Her first instinct was to stay in his arms and never let him go. But then
reality set in.
'You're a married woman. You snuck out and you are with another man. You are betraying Lucky. But his arms feel so inviting, so right. But you're married; you cannot let yourself feel this. You cannot run to him for comfort. Don't you remember how you jeopardized your relationship with Lucky before?'
She pulled away, brushed her tears away, and let her eyes travel down his body. His familiar leather jacket, a fitted heather gray tee that clung to all the right places, jeans, and motorcycle boots.
'Oh God. Stop! You're married. You're married. You cannot look at him like that!'
Her eyes rested on his boots. She could not let herself look up at him and get caught in his gaze. She could feel his crystal blue eyes looking her over. She took joy in it, a little too much.
'You have to tell him, Elizabeth. You cannot lie to him. You need to tell him that you are married and that he is just going to have to stay away. He will have to stay away so you do not jeopardize your marriage. You do not want to get Lucky upset . . . TELL HIM.'
"What's wrong?" He asked.
'Why is he being so nice? You were horrible to him! Why is he here? Why is he offering to clean up your mess? Why is he being so wonderful when you need him to be horrible? He has a right to turn you away, be angry, and leave. You knew you had his heart and you took advantage of that by throwing it back in his face. Why is he being so . . . Jason? He should be angry. You have to tell him. You have to tell him the truth, Elizabeth! Don't lie to him, you've hurt him so much already.'
"Elizabeth?" He asked again, worried when she did not answer.
He took his hand and lifted her chin to look at him. She continued to look down afraid that if she looked into his glance she would be lost.
"What's is it? What's wrong?" He asked again, concerned more. Usually Elizabeth was never at a loss of words with him.
He tore his glance away from her only for a moment. He looked down at the canvas she had dropped on the floor. It was the painting 'The Wind'. His glance went back to her, her eyes still focused on his boots.
"What to go for a ride?" He asked hoping that the ride might help.
'A ride. He is offering you a ride. You can feel the wind rush against you; see the colors smear into a blur as you run away from your thoughts. You can just feel.'
Still looking down at his feet, "I want to Jason, but . . ."
"But nothing." He said, pulling her slowly out of her studio and towards his bike.
She hesitated but eventually let him. She knew that in her heart she really wanted to . . . it was her head that was putting up the fight.
The roar of the wind, the colors becoming a blur, the pure adrenaline was calming and soothing. It pushed all thoughts of her home life and what she would have to tell Jason out of her mind. Her eyes closed, her hands wrapped tightly around his waist, her mind blank . . . like in her dream. It was a feeling she hadn't felt in years and what she was too afraid to admit to herself was that she enjoyed every second of it.
But it had to come to a stop eventually.
Jason helped her off the bike and slipped the helmet off her head.
"I know something is bothering you, Elizabeth. I want you to know that nothing has changed, I still care about you and if you need anything I want you to come to me."
'Nothing has changed? Everything has changed. It has been almost five years! I'm married. I'm successful. I'm not happy. But Nikolas said that you have to make sacrifices in a marriage. Some sacrifices hurt more than others . . ."
"But I'm the one that needs a favor from you." He said, interrupting her thoughts.
Curious, she looked into his eyes.
"I need to use your studio if at all possible." He said. "Of course." She said, the words coming out before she thought them through.
'The last time he stayed you lied to Lucky. You lied. You abused his trust and he was kind enough to forgive you. But if you do it again . . .'
Her thoughts getting the best of her, she started twirling the ring on her finger nervously. She only realized it after the damage had been done.
Jason noticed and his heart sank.
'NO! NO! Elizabeth! You're stupid! Look what you just did! Look at his eyes! That same look from the park . . .'
"Jason . . . I'm . . ." She started to explain, the words getting caught in her throat.
"Lucky?" He asked, already knowing the answer.
She nodded.
"Then I don't want you to have to lie to Lucky. I'll find somewhere else." He said, turning to walk away.
"NO. Jason, wait!" She said, chasing after him and grabbing onto his coat.
He turned. The look in his eyes said it all. He was hurting inside.
"Take the studio. Consider it is yours. I never use it anymore. I can't . . ." She said, stopping before she let out the reason why.
But Jason could read her just like before and he knew.
He knew that every time she went to her studio she thought of him. Every moment they shared there was etched in her memory, and in her heart. She knew it was so wrong to hold on to these memories but until recently that was all she had left of him. But now he was here.
He was silent.
"If I can help you . . . let me." She said, laced with emotion.
"I don't want to cause any problems. . ." He started to reject her offer.
"I'll deal with Lucky. Just, please, use it." She pleaded.
"Okay." He said, coolly.
She looked down at her watch and saw the time.
"I have to go . . ." She said, not wanting to leave. Not wanting to leave him like this.
"Go." Was all he could mutter.
She started to walk away but she stopped. She turned to look back at him.
'Oh Jason, if only you knew. . .'
"I'm glad you are here." She said before she turned to walk home.
He watched her walk away. He small form fading until he could no longer see her. He considered following her to see where she lived but he did not. She had moved on. She choose Lucky. She picked him years ago.
But why was it so hard to let go of her?
She had changed, aged just as he had. Her hair was short still, her figure was the same, but her eyes . . . her light was gone. The light he use to see shine through her eyes, the light that lit up a room when she entered, the light that he had fallen in love with.
He could of sworn he saw it briefly when he came back into her life. He saw the longing behind her unshed tears. Was their still hope that they could rekindle what they lost?
But he pushed these thoughts away. He had to. She had chosen him, they were married, end of discussion.
'You're a married woman. You snuck out and you are with another man. You are betraying Lucky. But his arms feel so inviting, so right. But you're married; you cannot let yourself feel this. You cannot run to him for comfort. Don't you remember how you jeopardized your relationship with Lucky before?'
She pulled away, brushed her tears away, and let her eyes travel down his body. His familiar leather jacket, a fitted heather gray tee that clung to all the right places, jeans, and motorcycle boots.
'Oh God. Stop! You're married. You're married. You cannot look at him like that!'
Her eyes rested on his boots. She could not let herself look up at him and get caught in his gaze. She could feel his crystal blue eyes looking her over. She took joy in it, a little too much.
'You have to tell him, Elizabeth. You cannot lie to him. You need to tell him that you are married and that he is just going to have to stay away. He will have to stay away so you do not jeopardize your marriage. You do not want to get Lucky upset . . . TELL HIM.'
"What's wrong?" He asked.
'Why is he being so nice? You were horrible to him! Why is he here? Why is he offering to clean up your mess? Why is he being so wonderful when you need him to be horrible? He has a right to turn you away, be angry, and leave. You knew you had his heart and you took advantage of that by throwing it back in his face. Why is he being so . . . Jason? He should be angry. You have to tell him. You have to tell him the truth, Elizabeth! Don't lie to him, you've hurt him so much already.'
"Elizabeth?" He asked again, worried when she did not answer.
He took his hand and lifted her chin to look at him. She continued to look down afraid that if she looked into his glance she would be lost.
"What's is it? What's wrong?" He asked again, concerned more. Usually Elizabeth was never at a loss of words with him.
He tore his glance away from her only for a moment. He looked down at the canvas she had dropped on the floor. It was the painting 'The Wind'. His glance went back to her, her eyes still focused on his boots.
"What to go for a ride?" He asked hoping that the ride might help.
'A ride. He is offering you a ride. You can feel the wind rush against you; see the colors smear into a blur as you run away from your thoughts. You can just feel.'
Still looking down at his feet, "I want to Jason, but . . ."
"But nothing." He said, pulling her slowly out of her studio and towards his bike.
She hesitated but eventually let him. She knew that in her heart she really wanted to . . . it was her head that was putting up the fight.
The roar of the wind, the colors becoming a blur, the pure adrenaline was calming and soothing. It pushed all thoughts of her home life and what she would have to tell Jason out of her mind. Her eyes closed, her hands wrapped tightly around his waist, her mind blank . . . like in her dream. It was a feeling she hadn't felt in years and what she was too afraid to admit to herself was that she enjoyed every second of it.
But it had to come to a stop eventually.
Jason helped her off the bike and slipped the helmet off her head.
"I know something is bothering you, Elizabeth. I want you to know that nothing has changed, I still care about you and if you need anything I want you to come to me."
'Nothing has changed? Everything has changed. It has been almost five years! I'm married. I'm successful. I'm not happy. But Nikolas said that you have to make sacrifices in a marriage. Some sacrifices hurt more than others . . ."
"But I'm the one that needs a favor from you." He said, interrupting her thoughts.
Curious, she looked into his eyes.
"I need to use your studio if at all possible." He said. "Of course." She said, the words coming out before she thought them through.
'The last time he stayed you lied to Lucky. You lied. You abused his trust and he was kind enough to forgive you. But if you do it again . . .'
Her thoughts getting the best of her, she started twirling the ring on her finger nervously. She only realized it after the damage had been done.
Jason noticed and his heart sank.
'NO! NO! Elizabeth! You're stupid! Look what you just did! Look at his eyes! That same look from the park . . .'
"Jason . . . I'm . . ." She started to explain, the words getting caught in her throat.
"Lucky?" He asked, already knowing the answer.
She nodded.
"Then I don't want you to have to lie to Lucky. I'll find somewhere else." He said, turning to walk away.
"NO. Jason, wait!" She said, chasing after him and grabbing onto his coat.
He turned. The look in his eyes said it all. He was hurting inside.
"Take the studio. Consider it is yours. I never use it anymore. I can't . . ." She said, stopping before she let out the reason why.
But Jason could read her just like before and he knew.
He knew that every time she went to her studio she thought of him. Every moment they shared there was etched in her memory, and in her heart. She knew it was so wrong to hold on to these memories but until recently that was all she had left of him. But now he was here.
He was silent.
"If I can help you . . . let me." She said, laced with emotion.
"I don't want to cause any problems. . ." He started to reject her offer.
"I'll deal with Lucky. Just, please, use it." She pleaded.
"Okay." He said, coolly.
She looked down at her watch and saw the time.
"I have to go . . ." She said, not wanting to leave. Not wanting to leave him like this.
"Go." Was all he could mutter.
She started to walk away but she stopped. She turned to look back at him.
'Oh Jason, if only you knew. . .'
"I'm glad you are here." She said before she turned to walk home.
He watched her walk away. He small form fading until he could no longer see her. He considered following her to see where she lived but he did not. She had moved on. She choose Lucky. She picked him years ago.
But why was it so hard to let go of her?
She had changed, aged just as he had. Her hair was short still, her figure was the same, but her eyes . . . her light was gone. The light he use to see shine through her eyes, the light that lit up a room when she entered, the light that he had fallen in love with.
He could of sworn he saw it briefly when he came back into her life. He saw the longing behind her unshed tears. Was their still hope that they could rekindle what they lost?
But he pushed these thoughts away. He had to. She had chosen him, they were married, end of discussion.