“I’m sorry,” she whispered with a cough, her lips trembling. “Oh Lucian, please forgive me. I am so sorry.”The words were exactly like her: ...he studied drama, the overdone pathos. But her face no longer supplied the required expressions; no humility, no regret – no puppy eyes, no desperate eyebrows.Her face was a waxen mask – and her eyes were dead.He yielded two more steps ­– his bare soles pressing against the cold floor, feeling as numb as his mind. He knew he should be mad, insulted by her. What had she been so afraid of? Several hours surged forward in what seemed like just a few minutes. They danced, they talked to other rapturous partygoers, they moved their hands over each other’s skin, reconnecting. She felt him cupping her bare apple bottom under her short white skirt that was riding dangerously low over her hips, a sheen of sweat over her taut tanned belly that dampened his shirt as she pressed against him. As the night continued, Megan momentarily lost sight of Shane after. More

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