“Do you want to get out of here?” he said after they completed a lap of the room, without Bec showing any interest in the pieces. She nodded gratefully and he collected their jackets.
Geoffrey wanted to place his hand over hers as they lay quietly folded in her lap as he drove back to her unit. Any thoughts of romance and seduction were lost back in the gallery. Now he needed to help Bec move past her grief and bring a smile to her face again.
Bec clenched her knees together to stop them from trembling. What would Geoffrey thing of her – shaking for her dead love while on a date with him! Did he think her stupid for trying too soon to date again or callous for trying to move on.
It didn’t matter, she thought, a wonderful date with a man she wanted to get to know more of, now over – ruined. He wouldn’t try and kiss her again, and even if he did, how would she respond? While ever a simple question rendered her speechless and tearful, she could never think of opening her heart to anyone.
“Thank you for the evening, I’m sorry …” She didn’t invite Geoffrey inside, nor did he attempt to give her more than a hug. If he said anything in the car or before she left, it was a haze.
The following morning, she awoke to her pillow still wet from her tears, but feeling refreshed. A night of crying and looking through old photos of her married life had been therapeutic. She loved her husband and married him with the promise of “until death do we part.” There were no regrets about loving him, only sadness at losing him so young.
Finally, Bec felt it possible to put her memories back inside the box in her heart, and face her future. Hopefully with Geoffrey.