“You didn’t force me to do anything.” He looked at her, his dark eyes grave. “Do you regret it? Do you hate me for forcing you to give up your memories of Clara?”Ī corner of his mouth tipped up. She opened her eyes, twisting to face him. You did come,” he said simply, a statement of fact. “I think had you not come into my life I would’ve stayed a celibate hermit. “Yes, it was very real.” She felt the press of his hands on her shoulders. “How … how can you reconcile it, though? The love you felt? It was real, wasn’t it? Strong and true?” She inhaled, her heart beating wildly, not entirely sure she wanted to hear this. I’ve learned, I think, in these last weeks, to set aside what I felt for her so that I can feel something else with you.” “I loved Clara deeply and I will never forget her, but she’s gone. “No.” She felt him come nearer, standing near enough that the warmth from his body reached out to her. “Do you feel guilty when you make love to me?” The question was too personal, too intimate, but she waited, breath held, for his answer. She looked away, concentrating as she carefully folded the letter and placed it with the others.
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