Master for Life
The warm tone of her voice, despite the accent, reminded him of Anna. He looked at Anna’s grave. The woman’s delicate hand rested on top of the headstone. His fingers itched to feel her honey coloured skin. This stranger rekindled the intense pain he’d felt when he’d lost Anna. When he’d been told about the fatal car crash, all his burgeoning dreams of a future with her had been blown to smithereens, just like the wreck she’d died in.
He turned his mind back to the woman in front of him. It was the whole package that messed with his mind. Her voice, her body, and her posture. It made him feel the empty ache in the muscle that didn’t feel like a heart anymore. It brought up memories of things he’d wanted, things he’d buried. Things too painful, and best left in the past.
The sun disappeared behind the clouds, bringing with it a cool early morning breeze that swept through the cemetery. Shaking his head to free his mind, he turned back to the hidden face.
“I’m sorry, I’m being rude asking you all these questions without introducing myself. My name is Declan Kyriakou.” He reached out his hand to take hers. “And you are?”
“S-Star. Star Black.”
The moment his fingers curled around hers, his body sizzled to full sexual awareness. Each vertebra in his spine straightened into place, forcing his pelvis forward as her fingers trembled in his hold. He clenched his teeth. It couldn’t be real what he was feeling, yet the doubts he’d had before now hammered furiously within his head and heart.
“Star Black? Forgive me, but I was expecting you to have more of an Indian name.” He indicated towards her sari.
Her pulse fluttered against his fingers, which still held her hand within his grasp.
“Star. You remind me so much of Anna … Anusha.” He nodded to the grave they hovered over. “Did your parents know her too?”
She read the name engraved on the headstone out loud, “Anusha O’Dwyer?”
Was that an increased pulse rate he detected?
“No.” She pulled her hand from his clinging grip, leaving him feeling bereft.
He realised he’d been acting like a randy teenage boy as soon as she shook her hand.
She folded her arms across her chest, and with her head bent towards the sunflowers she asked, “Did you bring those?”
“Were you close?”
He stilled. They’d been so much more than close. Inseparable. Wrapped around each other like conjoined twins for the few months they had together. Except for one moment when she’d needed him most.