Dancing with Time

Cassanova

"I loved women the way I loved books. Ravenously, as fast and as many as I could lay my hands on. Reading indiscriminately in every genre and savoring my favorites to read again. Slowly," ― G.L. Morrison, Chiaroscuro Kisses

"Lucas," Juliet spat his name, exasperation lacing her voice like bitter lemon. "We are finished. There's nothing left to salvage, no embers to rekindle. I don't want you anywhere near my life anymore!" She squeezed her eyes shut, pressing the heels of her palms into her temples to ward off a throbbing headache.

"Why not? Is that creep still harassing you? We can fix that! Call the cops, put him behind bars! Problem solved!" Lucas boomed, his voice a stormy torrent. Juliet winced, picturing his face contorting into a mask of rage. "It'll just be you and me, babe!" he wheedled, his voice dropping to a desperate near-plea.

"I can forgive you for that night, but there never be an us ever again!" Juliet countered, her voice firm, steely with a newfound resolve – a resolve forged in the fires of Keith's unwavering support. "I chose Keith. He's my husband, the man I want by my side for every sunrise and every sunset to come. Please try to understand." Her tone softened, a touch of weary empathy gracing her words.

"Fine!" Lucas snapped, the harsh finality in his tone a dark promise of a conversation far from over. Juliet sighed, a long, weary exhale that ruffled the loose strands of hair framing her face. A single, gnawing question echoed in the quiet aftermath of the call: Did I ever truly love him? Perhaps it was just a fleeting infatuation, a youthful fancy. One thing was certain now – her heart belonged to Keith, a love so fierce and undeniable it eclipsed any past feelings. There was no way she could walk away from him, not for Lucas, not for anyone.

"Goodbye, Lucas," Juliet said with finality, hanging up the phone. The clock on the living room wall mocked her with the early hour – only 11 am. Plenty of time for a swim, she decided. Grabbing a soft, seafoam green shawl, she wrapped it around her waist and walked out of the cozy cottage, the familiar scent of salt and brine guiding her footsteps towards the welcoming embrace of the beach.

Sun-kissed and salty after a long afternoon at the beach, Juliet returned to the cozy cottage, craving the warmth of a shower. Her jean shorts clung lightly to her tanned legs, and a white tank top, catching the last rays of sunlight through the window, revealed a hint of her golden shoulders. A blue floral cardigan, draped loosely over her arms, added a touch of summer whimsy.

Letting her damp hair cascade down her back, the way Keith loved it, she slipped on a pair of white flats. A knock on the door startled her from her post-beach reverie.

Juliet grabbed her white purse, the worn leather cool against her fingers, and slung it casually over her shoulder. Pulling open the door, she was met by a vision in white - a blonde woman with a crisp button-down shirt that mirrored the summer sky and a short black skirt that hugged her curves.

"Hi, I'm Linda!" the blonde chirped, a bright smile revealing a set of perfectly white teeth. "I have your lunch, Ms. Carlton." She held up a white to-go container, the aroma of saimin wafting through the air.

"Thank you, Linda," Juliet replied, her smile strained. "I can probably eat this on the way to the mall." She reached out to take the container, stepping out of the doorway to give Linda more space.

"Sure thing," Linda replied, her smile faltering slightly. As they settled into the car, she spoke again, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "It's so nice to finally meet Mr. Carlton's wife. No offense, but you seem way cooler than his last girlfriend."

Juliet's heart skipped a beat, a pang of jealousy twisting in her gut. She raised an eyebrow, her green eyes flashing with curiosity. "He brought her here? To the cottage?"