I have to swallow hard over the sudden lump in my throat. Adeline is watching me as I once watched her. I’ve fought with my eyes to remain distant from her, but they always beg to seek her out, to invade her mind, to overcome her obstinacy. I look to her mother, who is already watching me with intrigue and wonder. She is just as lovely as Adeline, her age showing beautifully and gracefully in the fine wrinkles around her eyes and cheeks. She looks nothing like our world. She’s simple and perfect. Her clothing is casual in the way you would expect to see in some perfect prairie town. She wears boot-cut jeans, a floral peasant-style button-up shirt, and a cardigan. She’s like a model from L.L.Bean, and she’s the perfect glimpse of how Adeline will mature perfectly and genuinely into old age—God willing with me at her side.

I like them instantly, wanting to know more, wanting to invade her life. She gives them the tour of our space we’ve designed together. She shows them the bathroom, the kitchen, the living area, and the bedroom. When we enter the bedroom both our eyes seek the space against the exposed brick wall where we made love. It was the last time we were together, and the stifling emotion in the room is palpable, and I’m guessing she feels the same. Her parents are likely the only ones in the room who don’t feel the heated energy passing between us.

Funny what was once erotic, exciting, and forbidden is now so loaded with emotion and pain, but that is how our dynamic has shifted. When I first met her, it was all about the physicality of our bodies. I wanted hers, and I damn well knew she wanted mine. Now, I still crave her body, her touch, her breath, her kiss, her warmth, her tightness that fits me so perfectly, every last part of her physical being, but it’s now so supercharged with my emotional desire it’s hard to see or understand the difference.

They move in unison around the room, and I catch her occasional glimpse as she points out different details. She’s nervous, she’s unsure once again, and I imagine pulling her into my arms as her parents stand by, reassuring her in the way she needs. My feelings are genuine, and for the first time in such a long time I feel no guilt. I’ve honored her body, her mind, her soul, and though I’ve lost her, it’s not for lack of want.

As I follow them from the room still studying their closeness, compassion, and relation to one another, I listen to their conversation. They want to take her to lunch. They must be back at the airport at three o’clock to continue their trip to Washington, D.C. Adeline’s gaze flits to mine as she considers their proposal, but before she has time to concern herself or refuse their wishes, I step in. “Why don’t you let me take you all to lunch. I’d love the chance to speak with you further, and we have some fine restaurants nearby.”

Adeline’s eyes flash to mine, and I register her concern. “You don’t have to do that…” Her expression is warning me, but there’s no need. I just want to be near her, to experience her life, to understand her better.

“Nonsense. We all have to eat. I don’t want to interrupt your time together though…” Her father shakes his head at my last comment, stopping any further question as Adeline’s mother watches us both in interest. A small smile creeps across her face as she relents to our wishes with a subtle nod, and linking her arm with Adeline’s, she steers us all toward the elevators.

***

“What do you mean you grew up alone?” My mother’s words are prying as they always are, and by the hesitant look on Jordan’s face it hasn’t escaped his attention.

But he’s a good sport as he replies, “They were always overseas. My father’s position as an ambassador required it, and by the time I knew any better I was in boarding school.”

“But who took care of you?”

“I had nannies. A number of nannies. And once I was older, I don’t know. It was just…” He looks embarrassed, vulnerable; he can’t hold my gaze and is fidgeting. Jordan doesn’t do nervous, but by the look of it he is exactly that. My mother is prying, which of course she’s good at, but it has me wanting to defend him. The sadness and humiliation in his eyes hurts. We are nothing but a reminder of everything he didn’t have in his family.

“But now … I mean … you must see them now. Right?” My mother still. She can be unrelenting. She means no harm, and by the compassioned look on her face her heart is breaking.

“Uh… Well … I mean … sometimes.” His speech is halted and lurching in his embarrassment, and it hurts me physically. His gaze flits away. “They usually call if they come to town.”

“Usually?” The woman will not stop.

“Mom, please.” I’m begging as much with my eyes as my words. I don’t want to offend him. He’s so uncomfortable, it’s hard to watch.

But my mother can ignore me with the best of them when she wants. “But I mean, what about birthdays, holidays… They visited you then, didn’t they? Or did you visit them?”

“Mom!”

“It’s okay, Adeline.” He finally looks back to my eyes, but looks away quickly again. “Umm … no … I…” He clears his throat before continuing. “I just… They were… No, I didn’t see them… They sent gifts … sometimes…” He shrugs, still fighting the humiliation, but he’s being honest and forthright. He has no reason to be embarrassed, and I wish I could tell him; of all the things I would love to say to him, it’s the most important thing he needs from me right now. But that isn’t who we are.

He clears his throat as my parents continue to study him. As the conversation moves away from him and his sad upbringing, he listens to our interaction. He looks relieved to have the heat off him, and at times he even looks amused. He’s given up withholding his eyes from mine entirely and watches me. But I’m still stuck on his words. He grew up nearly alone. His parents were always overseas, and he stayed at home being raised by nannies before eventually being shipped off to boarding school. He admitted some of these details to me already, but the candor and pain in his voice as he delved into the true details of his life was eye opening. He tried hard to act as though it was nothing, but the embarrassment was so visible, his voice far quieter than usual. My God, how is growing up alone nothing? I can’t imagine my life without my parents being present and supporting, and yet he has nearly always been alone.

His words leave me wanting to touch him, to hold him, to be close to him in any way, but he keeps the conversation from coming back around to him. “So tell me about Adeline. What was she like growing up?” Oh here we go…

***

My gaze shifts to hers as I wait for their response.

“She was smart, beautiful, the perfect daughter really…” Spoken by her mother, Andrea.

“And occasionally good at making a fool of herself!” Spoken by Sam.

Sam gets my vote, and I can’t help but question him further as Adeline’s cheeks flush with my favorite shade of scarlet. “A fool, huh? How so?”

“Well, once when she was performing in the musical Guys and Dolls, she forgot to put a slip on under her skirt that she then had to tear off in one of the scenes… She tore… But there was nothing there but underwear… She screeched and ran off stage. Her mom and I weren’t sure she’d ever recover from that one…” Her father’s voice trails off in remembrance, and his brow is screwed up in fatherly consternation; her mother slaps his shoulder, and the flush in Adeline’s cheeks deepens with the heat of her embarrassment. Oh her dear, sweet, humiliating father; I like him.

My humiliation was difficult to swallow, but delving into her life eases my conscious considerably. I laugh as I imagine her mishap, but the part of my groin attached to my brain is throbbing with the visualizing of this scene playing out in front of me.

The silly tails of her upbringing and her ever present need to embarrass herself are as much heartwarming as they are a turn-on. She has an amazing family. Her parents love her dearly, and I can see why she’s so close to them. Most of the time, my less than favorable upbringing doesn’t bother me, but it’s times such as these I wish for such a relationship in my life. I’ve missed out by not having this type of incredible close relationship with my parents, but I can usually push it away. On this day, I can see the importance of it in her life, and I’m reminded however much I may want to be so important to her, they are her world, not me.

As the conversation shifts from one thing to another, eventually making its way back to Adeline’s internship, I join in the talk, not realizing until it’s too late I’ve just outed Adeline in a way she doesn’t appreciate. “Well you must be excited she’ll be moving back to Des Moines once she’s graduated?”

I thought it was an innocent question. It never occurred to me she might actually be hiding this wee bit of information from her parents, but I realize not only is she hiding our intimate familiarity from them—I’m not complaining—but she’s also managed to forget to tell her parents she’ll be returning to Iowa after graduation as well.

Her eyes widen considerably as she chokes on a drink of tea. “Well, I just haven’t gotten a job here yet, and I can’t imagine I will before graduation at this point. I can’t afford to stay with no job…” She’s desperate to reassure them as her words tumble out. She looks to me, and I flinch at the discomfort in her eyes.

“But, Addy, you can’t leave Chicago. You’ve told us a hundred times this is where you need to be for a career in design.” Her mother’s expression looks concerned, her father looks gruff, and Adeline looks damn near devastated.

I want to rescue her once again. I want to rescue her from the people who love her more than any other in the world, perhaps beside me, and I say the only thought in my mind. It’s desperate, perhaps inappropriate, and not just a little unethical. “You could stay with me if you needed a place while you look for a job.”