Always Watching

She probably wouldn’t even finish the retreat once she found out how many rules there were. They wouldn’t have time to mess with her. Daniel had even said himself that lots of people left after the first weekend. Meanwhile, all I could do was accept that I’d done everything I could and there was nothing else to try.
    As I studied Kevin by the firelight, his hair shining and his brown eyes reflecting the flickering flames, he told me about some of his travels. I watched his hand on his glass, his ease of movement as he brought it to his lips again and again. He had just finished explaining some of the meditation techniques he’d learned in India, when I said, “You’ve obviously done a lot of traveling. Did you go on your own? Or were you married?”
    “When I was younger, but I was single when I was traveling. That was one of the main reasons I went on the trip, so I could do some soul-searching.”
    “Divorced?” I imagined him with someone he met while at university, but they grew apart as they began their careers—a common occurrence.
    “Nope, widowed.”
    I stared at him, my drink halfway to my mouth. He was a widower too?
    Kevin, his face vaguely amused, said, “You okay?”
    “Yes, sorry. I was just surprised I didn’t know that.”
    “I haven’t told anyone at the hospital.”
    Another surprise. He seemed like such an open book I wondered what else he wasn’t sharing. I also realized his hand was on the back of the couch. If I leaned backward, my neck would touch his skin, but I didn’t move. Instead I said, “Did you know that I’d lost my husband?”
    He nodded. “Someone mentioned it.”
    I wanted to ask who, but had a feeling it was probably one of the nurses, remembering that we’d talked about it once when the hospital had a fund-raiser for cancer. I said, “How did you lose your wife?”
    “It was about six years ago. She was coming home from the school—she was a teacher—and a drunk driver hit her head-on.”
    I shook my head. “My God, I’m so sorry.”
    “Thanks, I appreciate that. I was in bad shape for a long while. We were ready to start a family, so I felt like I’d lost everything at once.”
    I nodded, understanding all too well. When we lose someone, we also grieve over all the things that will never be.
    He said, “I joined a support group, made some good friends, and pulled through it.”
    “Have you had any relationships since?” I held my breath, in anticipation of his answer, wondering what kind of response I was hoping for.
    He turned slightly so he was facing me, his arm still resting on the back of the couch. I could feel the heat of his body, the sensation of his skin so close to mine, sending a shiver from the base of my spine up to the back of my neck.
    “Nothing serious. I just haven’t found anyone I really connected with. It was always too easy to keep them at a distance.” He took a sip of sake, then added, “I was starting to wonder if maybe I was never going to feel strongly about anyone again, but then…” He paused, his cheeks flushed slightly.
    I said, “But then?”
    Still looking hesitant, he held my gaze. “I met you, and I realized that maybe it was possible.”
    My chest tightened, the moment slowing, everything that he was thinking and feeling reflected in his eyes. My face must have signaled something because he reached over and took my sake glass out of my hand while his other arm dropped from the back of the couch to my neck, his fingers splaying at the nape, gently turning my face toward his. He leaned forward, pressed his lips to mine. I also leaned into the kiss, tasting warm sake on his tongue, heat spreading through my body. His hands tangled in my hair. Mine reached up and curled around his biceps, feeling the hard muscles there. He led the way, teasing and gentle, then more passionate. My own ardor grew, my breath coming faster. Then I remembered Lisa’s words. I could feel Dad, like he was in the room with me.
    My mind filled with the image of kissing Paul, suddenly aware of the different feeling of Kevin’s mouth. I opened my eyes, and caught sight of Paul’s photo on the mantel. I pulled back, trying to catch my breath, disoriented, like waking from a dream, my thoughts sluggish. Kevin was watching me, confusion in his eyes, and also concern, his breath ragged.
    I stood up. “I have to … I have to get something from the kitchen.”
    In the kitchen, still flustered, I started picking up our dishes and