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I stumble into the hallway as he turns around and the passion that’s in his eyes is burning as bright as the hair on his head. I slowly walk up to him as he friends all whisper to him, probably wondering who I am. I don’t even know this man's name or what the hell I’m going to say when I finally reach him. With every step my hearts pounds harder, I can feel my hands start to sweat. What the hell am I doing?I finally reach up to him and he’s taller than I remember. Although when he kissed me he was two stairs below me, so that makes sense.“Hi,” my tiny voice says out loud in the scratchiest way.“Hey, Sophia right?” He uses that side smile again and all I can think about is kissing it all over. I’m standing there and I realize I want his hands around my face, I want his tongue against mine and I want to feel his body pressed up against me.“Right?” He asks again. I snap out of it.“Yes, that’s right.”He turns to his friends saying he’ll catch up with them later. Some of his friends smile,. I'd been close to her for many years. It was she who had encouraged me to take up nursing when I left school, and it was she who had helped to support my studies at nursing college.I really don't know whether it was this loss that started me having sex without any strings - without any feeling of commitment or needing commitment, or without any sense that this might be the man who might be my future husband, but it was just after the funeral on September 30th that I guess I could say I had my first casual encounter with a man. I went back to Aunt Natalie's house straight after the funeral and got talking to a friend of my Aunt's. I guess he was about 50. He'd been a co-worker at the office where she worked, and I suspected that he might also have been a lover. Aunt Natalie had never married. He certainly seemed very upset by her loss, and as we talked on the front terrace of her house he took my hand and I comforted him.And it seemed quite natural for me to comfort him in any way I.
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