style="font-size:15px;"> He looked down at her. “You’re worried, too?”
She nodded. Her throat had grown too tight to speak.
“You think I should go with these people?”
She swallowed hard. “You don’t remember them now, but you will. They’re your friends.”
Kent looked about the room. “I’ll go,” he said. “Only because this seems a way to resolve this mix-up once and for all.”
“Good choice,” Leon said.
But Kent was looking at Anna. “I’ll be back for you.” He bent down swiftly and kissed her hard on the lips. His mouth slid to her cheek. “I’ll be back,” he whispered against the yield of flesh, the opening of pores.
He pulled away, turned to the two others. “Let’s go.”
They walked to the door. He turned only once. He looked at her.
Sound welled within her, climbed up her throat. Her mouth opened, her lips drew back. The tendons in her throat contracted. Yet no sound came.
Then he was gone.
Her mouth closed. Her lips met, their tight line echoed in her flat stare, the erect, still way she stood.
The first time, she hadn’t been given the chance to say goodbye. The second time, she’d been too much the coward.
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