She’d imagined it numerous times. At one end of the scale, his wife would overhear them having sex in the dressing room, would slam doors, scream and shout about betrayal, perhaps even throw divorce papers at his chest. Sometimes she thought it would be less dramatic. He would come over one day, suitcases in hand, asking for a place to stay. She’d say, “You always have a place with me.” And that would be it.
You’re not even touching him but you can feel his presence in the bed and it’s comforting and reassuring...
She lay unmoving on the bed, quiet and still, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to join her or leave her in peace...
She could hear the rain falling lightly outside her hotel room and shifted closer to her lover’s body under the comforter, curling up against his side and resting a hand on his bare chest, running his fingertips through the graying hair there...
She can remember the time when she thought that being with Lindsey again after all this time would be the most frightening, disconcerting, unstable, unsafe thing imaginable for her...
If apathy was too much to ask for, she’d ask for ambivalence...
She sat cross-legged on the bed, watching with a bemused expression on her face as Lindsey started unpacking his suitcase...
It wasn’t the first time. But it was the first time in a long time...
She sighed and settled on the floor, sitting cross-legged and comfortable. Lindsey was a few feet away, talking to one of his roadies and she caught his eye for a moment, giving him a quick smile...
She sat cross-legged on the large bed, comfortable looking multicolored cushions placed haphazardly around her...
As soon as he opened the door he knew it was a mistake to have come here straight away. He ought to have gone and calmed down somewhere, stricken the images from his mind, erased the hopes from his heart…
He’d been absorbed in his guitar before she’d come over and introduced herself...
He didn’t know what had woken him up...
He was unfairly cute, his darling curls just begging to be messed up even further. Unfortunately, he had someone to do that for him already...
They were still for a long time afterwards. Stevie lay half underneath him, Lindsey’s quiet, deep breaths the only reality intruding on what was almost a perfect mirror image of a dream she was ashamed to admit she’d had not that long ago...
He was uncomfortable and she could see it. Every twitch, every fidget, every little glance towards the door all highlighted the fact that he couldn’t wait to be gone...
She very rarely felt weak - in mind or spirit, at least. However, as she curled up against his body, his arm coming to rest protectively around her, she could admit that she always felt stronger when he was beside her...
It always begins with the tangle of his fingers in her hair...
Sometimes she caught herself thinking about what life would be like in twenty years time...
Her place was (or, at least, ought to be) next to him, holding his hand, but instead she was sitting next to his eldest daughter, simultaneously trying to comfort her and draw comfort from her...