Page 60 of The Only One Left

“In a wonderful way.”

I let him kiss me then. My first kiss. It was greater than I ever dreamed it could be. When his lips touched mine, it felt as if my entire existence was exploding like a firework. Bright and sparkling and white hot.

I pulled away, short of breath and blushing. For a moment, I thought I was going to faint. I swooned against the terrace railing, dizzy. I likely would have fallen over if Ricky hadn’t caught me in his arms and whispered, “When can I see you again?”

“Tomorrow night,” I whispered back, as if I were Juliet and he my Romeo, meeting at my balcony. “Right here.”

Two weeks had passed since then, and the two of us saw each other every night. We’d meet on the terrace and rush off somewhere we couldn’t be found. When we were together, the world melted away, turning everything to sheer bliss. When we were apart, he was all I thought about, dreamed about, cared about.

We kissed again the second night we met, this time without restraint. We were by the cottage, half hidden in shadow, telling each other our dreams and our disappointments. I told Ricky about wanting to flee to Paris, living like a bohemian, experiencing everything and then writing it down.

Ricky told me how, through tough times and hard luck, he came to work here. “My family is piss-poor,” he said, using a term that both shocked and thrilled me with its crudeness. “My mother died when she had me. My father’s a mean drunk who’d rather beat me than work. I learned right fast that school was useless. Money beats knowledge every single time. Since I’m good with my hands, I came here.”

He sighed and looked up at the sky. “I want more than this, I can tell you that. It’s crushing, not having the life you’re meant to live. It weighs a man down.”

I tried to alleviate that weight the only way I knew how, by letting Ricky wrap his thick arms around my waist, pull me close, and kiss me as passionately as he wanted.

We were still kissing when I heard the whisper of footfalls in the grass. It was Berniece, returning home from her duties in the kitchen. I broke away and fled before we could be caught. But that close call didn’t change anything. I knew that what Ricky and I were doing was wrong, but I didn’t care. I longed for the fireworks his kiss created. I needed them.

We grew more daring with each meeting. Kissing, touching, exploring. On the third night, when Ricky’s hand moved to my breast, I let it remain there. On the fourth night, I slipped my hand into his trousers and grasped his manhood. I’ll spare you the sordid details, but it progressed like that until, exactly one week after the night we met, I allowed Ricky to take my virginity.

When it was over, I laid in his arms and whispered, “I love you.”

Ricky grinned and said, “I love you, too.”

In that moment, I became a woman. I suspect that was the change my sister saw in me that night in the library.

“You’re clearly mad about someone,” she said. “And I know who it is.”

I looked up from my book, numb with worry. Had Berniece seen us? Did she know? Was she now telling others?

“What have you heard?”

“Nothing,” my sister said. “But it’s obvious you’re in love with Archibald.”

I struggled not to laugh as relief poured over me. So many things prevented Archie and me from being together, starting with the fact that he felt more like a sibling to me than my own sister did.

“It’s not Archie,” I said.

“Don’t tell me you still carry a torch for Peter. It’s hopeless. He has no interest in you.”

“Or you.”

“He’ll come around,” my sister said. “I’m certain of it. Then we’ll marry and spend the rest of our days here.”

“At Hope’s End?”

My sister spread her arms wide, as if trying to embrace the house itself. “Of course. I’m never going to leave this place.”

“But there’s a whole world out there you haven’t yet seen,” I said. “I, for one, intend to explore as much of it as I can.”

“With your secret boyfriend?” My sister smiled at me, a look I’d seen so many times that it rarely registered how vicious it could be. Her smile contained neither humor nor warmth. It was as cold and calculating as the girl it belonged to. “You should just go ahead and tell me who he is now. You know I’m going to find out at some point.”

In the end, she was right.

She eventually did find out, and disaster soon followed.

At least she also got her wish. All these years later, she’s still here, roaming the halls. And she’s never going to leave.

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