Emma froze, her hand still in Lucas's; her heart thumping so loudly she knew he could hear it. Her surroundings appeared to dissolve, leaving only the two of them standing on the brink of something frightening, something that would alter everything.
She had urged herself she would not allow this to occur. Not once more, she had reminded herself she couldn't risk it. Now, however, all those pledges seemed to drift away as Lucas's touch warmed hers.
To let herself feel what she had been striving to ignore for weeks would be so simple to fall into. But that would also be the toughest thing she had ever done.
She glanced up at him, her voice almost audible and said, "I'm scared."
Lucas's eyes softened as his thumb lightly stroked the rear of her hand. "I understand."
if his comments were basic, Emma felt as if he knew her in a way no one else would have because of the way his gaze held hers. The way he appeared to see directly through her shields, straight into the core of who she was, frightened her.
Her voice tight with emotion, she said, "I've been hurt before." "I doubt I could go through that once more."
Lucas's palm curled around hers, his voice calm and low. Emma, I would never harm you.
She felt she should trust him. She wanted to let herself fall into the link she felt with him, trust him. She wasn't sure she understood how to knock down the barriers she had erected around her heart, however; her history was severe and they had been there for so long.
Her voice faltering, she added, "I'm not good at this." "I have no idea how to—".
Lucas moved forward, his other hand softly cupping her face, his touch so delicate it shivered her spine.
"You don't have to know," he replied gently, staring right at her. "You don't have to have all the solutions right now. Just allow yourself to experience this.
Emma gasped as his words set in. Indeed, he was correct. She was not obliged to have everything worked out or to know how things would turn out. She just had to let herself experience what had been there since their first meeting.
She also made her decision at the same instant.
She closed the space between them slowly, nervously, her hand rising to rest on his chest as she leaned in. Her pulse was beating, each nerve in her body alive with expectation as she turned her face up toward his.
Lucas's eyes clouded, and for a pulse everything appeared to halt. The weight of the unsaid emotions that had been accumulating for so long permeated the charged air between them.
Lucas then bridged the space between them with a quiet sigh, his lips just touching hers in a slow, cautious kiss as if he were allowing her to withdraw.
Emma, however, stayed put.
Rather, she leaned into the kiss, her hand slipping up to rest on his neck, thereby strengthening the link. His soft, sweet lips and long, purposeful kiss on her sent a surge of warmth coursed through her.
All the anxiety and all the uncertainty vanished for a minute, leaving only the feeling of Lucas's lips on hers, his heart's steady pulse under her fingers. In his arms, she felt safe—as if, for the first time in a long time, she was free from anxiety.
But then reality started to slink back in as the kiss intensified. Her prior heartache, the anxiety of approaching too near, of letting herself experience anything just to have it snatched away once again.
Emma broke off the kiss, her palm still resting on Lucas's chest as she drew back with short, uneven breaths.
"I—I'm sorry," she muttered with trembling voice. "I'm not able... I'm not fit for this.
Lucas's face softened, and he moved slightly back to give her the necessary distance. He seemed simply patient, as like he knew precisely what she was experiencing, not wounded or annoyed.
"It's fine," he said softly. You are not under pressure to be ready. We will go one step at a time.
Emma nodded, her heart still pounding as she worked to slow her breathing. She had no idea what to say or how to articulate the whirlpool of feelings whirling within her. All she knew was that Lucas was providing her with someone who understood her, who saw her, and who was ready to take things gently, therefore allowing her the time and space she needed. She had believed she would never have again.
She felt a flutter of optimism, yet even then she had a little of fear. Fear what would happen should she let herself fall totally love him.
Her voice almost audible, she said, "I need time."
Lucas nodded, his eyes warm as he stretched out and lightly combed a hair strand behind her ear. "Take all you need all the time."
Emma's heart hurt under his gentle touch and under his patient speech. She wanted to let go, wanted to yield to the emotions she had been striving to suppress. She wasn't sure, however, if she knew how.
She murmured gently, "I should go," stepping back.
Lucas nodded once again, his face inscrutable as he observed her. I understand.
Emma glanced toward the door, her throat tight with feeling and she swallowed hard. She could see Lucas staring at her as she turned away, and with each stride she took, a part of her wanted to turn around and sprint back to him and let herself feel all she had been holding back.
She ignored it, however. Her heart weighing everything unsaid, she continued to walk.
The days that followed blended contradictory feelings. Emma threw herself into her work, attempting to filter out Lucas's ideas that tormented her every waking minute and concentrate on the task. She tried so hard, but she could not get away from the recollection of his kiss—the way he had made her feel.
She hadn't heard from him since that evening, and she felt some thanks for the distance. But another side of her—that which missed him and yearned for seeing him once more—ached.
Her phone rang with a fresh message one evening as she sat in her studio looking at the incomplete painting before her.
He was Lucas.
Lucas: You come first in my mind. Not pressure; just let me know I'm here.
Emma opened the message and her heart skipped a beat; her fingers shook slightly as she wrote her reply.
Emma: thanks. I am also thinking about you.
She pushed submit and started to become nervous right away. She had stated this for what reason? Could she not just maintain her distance?
The voice in the back of mind murmured as she did not want to. You wish he could be here.
And she accomplished. More than she had ever dreamed, she wanted Lucas. Still lingering in the darkness of her heart, however, was a dread of injury and of opening herself again.
She spent the next few days trying to concentrate on her job, but every time her phone rang, her heart jumped, thinking it was Lucas. They sent a few more texts, hardly more than quick check-ins—nothing really private. Emma felt, however, the barriers she had erected around her heart gradually beginning to fall apart with every communication.
Lost in meditation one evening as she sat in her studio, her phone chimed once again.
Lucas: See you is what I want. Not more than coffee; only for that.
Emma's heart thumping in her chest, she fixed her eyes on the note. Coffee here. It was straightforward and naive. She knew, however, that seeing him once more—even for something as little as coffee—would not be easy.
A minute later she wrote her response.
Emma: Hello. When would be?