Her eyes were raw and red as if she’d been crying for hours but there had been no tears even five minutes before.
“Just… give me a second.”
She gathered herself, mostly through blinking and staring at the floor again. When she started to speak again I realized she was still holding my hand.
“I’m filled with dread.”
“You don’t seem like yourself.”
I found this to be pretty rich considering she didn’t know me at all. Fortunately, I knew how to make it go away. I leaned in and kissed her gently on the forehead.
“You don’t have anything to worry about.”
As I lied to her, I momentarily saw myself as a villain in an over-written movie beloved by people who wear shirts with Che Guevara screenprinted across the front. I went to leave again but now her hand squeezed mine and pulled me toward her. She was crying again and now I didn’t know what to do. It occurred to me that I should say something but her lips were on mine before I could speak.
Her entire body was radiating heat and I could feel her trembling against me. I realized my hands were on her face when I felt a tear hit the edge of my thumb as it rolled down her cheek and slipped between our lips. It was a strange sensation that broke the spell of the moment.