Paper Castles by Terri Lee Page A

make the decision while I was sitting in the coffee shop. I thought I could do it. Thought I wanted it. I’m sorry.”
    He looked at her as if they’d never met. “You are sorry. A typical rich bitch.”
    Stung, she fought back. “Let’s be honest, I’m not the only one playing.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “Where did you think this was going? How serious could you be about a married woman with two teenagers? You were counting on me being unavailable. You were just looking for sex.”
    “Really?”
    The look in his eyes told her she’d hurt him.
    “I’m sorry.”
    “You already said that.”
    “I don’t know what I’m saying.” She was floundering. “Don’t listen to me.”
    “You’d better go, then.”
    She was dismissed. Adam swung his legs over to sit on the edge of the bed as she tiptoed around the apartment, hunting down her blouse and shoes, like a streetwalker heading back out into the night after a transaction. Only this customer wasn’t satisfied.
    The record on the turntable had changed again. Coltrane’s, slow seductive jazz beguiled in the background, unaware it was no longer needed and was making things worse. Savannah stuffed her nylons and garter belt in her purse, hiding the evidence. She gathered up her coat and stole a glance at Adam, still sitting on the bed with his back to her. She wanted to say something. Beg forgiveness. But he didn’t look in her direction and she wouldn’t force it. Besides, what could be a suitable apology?
    I’m sorry I’m a prick-tease .
    She closed the door quietly behind her and took the stairs, running as fast as her heels would permit. The chilled night air stung her face. Leaning her head on the steering wheel, she finally let go. The tears rushed out in a mix of anxiety, embarrassment, and regret.
    You’re such a fool. For all your grand thoughts about running off into something wild and dangerous—you’re incapable. You’re even a failure at having an affair.
    She was startled by a knock on the window. It was Adam. Barefoot, with his unbuttoned shirt open to the night air. She fumbled with the handle before rolling down the window.
    “Do you want to come inside and talk?” His angry, bitter expression was gone. Here was the sweet man she’d met her first day in art class, a lock of dark hair falling in his eyes.
    “I can’t trust myself,” she said. “I don’t think I’d have the strength if you tried to change my mind.”
    He crouched down by the window, elbows on the frame so he could see her eye-to-eye. “I won’t try to talk you into anything. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”
    She pressed her fingertips to her eyes, quelling the tears, feeling his kindness would unravel her. “I’ll be okay.”
    “I know you will.”
    “You’ve been so good to me. So good for me. I really don’t think you have any idea and... I’m going to miss you.” Fridays would never be the same. This good-bye wasn’t just for tonight. It was for always. How could she possibly go back to his class? She hadn’t thought that part through. Didn’t realize how much there was to lose. She’d lost Fridays.
    “I’ll miss you, too,” Adam said. “Do me a favor, will you?”
    “What?”
    “Don’t stop painting. You’ve got talent, and I say that as your teacher, not as a seducer. Don’t lose your dreams.”
    “Thank you,” she whispered. “And not just for that.”
    “I know.”
    “I’m sorry I’m not the woman in the painting.” Savannah laid her hand on his cheek.
    “You are that woman. Just not for me.” He kissed the inside of her palm before leaning through the window to kiss her. A tender farewell kiss. He stood up and patted the roof of her car, sending her on her way.
    Tears were still rolling down her cheeks as she pulled onto the street. In her rearview mirror she saw his dark figure standing beneath the streetlight, holding a little piece of her soul.

S AVANNAH SHUFFLED into the kitchen the next morning, pleaded for