Chapter 9
The hot shower spray beat down on Jack's face and neck, helping to clear the cobwebs from his mind. As the mists faded, he gradually pieced back together the memories of what had happened. Of her tenderness, as she had held him. Of her empathy as he had poured out his story. Of her strength as he lay exhausted in her arms.
And as the healing water poured over him, he remembered the rest. Of turning to her as she held him safe (had he called her Laura, he winced?). Of her initial hesitation, then passionate response. Of his release. He flushed - the memories were again quite vivid.
What had she said? He had needed a friend last night, and she had done the best she could. A master of understatement, he thought to himself. He knew, intuitively, that there was no one who could have helped him last night as Irina had. No one who would have reached him in his pain, and understood so deeply.
Her motives were a mystery to him. If she had wanted to gain an edge, surely she would have reminded him of his weakness this morning. Surely she would not have exposed her own vulnerability so openly. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath as her story came flooding back. It sickened him to think that she had been tortured the same way. It occurred to him with a jolt that her life over the past 20 years had not been a bed of roses either. In many ways, he had more in common with this woman than he had had with Laura.
He pondered his options as he finished his shower. He could pretend he still didn't remember what had happened last night. Irina clearly wasn't going to volunteer any information. No risks, no complications - they could continue on as before. The safe route, his brain told him. The act of a cad, a small voice in the back of his head responded.
He could acknowledge what she had done, and thank her for it. As one professional to another, maintaining their working relationship but at an appropriate distance. The mature route, his brain told him. Is that what you really want? the small voice responded.
There was another option, he thought, as he stepped out of the shower. They had both lowered their barriers last night. Perhaps they didn't need to go all the way back up. Perhaps there was something other than their past to found a relationship on. Perhaps they could be - friends. Danger! Complications! shouted his brain. About time, said the small voice. He smiled.
The hot shower spray beat down on Jack's face and neck, helping to clear the cobwebs from his mind. As the mists faded, he gradually pieced back together the memories of what had happened. Of her tenderness, as she had held him. Of her empathy as he had poured out his story. Of her strength as he lay exhausted in her arms.
And as the healing water poured over him, he remembered the rest. Of turning to her as she held him safe (had he called her Laura, he winced?). Of her initial hesitation, then passionate response. Of his release. He flushed - the memories were again quite vivid.
What had she said? He had needed a friend last night, and she had done the best she could. A master of understatement, he thought to himself. He knew, intuitively, that there was no one who could have helped him last night as Irina had. No one who would have reached him in his pain, and understood so deeply.
Her motives were a mystery to him. If she had wanted to gain an edge, surely she would have reminded him of his weakness this morning. Surely she would not have exposed her own vulnerability so openly. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath as her story came flooding back. It sickened him to think that she had been tortured the same way. It occurred to him with a jolt that her life over the past 20 years had not been a bed of roses either. In many ways, he had more in common with this woman than he had had with Laura.
He pondered his options as he finished his shower. He could pretend he still didn't remember what had happened last night. Irina clearly wasn't going to volunteer any information. No risks, no complications - they could continue on as before. The safe route, his brain told him. The act of a cad, a small voice in the back of his head responded.
He could acknowledge what she had done, and thank her for it. As one professional to another, maintaining their working relationship but at an appropriate distance. The mature route, his brain told him. Is that what you really want? the small voice responded.
There was another option, he thought, as he stepped out of the shower. They had both lowered their barriers last night. Perhaps they didn't need to go all the way back up. Perhaps there was something other than their past to found a relationship on. Perhaps they could be - friends. Danger! Complications! shouted his brain. About time, said the small voice. He smiled.