Mark’s heart twinged.

Cecilia’s departure was forestalled by Mark’s grasp, his hand producing a cigarette.

Only half of it was smoked before it was snuffed out.

His Lips descended upon hers in a deep, intense ki*s, laden with a yearning that lingered in the air.

Initially resistant, Cecilia’s resistance gradually softened.

But her eyes glistened with tears.

Mark desisted, his forehead meeting hers, his touch tender as he smoothed her dress.

had failed her, burdening her with enough

end loomed with a looming project deadline, yet Mark

murmured, “Don’t let Edwin

think I’m

a

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door ajar, she

after her, observing

the front, a young boy likely from the studio

remained

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