Chapter FourteenIn lonely desperation on the following Sunday, Lara walked to the church on Bath Street. Her confusing evening with Arama played on her mind. She hadn’t seen or heard him next door since. Her soles kicked at loose gravel on the pavement as she walked, wishing she’d known what to do or say when he’d cried.
She’d stood over him and held him until her legs ached. Then he’d pulled her onto his knee and kissed her. They sat for an hour, holding each other like two drifting souls seeking clarity. Lara felt the surge of attraction again at the thought of his soft lips against hers and fought the rising emotion. Nothing would come of it, no matter how much she now acknowledged she wanted it to.
Arama’s legs had wobbled as he rose and he’d thrust her away from him. Saying nothing,
