An entry for Friday Fictioneers. (Yes, I’m aware it’s Tuesday; it’s been a rough week.)
He always dives into every project, even when his brain firmly cries, “NO!”
“Yes,” falls from his lips. Then panic descends. But when his hands dance across the keys, he only hears his music.
Even though he has a morning wedding, an afternoon bat-mitzvah, and an evening church dance scheduled the day before, when she asks him to play at her husband’s retirement reception, he cannot refuse.
She hugs him close, and he fears she can feel his heart pounding through her thin blouse. He feels her breath through his. And then he feels guilt, heavy, pervasive.
For twenty long years, he’s loved his brother’s wife.