The Last Kiss Goodbuy

The Last Kiss Goodbye

By Karen Robards

 She snorted, shaking her head in firm denial. Terrifying to think that having a ghost-following her made her feel more fully alive than she had in days. Even more terrifying to realize that what she really wanted to do was turn around and walk right into his arms.

Which she couldn't do, because he had no more substance than air. And which se wouldnèt do even if she could

Because she really wasn't that self-destructive. She didn't think.

Moonlight pouring through the kitchen windows – a tall, wide one that took up almost all the back wall behind the eating area, and a smaller one set into the top of the kitchen door – illuminated the white cabinets and stainless steel appliances and hardwood floor. She'd left the curtains at the front of the house closed, so no one could see in from the street. The kitchen blinds were raised all the way to the top of the windows, since there was no one living behind her to see in, and since she liked the view. As she stepped into the silvery light from the hall's darkness, Charlie realized that she could see her reflection in the big window's dark glass. Her chestnut brown hair hung in loose waves around her shoulders. Her denim blue eyes looked surprisingly sultry. It took her a second to remember that she had deliberately played them up with liner and shadow, which she almost never wore, and an extra coat or two of mascara. Her wide mouth looked full and soft, but more vulnerable than it should have, given that right after dinner she had freshly applied deep red (vampy) lipstick. The softly smudged look would be the result, she realized, of Tony subsequently kissing all her lipstick off, so her lips were now both slightly swollen and bare.

The Last Kiss Goodbuy. Picture by Elena.

The makeup plus the three-inch heels made her look, um. Sexier than usual. In honor of her date with Tony, she'd made an effort. With, yes, the thought that she might allow their relationship to progress to the next level, as in, sleep with him. Because Tony was way handsome and because she really liked him and because she badly needed a normal, uncomplicated man-woman relationship in her life.

And because she'd feared – thought – that Garland was gone for good and she was determined to eradicate any lingering memories of him. Of them.

In the end, she hadn't been able to bring herself to invite Tony in.

She'd already been sending him on his way when the blasting of her should-have-been-silent TV reached her ears and caused her heart to swell with hope and hurried things along. Sex with Tony, she had decided somewhere between dinner and her front door, was something that just wasn't going to happen. At least, not yet.