By Lowri Clarke
Third time. Quick look over the shoulder. Retype another variation of her name. Pet name. Sex kitten name plus the year they met. Denied. Heels on the hall floor. She closes the window to his email.
“Darling.” He kisses her neck, that terrible guilt plain on his face.
They both wait. Eyes lock over the minefield.
She snaps the laptop shut. Applies red lipstick in the mirror.
“Don’t wait up.” Heels click busily away down the corridor.
He opens the machine and finds the bookmark. Logs in to her email.
“Hey, honey,” he begins. “I’m running late. Let’s meet someplace else.”
Awesome!
Good delivery on this misdirection.
Tense and taut and packs so much into so few words
I love that line “Eyes lock over the minefield”. The tension is almost palpable… tc
!!!!!!!! Wow Low.
What can I say? This is one great, explosive story! Loved it!