Tug-of-war

He said sorry with his eyes showing apology. She looked back with anger, dotted with amusement. “Sorry is not enough,” she said. “Then what can I do? Please tell me,” he begged. She looked at him for the first time since he had come. He was wearing the same crisp blue shirt that used to make her heart race. His jeans fit as nicely as before. She remembered the feeling of his protective arms around her, his cologne adding to her dreamy state. Then she saw his hands. They weren’t the same hands anymore. Those hands had touched the forbidden. She felt a strong flicker of rage run through her. His eyes searched her. She felt her mouth saying no. The tug-of-war between mind and heart ended. She left with a smile.

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