My first mistake was locking eyes with you in a roomful of people who hated each other. We were on opposite sides of the battle, and finding someone who looked as bored as I was by the whole ridiculous rivalry startled me, but after we locked eyes, you didn’t look away, and neither did I. For a whole minute, we stared at each other while arguments erupted around us, not looking away from each other. Neither of us smiled; there was nothing funny about feeling so deeply attracted to someone on the opposite side. I wanted to look away and get my balance back, but I couldn’t, and neither could you. So we just kept our eyes locked on each other and stared.
My second mistake was answering your silent request and following you out when you stood up to leave. I was already bored by the situation and had been ready to go home. The only reason I was still there was because my ride was not ready to leave. So when you got up and looked back to make sure I understood the request, I took my purse and left the table, walking to the door to follow you. When I got to the door, I looked back at the chaos behind me and shook my head. Then I sent a text to my brother.
I’m heading home; see you tomorrow.
My third mistake was agreeing to let you drive me home. For the first half of the trip, we were too tense to talk much, only exchanging names and maintaining a casual conversation. The air was too thick with sexual tension. I was tipsy but not drunk; I just had enough alcohol in me to strip me of most of my usual inhibitions after meeting a new person. The last of it flew away when you had told me your name. I knew exactly who you were. I had heard enough about you from my brother to last me a lifetime, so I knew that you were the wrong person to have this kind of strong feelings for. But the only thing wrong with you was that you and my brother couldn’t stand each other. Everything else he had shared about you ticked all my boxes, and I wanted you—badly. I was tipsy and horny and hadn’t been intimate with anyone in six years. It was no wonder I was vibrating with so much need. My lady parts had remembered they had other uses besides being functional, and they were being loud about their excitement. When we arrived at my apartment, you parked and turned to me with an adorable half-smile. It made my heart quicken, and I felt my lips curve into something similar. You hadn’t touched me yet, but my whole body was humming because of your proximity, and I was getting flutters in my stomach.
My fourth mistake was saying yes when you asked to kiss me. The tension, the stolen glances, and the sexual atmosphere during the ride were all building up to that moment, and when you checked to ensure I wasn’t intoxicated, it only made you even more attractive. Then, in a low voice thick with restrained longing, you turned to me. “We just met, and I don’t want to rush you, but I want to kiss you so badly.”
How could I have said no? I wanted to kiss you just as badly. So I said yes and turned my head to meet you halfway. Your hands cradled my face as our lips met, and those two pecks before you took control of my lips loosened me up even more. I moaned in your mouth, relishing the gentle, deep kiss you were giving me. It felt so good—too good. I felt my nipples harden, and when you finally pulled back, I wondered if I looked as drunk as you did. As you stared at me with half-lidded eyes and my lip gloss smeared on your lips, you looked so sexy that it was no wonder I made my next mistake.
My fifth mistake was inviting you inside after you had kissed me senseless. You stared at me with those eyes filled with desire and asked me if I was sure. Was I? I wasn’t sure if it was a good idea, but I was certain that I wanted you to give my body a sexy workout. I wanted to cum all over your fingers as an introduction into what you could do to my sex-starved body. It was ironic that I hadn’t been hungry for sex until I locked eyes with you. I hadn’t been interested for years. But my body had recognised you and reacted in such a way that my brain struggled to catch up. So when you asked me if I was sure, my answer was “yes”. Definitely yes.
My sixth mistake was letting you hold my hand as we walked to my second-floor apartment. This was supposed to be a one-off scratching of a pent-up itch. Holding hands created some kind of intimacy that went beyond sex. It created a picture of two people who were returning from an amazing date. It caused more silly flutters in my stomach and alarm bells to ring in the self-preservation chamber in my head. But it felt comforting to have your warm hand wrapped around mine, so I allowed it and even threaded our fingers together until I had to free my hand to unlock the door.
My seventh mistake was letting you take over my mind and body. You touched and kissed me with so much passion—passion that was gentle but urgent. You made me feel as if you had been waiting for me all your life. Palms cupped my breasts, fingers slid down my loose pants into my panties, caressing before sliding inside me…eliciting moans and pleasure. Your tongue made love to my mouth while your fingers explored reverently. You made sure I understood that my pleasure came first, and you gave my body a treatment it would never forget. When you finally slipped into me, I was ready and aching—aching to be filled and consumed by your unbridled desire. In the dimly lit bedroom that was my sanctuary, you took over my thoughts and owned my body. And you left me sated, warm, and exhausted.
My eighth mistake was letting it happen again and again until my body knew yours and became addicted to it. I became addicted to your smell, your touch, your voice, and your presence. I knew it was a bad idea, but I allowed you to win me over and convince me to give you a chance. I shut the voice of self-preservation up and gave you the chance to make me happy.
My ninth mistake was falling head over heels in love with you. You liked to argue that you loved me more, and maybe you did, because you gave me everything I wanted and more. You showed me a glimpse of fairy-tale love and fought for us to be together in spite of the rivalry between our families. You gave me an experience many wish for but few ever find.
My tenth mistake was thinking it would last forever, or at least until we were both old and grey. Most of the time, when I remember you, the memories make me happy, but there are times like now, on the anniversary of your demise, when I miss you so much that I count every event that led to me being this way as a mistake. Because how could you make me fall in love with you when you had so little time left to live? How could you give me a glimpse of heaven when you knew I couldn’t have it for more than four months? It has been five years, but I still think of you and what you gave me in four months. I think of how you kept telling me that moments with me were the best you’d experienced. I remember each time you thanked me for accepting your love and allowing you to treasure me. I think of the love we shared in four months that changed me forever and left me still ridiculously in love with a dead man after five years. And I think of all the “mistakes” that led me here.
Babe, it was ten mistakes with you that led me here. But as hard as it is for me because I’ll never have you back, I would make them all over again to give you the best months of your life before our maker took you back.
