momentary discretions

You’ve got to try the swordfish, she tells me as she peruses the wine list. I smile, knowing her recommendations are fail safe and her taste is absolutely impeccable. I order the swordfish.

Her lips curl around her glass and the wine slides down her throat. She nods towards the waiter and he pours the burgundy red liquid into my glass. I watch as her eyes follow mine and it makes me blush and glance toward my lap. It’s not as though my affinity for her is a secret, though I like to pretend I’m the only one who knows. She is as off limits as they get and I wonder how we even wound up in this little corner of a restaurant in midtown Manhattan, about to embark on what I’m sure will cause nothing but chaos for both of us.

We talk lightly about our jobs and our families – she mentions her husband in passing a few times and I wince. She is someone’s – I continue to remind myself, a small slap back to reality. It never lasts too long and I am back in this dream world, staring into her sea green eyes as they make my insides swirl. It’s probably the wine, or maybe the circumstance – perhaps a combination of the two – that’s making me shutter with anticipation and a touch of guilt.

Where does this come from? I wonder. Infatuation, completely warping my every day ability to define clearly what is right and what is not.

Do you think they wonder where we are? I ask her, a bottle and a half of wine and several hours later.

Probably not, she replies and looks down at her phone. Are you worried?

I shake my head because I am of course worried but have no desire or ability to show it.

There is nothing I see that I don’t want to see and as we walk onto the street, the wind picks up and blows my hair into my eyes. I reach up and brush it out of my face and she wastes no time in grabbing my free hand and leading me down the sidewalk. I feel the shiver in my calves as we head towards Times Square. The neon signs and the damp air float us through the crowds to a clearing and she turns to look me in the eye. I realize we’ve stopped in front of her hotel.

Do you want to walk around for a while or…. I trail off while glancing briefly towards the door and she quickly pulls my waist towards hers. I can barely stand this close without feeling completely taken and before I can speak again she kisses me, soft and sweet and I am swept away. And any chance I had at changing my mind vanishes with me. There is no turning back.