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You and Me [Fernando Torres]

[01: I’m So Sorry]

The wine bottles on the floor shone in the dim light of the morning, acting as a reminder to the events that had occurred the night previous. They were strewn across the floor carelessly, joined by article after article of clothing, making the evening’s events all to obvious to him as he watched her beside him, guilt and worry evident on his otherwise handsome face. It shouldn’t have happened, he was in difficulties yes, but that was no excuse. He should have never let it happen, not with her at least. She was his best friend, more of a sister than a lover, he should never have come back with her the night before. It simply wasn’t fair.

Moving to stand from the bed, he noticed her stir, a sight that made his heart jolt uncomfortably. He didn’t want her to remember what had happened, he didn’t want her to think he didn’t care, but he had to go. It was still early, his wife would still be sleeping and he knew he had to get back before she woke. He didn’t want to give her more reasons to fight, they were doing plenty of that as it was. Lifting his shirt from the ground, he smiled slightly, the memories of the previous night lighting his eyes. Innocent. It had been innocent from the start. A friendly drink with a friend he’d not seen in forever, but then the truths had started to flow.

He and his wife weren’t on the best of terms.

She and her boyfriend had cooled things off again.

He wanted to go back to Liverpool.

She wanted out of the city.

He missed her.

She missed him.

It’d all transpired from there. She was a little drunk. She’d never been the best at holding her alcohol and he’d offered to take her home. She’d insisted she could do it herself, that’s she’d had enough experience to manage, but he was insistent and took her to his car, driving her back to the hotel she was staying in. He should have said his goodnight then, but the offer of coffee was to enticing and he wandered inside without a second thought. Instead of coffee they’d enjoyed wine, three and half bottle to be precise before it happened. He didn’t know what he’d been thinking, he didn’t know why he’d acted so out of character, but he had. When she’d leaned over the table to refill the crystal glass that had shone in her hand, he pressed his mouth to hers hungrily and kissed her with all the passion he’d not felt in months for his wife. It shouldn’t have happened, but it had and there was nothing he could do now but leave and hope that she could forgive him.

Buttoning the white shirt up, he spared another look towards her face, admiring the serene beauty that she was. He’d always thought she was beautiful and, perhaps in another life where there was no wife or children, he would have made a move on her. But he did have a wife and children, a wife and children he loved with the whole of his heart. Sighing gently, he leant across to her slightly, his soft lips gently kissing her forehead. “I’m so sorry for this Isobel”� he whimpered as he pushed her dark hair away from her eyes. “I’m sorry”� he muttered once more before he slipped his feet into his shoes and wrapped his jacket around his shoulders. He debated for a moment whether to leave a note for her, to write an explanation of his actions, but decided not to. Isobel was an intelligent girl, she would figure things out. Placing one last soft kiss against the skin of her forehead, he moved towards the door, shutting it softly behind him.

Hearing the slightly click of the door, Isobel lifted her head from the pillow, a slight grimace on her face as the effects of her hangover became apparent. Placing one palm to her pounding head, she used the other to push herself from the mattress, a sense of disappointment filling her as she noted the empty pillow beside her own. She’d been drunk, completely out of it, but she still knew what had happened, it was something she’d wanted to happen since she’d met him. At first, it’d been superficial, she’d been attracted to his looks, nothing more. But as time had gone by and they’d grown close, she’d fallen for everything else he brought along with his handsome face. She’d fallen for the way he could make her laugh without meaning to. She’d fallen for the way he would always make her blush when he dedicated a goal to her. She’d fallen for the way his body almost seemed perfect when it held hers in a hug.

It was all far fetched fantasy of course. She knew where the line sat, he was a married man and she would never push him into anything that could make him lose that, but she’d thought the previous night meant something to him like it had to her. Something she was clearly wrong about noting his absence from her side. She knew where he’d be, tucked up beside his wife as if nothing had changed, it hadn’t for him, but for her it had. She knew she would never be able to move past it, the one night she’d spent with the one man she loved, but she also knew it would never mean a thing. It was mistake to him even it meant the world to her.

Sighing gently, she placed her head back onto her pillow, a few solitary tears slipping from her eyes as the scent of his musty aftershave plied her nostrils. Stroking the empty spot slightly, she closed her eyes. “It’s not worth it”� she whispered to herself. “He’s married”� she added, making herself flinch. The mere idea that there was another woman in his life made her feel sick. It was a mistake what they’d done, a painful one at that, but she’d never forget. Never.

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