She savored our kiss like one does water after a drought. It was as if she sensed my discomfort, so she took her time, teasing me with the faintest pecks until I was the one slanting my mouth over hers and deepening the kiss. It’s ironic how I demanded to be in control of how far we took things, yet I was completely at her mercy as she turned a lifelong aversion for kissing into a newfound addiction. I knew then that I had to let her go. That I couldn’t keep going or pursuing a fake relationship—not when everything about us felt so very real.
