gave it to him and watched as he put it into his phone.
"What about your number?" she asked. "Do you need to give that to me?"
"No," he said. "My number has remained the same, all of these years. I can give it to you, if you have forgotten it."
"No," she said. "I know your number. It is on my phone, already. I just never used it." She stood up and came forward to give him a kiss on the cheek. "Take care of yourself, Owen."
"You, too," he said, as he took her hand and gave it a kiss. "Goodbye."
"Goodbye," she replied, as she turned and left the room. He fell back on his bed, dazed and confused.
Cristina made it back to the ballroom and found Jonas, chatting with some of his former classmates. She went and tapped him on the shoulder. "Hey, Jonas," she said.
He turned around and led her away from the group. "Hey, stranger. Where did you disappear to?" he grinned at her, since he already knew where she had gone.
"Owen and I went off somewhere quiet to catch up on our lives," she said. "And how was that?" he asked.
"Interesting," she said. That was all she was willing to say.
"I bet," Jonas said. "The chemistry between the two of you is so obvious. I could feel the sexual tension oozing from your pores. When you were together in front of me, it was like I wasn't even there. It was just the two of you in the room."
"Well, we did share a great love. I loved him more than any other man in my life. He is my weakness," she admitted. "But it doesn't matter anymore. He is getting married." Jonas made an audible gasp.
"Yes, Jonas," she continued. "He is engaged and getting married in three months." Jonas whistled. "Well, maybe it is a good thing that he is going back to Seattle," he replied.
"Yeah, a good thing. Jonas, can we go home now? Have you seen enough of your old pals? I am getting tired and feeling emotionally drained," she said.
"Sure," Jonas said, as he gave her his arm and went to get their coats, before they headed out to the hotel parking lot.
Back in his hotel room, Owen sadly changed out of his suit and put on his pajamas. He picked up his phone and stared at Cristina's number. He wondered if he would ever use it. He jumped when the phone suddenly rang. It was Vanessa. He answered. "Hey, Vanessa," he said.
"Owen, how is your reunion going?" she asked. "Did you catch up with your old friends?"
"Some," he said. The guilt was killing him as he spoke, so he tried to sound cheery and light. "So did you deal go through?"
"Yes," she said. "It is a good thing I stayed. So you will be back in the morning?"
"Yes," he said. "Taking the 6.30 a.m. flight back to Seattle."
"Good," she replied, sweetly. "There is something important I need to talk to you about."
"What?" he asked. He was getting a little apprehensive as he recognized that saccharine tone in her voice. She always used it when she was going to do or say something that he was not going to particularly like.
"Don't get so defensive, Owen," she said. "It is about our living arrangements after we get married."
"Oh," he said. "Okay." He greatly suspected that she was going to suggest that he sell the firehouse and he could see the logic of it. But it was not going to be that easy. Cristina had bought the firehouse for him because he had loved it and she had loved him. It was still a symbol of the love that they had for one another.
Vanessa said, "Well, I better let you get some sleep so you would be able to make your early flight in the morning. Goodbye."
"Bye," Owen said, before he hung up. His mind was all in a muddle, right now. Here he was, marrying Vanessa, this lovely, kind woman, who was a fabulous homemaker and mother. Then, his whole life gets disrupted, when the love of his life steps back into it, looking like a dream come true, in her red dress. That beautiful, infuriating, aggravating woman with the porcelain face and the darkest curls, who invaded his dreams and his senses. He closed his eyes and realized he could still smell her perfume on his sheets. He opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. "Damn you, Cristina. How could you walk back into my life now?"
The next morning found Cristina at her office, going through the folders of her three prospective sperm donors. It was a hard task but she eventually chose one. Subconsciously, she had chosen a man who had Owen's blonde coloring, blue eyes and height. She called her doctor and told him which of the three she had chosen. "Oh, good, Dr. Yang, we can finally get this ball rolling. Hoping we can get you pregnant as soon as possible." His previous tests had shown that she did not have ovulation problems and had a regular cycle. This, he said, was a very good sign. She knew exactly when she was ovulating and they made an appointment for her to come into his clinic.
Owen arrived back at the firehouse, the next morning. He went straight to the firehouse, instead of passing at Vanessa's house, first, as he usually did. Somehow, he just didn't feel like it. He opened his carry-on luggage and tossed his dirty clothes into the laundry basket. He put his suit in a bag to be taken to the dry cleaners. His phone rang. He knew it had to be Vanessa. "Owen," he heard her say. "Are you back in Seattle?"
"Yes," he said. "I got the taxi to take me straight to the firehouse."
"Oh, I have breakfast waiting for you," she said. "I wanted to talk to you."
"Well, I grabbed a sandwich at the airport so I am not hungry. Besides, I am heading into the hospital to check up on what I missed when I was gone, yesterday," he said.
"Alright, Owen," she said. "I guess you can come by for dinner and we can talk about it, then. The kids will be here for dinner but then, they are all off to do their own things, afterwards, so we do have a place for ourselves. Hint, hint." She laughed. Owen didn't join in the laughter so he just said. "Sure, I will be there around 6. Is that okay?"
"Fine," Vanessa said. "I will see you then." Owen hung up his phone, changed into a pale blue shirt, dark pants and a striped tie. He tried to busy himself at the hospital with the paperwork and meetings. He missed the grind of the emergency room, a lot, when he was drowning in paperwork. Sometimes, he would go down in the pit and get involved but those times were getting fewer and fewer.
He wrapped up his day and headed to Vanessa's house. He used his key to get in the house. "Hello," he said. "I am here." Vanessa came out from the kitchen, while Owen observed her three teenagers sprawled across the furniture in the living room. Vanessa had chestnut brown hair with brown eyes to match. She was a conventionally pretty woman, which proved to be an asset in her realty business.
"Hello, Owen," she said. She gave him a light kiss on the lips. The kids acknowledged his presence by waving or saying, "Hey, Owen."
"Dinner is ready," Vanessa said, as she took off her apron. "Come on, kids." Everyone headed to the dining room for dinner. It was a pleasant dinner. The kids talked about their day, while Vanessa discussed her big deal. After dinner, as Vanessa had said, the kids all disappeared out of the house to hang out with their friends. Vanessa handed Owen a cup of coffee and they headed to the living room.
"Well, Vanessa, you wanted to discuss something," he started.
"Yes," Vanessa started, uneasily. She knew that Owen was very attached to the firehouse but he never explained why that was so. "I think you should sell the firehouse and you could move in here, when we get married. I mean the kids are well settled here, already."
Owen's stomach churned at the thought of selling the firehouse. He had already had an inkling that Vanessa wanted to sell the firehouse. "We could get a good deal for it," Vanessa said. "A couple of million dollars, downtown location plus you had refurbished it so well. A hip, young couple would just love it, there."
Owen was silent. Vanessa knew he was not taking this well. He put down his half-empty coffee cup. He knew that what she was saying was true but it didn't make it any less hard.
"Vanessa, I will think about it," he said. "I am going back to the firehouse, now." He got up to leave.
"Well, um. I was wondering whether you would want to stay the night," she asked. He looked at her, feeling a little ashamed. Less than 24 hours before, he had been kissing another woman. Not just any woman, but his ex-wife, the love of his life. It was so wrong but somehow, it also felt right.
"Just feeling a little tired from all of that traveling in such a short space of time," he said.
"Okay, are you mad, Owen? About me asking to sell the firehouse," she said.
"No, no. I am not mad. I am just tired. I will think about it, though," he said. He wished he could tell her what he had happened and what he was feeling but he didn't want to hurt her. He gave her a kiss and quietly left.
When he got home, he took a shower and lay naked on his bed. He closed his eyes and remembered Cristina kissing him, the night before. It was as if he could still feel and taste her. He found himself hardening at the thought of her. He was glad he was alone because of his body's fierce reaction.
His phone rang. It must be Vanessa, he thought. He answered without looking at the screen. "Hello," he said.
"Hey, it's me," the voice said. It was not Vanessa.
"Cristina," he whispered her name.
A/N Please leave your comments. Thanks for leaving your thoughts. I do appreciate it.