Page 8 of Trusting His Heart

The soft curve of her back barely visible through the folds of the grey sweater and hair.

This, this gorgeous and engaging woman here next to him was the reason he only dated students. Students were young, ambitious and even those who thought they were in love with him quickly learnt he was emotionally barren and they were better off without him.

He avoided any chance to meet or date a woman he could love. She would have to have grace and elegance, a sharp wit to keep him on his toes. She would match him in conversation and on the tennis court, share his passion for the arts and sport.

Better not to try.

As he watched Bec stir again and face him, he started to doubt himself. What if he did find love again?

The smell of breakfast tray being served woke Bec. Her blue eyes took a moment to adjust to the light and for a moment she seemed stunned to find Geoffrey watching her.

“Good morning, gorgeous.” Not every woman woke as beautiful as Bec. If only the wedding ring didn’t glisten in the morning light.

“Good morning, how did you sleep?”

“Fine,” he lied.

“Really? I hope I look better refreshed than you do,” the laugh took the edge off her words.

“You look stunning, the poster child for sleeping on flights.”

“Well, thank you, kind sir. If you will let me past, I’ll freshen up before we share our first breakfast together.”

Geoffrey forced himself not to look for her to return. After all the hours they spent together, he should allow the lady a few minutes to herself. Especially since they would spend another six or so hours together before he lost her. Would her husband be waiting? With or without children? Geoffrey imagined half a dozen children waiting with their father at the airport, all with blond curls and varying shades of blue eyes.

What happened to him? Less than one week ago he assured his old friend there would never be another woman in his life like Rachel. Never the opportunity for love. For a man like him, it was a one time deal.

Now, he was overcome with jealousy for the man who put a wedding ring on a woman he only met yesterday!

“So, Professor,” Bec returned with two coffees. “I assumed white with two sugars. If you don’t like it, you can wait for the trolley to arrive.”

“Perfect, thanks.” Geoffrey allowed Bec to ease past him to her seat thinking how criminal to have curves like hers on a married woman.

“Geoffrey, last we spoke, you avoided any topic which resembled relationships. So, what woman broke your heart so much you need fill your life with an endless trail of young bodies.”

Nothing like a well rested woman to cut to his truth.

“Before I answer, and I am happy to do so, what man would allow you to fly half way across the world with enough luggage to indicate you were not coming back.”

Her eyes narrowed, “Do you really want to go there?”

“Bec, we have six hours before we land. You wanted to play this game and after our last night together,” he forced a laugh, “If I am going to tell anyone my truth, it will be you. But, you have to meet me half way.”

Why did his emotions rise and fall as her eyes softened or hardened against him? “Okay,” she agreed, “Let’s do it slowly, one truth at a time.” A statement, yet Geoffrey nodded as if she asked a question.

“Have you ever loved a woman?” He nodded.

“Are you still married?”

Bec closed her eyes and Geoffrey wondered why she had to fight to stay composed. Why did she find the question hard? Either she was married or not – the ring would indicate a “yes”.

“Okay, you wanted the truth,” she slowly opened her eyes again but they were devoid of emotion. No sparkle, no anger. “I was married, but I guess right now I’m not. Have you been married?”

He should have anticipated the question. Now he squirmed in his chair, trying to look past Bec through the window. Luckily their breakfast trays arrived and he focused on the delicate nature of cutting through the egg yolks.

“My dear Professor, I asked such a simple question, unless of course a Los Vegas church service and one of your young blondes was involved at three am.” A higher pitch laugh, now the conversation entered dangerous territory.

“I loved my wife.”