Read Online We Will Always Have the Closet by Natalina Reis - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Natalina Reis
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voice.
“Sam, I just can’t…” she replied feebly. How do you explain to a virtual stranger that if your heart had been broken like hers had, it wasn’t easy to just let someone new in? “I’m not good with this.”
“What is this ?” he asked, confused. “Kissing, dating, what?”
“Affairs of the heart, I guess,” she explained, feeling stupid for saying it out loud. “I haven’t had much luck with men in the past, so I have decided not to get involved.”
“So, you’re telling me that one asshole breaks your heart and you just assume all men are dirt?” His voice showed anger, but she knew he was mostly frustrated by the whole thing. They were obviously good together, at least in a physical sense. But was that enough to at least start? He was a decent guy; she didn’t think he would use her and then stomp on her heart for kicks. But then again, she had thought the same about her ex-husband. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it that way,” he said in a gentler voice. “I just feel a connection, that’s all, and I haven’t felt this in a long time. Or ever.”
“I just need time.” To stop the bleeding . “Thank you, Sam. It was a very pleasant evening and I’m sorry if I ruined it for you.” She finally gathered up the courage to look him in the eye. To her surprise, he didn’t look mad or even annoyed. There was something wonderful about his expression that she couldn’t quite describe, as if the sight of her pleased him so much he couldn’t hide it. His hand came to rest on her cheek and she automatically leaned against it.
“You didn’t ruin anything, spitfire,” he said with a smile. “Go home before I kiss you again.” With that warning, Petra opened the car door and headed to her front door. In spite of everything, the awkwardness, the panic, the crippling fear, she felt wonderful and she floated, rather than walked those few yards to her door.
***
Petra
The sun was shining, the clouds were making themselves scarce, and the air had that feeling of crispness that only the northwest could provide—a mixture of warmth all wrapped up in a pleasantly chilly shell. Petra sat on the wooden bench in her garden overlooking the water, admiring the quality of light that such weather afforded. The giant evergreens that covered almost every inch of the hills around her house looked greener today; even the leaves of her dormant flowers took on a sheen and hue that was rarely seen. Maybe a fairy had flown over the land and sprinkled it with magic powder, endowing everything visible with a new dimension. Or maybe human eyes were the target of such magic and they could now see things and colors in a way that, by comparison, made the usual hues seem drab and ordinary.
With a great big sigh, Petra closed her eyes and inhaled the crisp, slightly briny air before returning to her novel. What a rare pleasure for her to sit there, comfortable in her big fluffy warm sweater, enjoying a hot cup of coffee and reading a wonderful book. These days she seemed to have less and less time to do what she wanted, to indulge in the small pleasures that made life worth living. Her job at the magazine kept her extremely busy, both in the office and at home. Of course, she shouldn’t complain. At a time when people in the print business were losing their jobs, her magazine seemed to have been spared—at least for now. In fact, it seemed to thrive both in print form and as an e-publication. The only downside was that every writer for the magazine had new responsibilities added to their job, and what used to be pleasurable was quickly becoming more of a chore. The literary articles she used to write for the magazine were now supplemented by a blog and an “entertainment review,” two things that were fun at times, but also quickly became tedious and void of meaning.
Besides her job at the magazine, Petra refused to give up on her volunteering both at St. Vincent’s and as an art docent at local museums
“Sam, I just can’t…” she replied feebly. How do you explain to a virtual stranger that if your heart had been broken like hers had, it wasn’t easy to just let someone new in? “I’m not good with this.”
“What is this ?” he asked, confused. “Kissing, dating, what?”
“Affairs of the heart, I guess,” she explained, feeling stupid for saying it out loud. “I haven’t had much luck with men in the past, so I have decided not to get involved.”
“So, you’re telling me that one asshole breaks your heart and you just assume all men are dirt?” His voice showed anger, but she knew he was mostly frustrated by the whole thing. They were obviously good together, at least in a physical sense. But was that enough to at least start? He was a decent guy; she didn’t think he would use her and then stomp on her heart for kicks. But then again, she had thought the same about her ex-husband. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it that way,” he said in a gentler voice. “I just feel a connection, that’s all, and I haven’t felt this in a long time. Or ever.”
“I just need time.” To stop the bleeding . “Thank you, Sam. It was a very pleasant evening and I’m sorry if I ruined it for you.” She finally gathered up the courage to look him in the eye. To her surprise, he didn’t look mad or even annoyed. There was something wonderful about his expression that she couldn’t quite describe, as if the sight of her pleased him so much he couldn’t hide it. His hand came to rest on her cheek and she automatically leaned against it.
“You didn’t ruin anything, spitfire,” he said with a smile. “Go home before I kiss you again.” With that warning, Petra opened the car door and headed to her front door. In spite of everything, the awkwardness, the panic, the crippling fear, she felt wonderful and she floated, rather than walked those few yards to her door.
***
Petra
The sun was shining, the clouds were making themselves scarce, and the air had that feeling of crispness that only the northwest could provide—a mixture of warmth all wrapped up in a pleasantly chilly shell. Petra sat on the wooden bench in her garden overlooking the water, admiring the quality of light that such weather afforded. The giant evergreens that covered almost every inch of the hills around her house looked greener today; even the leaves of her dormant flowers took on a sheen and hue that was rarely seen. Maybe a fairy had flown over the land and sprinkled it with magic powder, endowing everything visible with a new dimension. Or maybe human eyes were the target of such magic and they could now see things and colors in a way that, by comparison, made the usual hues seem drab and ordinary.
With a great big sigh, Petra closed her eyes and inhaled the crisp, slightly briny air before returning to her novel. What a rare pleasure for her to sit there, comfortable in her big fluffy warm sweater, enjoying a hot cup of coffee and reading a wonderful book. These days she seemed to have less and less time to do what she wanted, to indulge in the small pleasures that made life worth living. Her job at the magazine kept her extremely busy, both in the office and at home. Of course, she shouldn’t complain. At a time when people in the print business were losing their jobs, her magazine seemed to have been spared—at least for now. In fact, it seemed to thrive both in print form and as an e-publication. The only downside was that every writer for the magazine had new responsibilities added to their job, and what used to be pleasurable was quickly becoming more of a chore. The literary articles she used to write for the magazine were now supplemented by a blog and an “entertainment review,” two things that were fun at times, but also quickly became tedious and void of meaning.
Besides her job at the magazine, Petra refused to give up on her volunteering both at St. Vincent’s and as an art docent at local museums
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