Joy

"The thing I've learned from you is to find the beauty in every moment," Cormac said as Darcy shifted in the bed. "No matter the struggle you find the joy."

Darcy was scared of men who thought they had insights into her. Cormac had said that she'd always been honest and tonight her fear was sincere. She didn't like it when people knew too much about her past. But this time he was right.

Darcy and Cormac had been spooned tight most of the night laughing at the ghosts of their past relationship. Now the conversation had focused on Darcy. Cormac had focused on one of her strengths, an asset she'd worked years to perfect. Life had handed her many tragedies and she learned to smile through the tears. Darcy hugged him, wrapping her body around him feeling vulnerable and beautiful and invincible all at once.

They talked on through the night about things that were inconsequential to lovers seeking a night of refuge: friends in common, laughs remembered, times shared.

Darcy was slipping into slumber and looking forward to waking up to a warm body; however, Cormac disappeared into the small hours. "I promise I'll spend the night again," he whispered with a breathy kiss.

Darcy preferred to have him stay the night. Waking up next to someone made her feel like less of a whore, made her forget the passion of the night before. Waking up alone with strange tastes in her mouth and smells in her bed reminded her it was only one night.