She took another step and those
pained, tear-filled eyes that were spilling violently over looked dejectedly at
his face. Her eyes swept cautiously over his entire countenance before they
diverted themselves to his mouth.
She concentrated on his mouth with
all her being as she moistened her lips nervously with her tongue although they
were already wet with tears. Her lips moved in a soft murmur before the words
came out, soft and shaking, just loud enough for one who was paying
painstakingly close attention to hear, and so he was.
He leaned closer as her lips moved
and not a single word that escaped those broken lips escaped his ears. “I am so
sorry,” she half-groaned. “I don’t know why I did this. How I could have done
this. To you.” She gasped in a deep breath as if she hadn’t taken a single
breath the entire time she was speaking, as indeed she hadn’t.
His eyes were riveted on her as she
spoke and he leaned slightly forward toward her. He opened his mouth and was
about to say her name when she shook her head and placed a finger on his lips."
~Grace Marshall
From my short story "The Affair"
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