We could leave no evidence of an affair, no letters, no phone calls, not even being seen talking to one another without a purpose. The rumors that would circulate in our small town would mean having to admit to feelings that we weren’t prepared to deal with nor was anyone in our circle of friends. There were nights when he would come to my window at midnight to whisk me away in his Ford Ranger to our secret spot overlooking the lake. Conversation would start out me telling him that I couldn’t go on acting like friends, him responding “we are victims of our circumstances.” Leaning across the seat he took my chin in between his fingers and guided my mouth towards him. I could feel the heat radiate from his blood as it warmed my body and his. We surrender to our instincts, and live in sin for what seems like an eternity.
