“I love you Celia.” He said again, shaking me gently, trying to snap me out of my trance I think.
“No.” I whispered. He couldn’t. He’d been married before, he has a daughter, if he loved me, wouldn’t he have told me sooner?
“Celia?” He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close when he realized I was crying, “Don’t cry. I’m sorry, but I needed you to know, I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you all summer.”
“I’m going home tomorrow. I can’t do this Kyle. I’m going home tomorrow. Don’t do this to me.” I buried my face in his shoulder.
“Celia, look at me please.”
And that was the worst mistake I’d made all summer. Why? Because he kissed me.
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