19 July 1997
It had been raining the night before and the smell of petrichor clung tenaciously to the crisp summer air. Kevin stood out on the sun-drenched balcony of his Atlanta home, sipping his glass of juice intermittently and reading the morning paper.
He'd gotten the ultra-modern home three years prior after his divorce had been settled and to be closer to her. He didn't use it much, as his work often called for him to be everywhere else, but on the odd occasion that she called him, they'd meet up at the home that soon became the centre of their lives together. She'd called him yesterday and appeared on his doorstep with two suitcases, drenched from the downpour and eyes puffy with her left cheek bandaged. Regardless of the circumstances she still looked magnificently beautiful in a flopping hat, a black polo neck and jeans. No words were spoken, she smiled weakly and then wrapped her arms around him and broke out into a bundle of tears.
He lit a fire and draped a quilt over her shoulders, wrapping her in his embrace. He didn't ask all the necessary questions; he simply allowed her to weep into his shoulder, and later watch as her chest rise and fall as She slept quietly on his lap.
The old grandfather clock behind them struck twelve, awakening Kevin from his rigid slumber, he stretched and looked down at her still fast asleep. His fingers grazed her forehead, moving her hair from her face. In one swift, gentle movement he moved from beneath her, stretching his limbs before picking her up and carrying her to bed.
He sighed, then froze as she turned and reached for him, wrapping her arms involuntarily around his waist, leaning her head on his chest.
Their lives were intertwined by a movie. She was his leading lady and for a while things were completely platonic, but like he'd go on to say in numerous interviews thereafter, it was easy to fall in love with her. He kept his feelings at bay, taking short glances of her and averting his eyes when she caught him. Trying his best not to seem like a lovesick puppy when speaking about her in interviews, even if that was exactly what he was. But when everything came to a standpoint one night and he kissed her, and felt her kiss him back with the same amount of passion and lust, he regretted nothing and reveled in the feeling of her soft lips on his. Her fingers dragging down the length of his back as he hovered above her. But, like most good things, their romance came to a sudden halt when production ended and they each went back to their own lives. She got married that Summer, and he half-heartedly tried to patch up his own marriage. They'd see each other often thereafter; at charity events, parties, those types of things. Their relationship only rekindled a month after his divorce when she too was going through some marital issues and had left her spouse for approximately two months before heading back to her daughter. That's how she'd put it...she was heading back to her daughter. He'd bought the house not too soon after, giving her a set of her own keys so she'd have some place to head to when things got too much for her.
Kevin turned and saw her standing at the glass door, he beamed. She walked over to him and leaned against the railing of the balcony, her eyes closed, her face raised to the sky taking in the warmth of the morning sun on her skin. She exhaled. Kevin moved to the deck chairs and took a seat, waiting for her to join him. She kissed his cheek and took a seat across from him, taking a sip of his orange juice and then cringed at the taste.
"Since when are you a morning drinker. God, what is that, vodka ?"
Kevin simply smiled, amused at her reaction. "How'd you sleep?"
She shifted and crossed her legs."Well thank you."
Kevin folded his paper and put it down on the table."About last night-" he began.
"I'm starved, is there anything to eat?" she questioned, trying to divert the conversation.
"What happened?" persisted Kevin.
