I lie on my back andugh up at my photographer. star and I have had the most perfect day. He has


    taken me to two art galleries and exined every painting that he loves to me in great detail. We’ve held


    hands and kissed like kids,ughing more than ever before. We came home this afternoon and made love.


    Then we lit the fires together and now he has me naked in bed on top of the sheets that he has changed


    twice because he wasn’t happy with the colors. He is at the top of adder with his camera and is taking


    photos of me from above. Apparently I am his next painting project. Every now and then he climbs down


    the dder  and  rearranges  my  hair  spread  on  the  pillow,  or  he  readjusts  the  cashmere  throw  he  has


    strategically draped over me. He smiles, as if enamored with my beauty.


    One of my breasts is on full disy and the nket is just covering my sex.


    He drops the camera, stands and smiles at me.


    “What?” I smirk.


    He shakes his head as if hardly believing it. “I’ve never photographed someone so beautiful.”


    Iugh out loud. “You horrid liar.” He chuckles as he snaps away. “Nobody I have felt this way about,


    anyway,” he mutters under his breath.


    Now. Ask him now.


    I lie looking up at him. “How do you feel about me, star?” I whisper, notpletely sure if I want


    to know the answer.


    He drops the camera and looks at me from his perched position on thedder.


    My eyes search his.


    “I feel like I could fall hopelessly in love with you,” he replies softly.


    My heart sinks. Not the answer I was hoping for. I drop my eyes and stare at the nket. Of course


    he’s going to say that. You idiot. What were you expecting?


    Stop it. Stop it. Stop it.


    I feel tears at the back of my eyes but I am determined not to let him see them. I got myself into this


    position; I knew it was never going to be more.


    “Look at me,” he whispers.


    I drag my hurt eyes to meet his.


    “Say it,” he murmurs.


    I stare at him.


    “Say what you want to say.”


    The lump in my throat nearly chokes me.


    “Emmaline,” he whispers. “What are you thinking, my love?”


    “I’m thinking that you are lucky that you just could fall in love.”


    He frowns.


    “Instead of have….. like me.” I whisper.


    Our eyes lock and, unable to help it, mine fill with tears.


    I’m pathetic. I wipe my tears away angrily and fake a smile.


    “Don’t… don’t mind me,” I stammer. “I told you not to fry my brain.” I halfugh.


    His sad eyes hold mine and he puts his camera back into its tripod, setting it on auto.


    I watch in slow motion as he pulls his sweater off over his head and slides down his pants. He climbs


    into bed with me and holds me in his arms.


    I feel like crying to the moon.


    “I wish things were different,” he whispers into my lips, the sound of his camera snapping every thirty


    seconds filling the silence. My shining bright Star makes slow, tender, yet terribly sad love to me.


    I will never be the same again.


    We walk up the road hand in hand. I feel as though I am going to hyperventte. It’s Tuesday morning and


    time to say goodbye.


    This morning star’s OCD has been at an all time high as I watched him pack and repack my things


    in  silence.  He  made  the  bed  and  changed  the  linen  with  such  force,  I  thought  he  may  have  ripped  the


    sheets. When we got to my apartment to drop off my belongings he insisted in putting everything away for


    me. I had two extra suitcases of things. It seems he shops for expensive clothes when stressed, as well.


    Last night we were both quiet, both lost in our own thoughts. I told him on Saturday, in a roundabout


    way, that I loved him, and he didn’t say it back.


    He hasn’t told me about his trip and I haven’t asked. I know this is it. Maybe I’m being delusional-I


    probably am-but I feel like my feelings are reciprocated; yet for some reason he just can’t act on them. I


    keep feeling like I have missed a chapter of this book, like there is something going on behind the scenes


    that I don’t know about.


    We ate breakfast in silence. Well, that’s not true. The sound of my heart breaking could have been


    heard for miles.


    I’m not going to beg.


    I’m not going to lower myself to being one of those clingy pathetic girls.


    I deserve better.


    But, God, I want him to want me as much as I want him.


    It hurts that he doesn’t.


    We get to the pavement outside my work and we turn to face each other as he holds both of my hands


    in his.Content is ? 2024 N?velDrama.Org.


    I fake a smile. “Thank you.”


    He nods, his sad eyes holding mine.


    Don’t go.


    “Have a great trip,” I whisper.


    He nods, again not saying anything.


    I just need to go. I just need to get the hell out of here before I make a bigger fool of myself.


    I kiss him quickly on the lips and move to pull away but he keeps me in ce, holding me by the


    hands.