She had to admit that she was fascinated by him when she saw him the very first time. He had a special charisma, without even a word falling from his lips. It would for sure be interesting working with him, nothing more. However, all she could think about were his fingers intertwined with hers.
She was drawn to him in a way she could not explain, and she was certain he sensed something too. Nevertheless she convinced herself that her emotions were not real, an irrational overreaction. He was far away from being her type. Still, everything she could muse about were his lips rough on her painted ones.
She was determined to not fall in love with him. Couldn’t imagine how a relationship should ever work between the two of them. It was just not possible. Yet, she pondered on how his touch would feel on her skin, everywhere.
After all, she wondered how her life would have turned out if he had not kissed her that night. If she had not followed him to his room and into his bed. She speculated whether she would have ended unhappy anyway, no matter if she had allowed herself to love again or not. Unsure if she should regret the day she put that ring on. She questioned herself if, in the end, all that is left are bittersweet memories and the strong urge to intertwine her fingers with his one more time. Sense his lips rough on her painted ones, feel his touch on her skin. Just him, everywhere, one last time.