The Last Kiss

Prologue

"Miriam, look at me." He scooped my chin in his large palm and lifted my face to his. "I love you." He choked on the words.

"Promise me." I pleaded earnestly, tears rolling down my dark cheeks.

"I promise, Miriam." His voice cracked. He folded me in his arms one last time. I tried to memorize everything about him. His masculine scent, the feel of his broad arms under my scrutinizing hands, the rumble in his chest when he spoke, and even the passionate gaze on his beloved face. His eyes changed from a deep sadness to sudden desire. He rested his forehead against mine, his hot breath mingling with my own. His eyes lowered to my lips, searching every inch of them. Finally, his head dipped slightly, and I closed my eyes in avid anticipation.

But he moved away completely! Disappointment wriggled through my belly as I watched him abruptly turn his back on me. He strode to the window to retrieve his bag lying on the chair nearby. I watched his every step, memorizing his distinguishing gait, as I desperately held back the emminent tears.

His bag in hand, he neared the door, only stopping long enough to look back at me one last time. Despair and deep regret marred his handsome features, but I could see his desire warred every step of the way. The silence lingered, his hesitation still clearly evident. Desperately, I wished for him to turn back, to sweep me up in his broad arms, and just kiss me senseless. But, alas, that was not to be. Finally, his eyes silver with unshed tears, he turned on his heel, latching the door quickly behind him.

Empty silence filled the room. Silence brimming with all-consuming emptiness. Blankly, I stared at the door for a brief moment. Then stumbled towards it, tears blinding my vision. Just outside, I glimpsed his broad, retreating back.

"Roy!" I choked on the tears welling in my throat.

He spun. Seeing me there, he dropped his bag where he stood, his face a myriad of emotions. He scaled the small distance between us, tenderly scooping me in his arms, and gazing down into my tearful eyes. I watched the conflicting emotions roll through those beautiful brown eyes of his.

My brain had no chance to react. He swooped in. His head lowered, and his lips gently, barely brushed mine. Instinct immediately took the wheel. My belly quivered, and I closed my eyes, anticipating, hoping, praying for more. And it came. That gentle brush grew and grew, its intensity deeper by the second. My head swam, my thoughts muddled, and my stomach churned and quivered. I floated among clouds, rolling in complete, perfect bliss. All I knew was his lips on mine. I reveled in the taste of him. Salty, yet distinctly sweet, passionate with a dash of fear in the mix, but delicious, oh so perfectly delicious.

The pressure gradually lessened, and I now tasted fear. The bitter, harsh taste of the unknown. All too soon he pulled his lips from mine. My lips now felt bare and cold, yearning for the delicious warmth of their partner. I felt alone, torn...lost. His head just inches from mine, a desperate groan escaped his lips, matching an equally disappointed one from me; both of us knew this heavenly experience had to come to an end.

"I must go, Miriam." He whispered, deep sadness filling his brown depths once more.

"I know," I faintly breathed, leaning my forehead against his. The tears continued to stream down my cheeks, puddling on his large hands as they tenderly held my face.

His gaze fell to my lips once more, as if he wished to taste of their nectar again and never let go. Mine yearned in agreement. They throbbed from his previous touch. He groaned deeply once more, desperately trying to contain his yearnings. Painfully, he tore his loving gaze from my lips, and his eyes scanned my face once more, as his brow wrinkled in pain.

"Goodbye, Miriam." His voice cracked from the emotion. The finality of the statement sent dread marching down my spine.

He released me. My body felt ripped in two; as if someone had torn my other half completely from me. And he had. Rory carried my heart with him as he strode toward the door.

I watched his retreating back once more. His shoulders slumped and gait heavy. He reached for his bag once more, and followed the waiting man.

Sinking to the floor, I remained there, huddled in a weeping ball. I watched his back slowly, painfully disappear from sight, knowing full well I might never see him again. Large, heavy tears streamed down my rosy cheeks as I thought of Rory. I tenderly touched my throbbing lips, still warm from the pressure of his touch.

It was our first kiss.

And our last.