Her smile confirmed Patrick’s assumption that she was in no rush to leave, even though George was waiting for her at home. He moved slowly, enjoying the ritual of putting ice into their glasses, of gently pouring the precious amber liquid over the ice and hearing it float and strike the sides of the glasses.
“Here you are; you should enjoy this, it’s a special edition from the Islay Distillery, I was lucky to find it.”
They sat there, gently sipping their drinks, the silence hanging between them was not quite uncomfortable, but it was not a familiar or welcome one either.
“Patrick, why did you ask me to come here this evening?”
He took another sip of his drink and then placed it on the desk, before rising out of his chair and walking over to Serena’s chair. She looked up at him as he took her glass from her hands and put it aside as well.
“Patrick?”
He placed his hand on her cheek and moved closer, intending to kiss her. She thought about it for a moment, and then she let it happen.
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