We make love again, more slowly this time, exploring tender topography missed in our first frenzied joining. We cherish each other, every touch and taste and murmur. We whisper promises as the afternoon ebbs into evening. Words like forever and tomorrow and always. And we mean them when we say them. Or at least I do. Because I haven’t begun to think any of it through. What it will mean. What it will cost. Where it all might lead.
even if we didn't know the ending (or in this case, the beginning) we'd still know it. she's so naive! just enjoy the sex and stop pretending! but of course, it's the 40s, this is the height of scandal! Romeo and Juliet! destined to burn to the ground!
