12-08-2026, 03:47 PM
MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 12, 2005 -- 7 P.M.
We sat at a table in The Top Floor restaurant located on the 15th floor of the Barnett Bank Building looking out into the gathering darkness and over the city of Jacksonville. I had promised Aline this view until we were hijacked by my family on our birthday. Now she was going to have it, just before she left, probably forever.
I’d ordered grilled Tilapia, the first step I’d have to take in the penance for the over eating and lack of gym time while Aline had been in town. Aline ordered the restaurant’s version of Chicken Breast Coq Au Vin. Probably not what she’d find in a true Parisian eatery, but close enough for Jacksonville.
We sat uncharacteristically silent. Normally the conversation flowed easily, as we talked about anything and everything, except those forbidden areas we knew to avoid. But now the silence lay like a heavy shroud over us.
We ate, Aline interspersing bites of chicken with sips of red wine, myself sipping at coffee because I knew Knight had meant what he said.
I knew he’d have cops shadowing me, regardless of what they were supposed to be doing officially. And if I was spotted drinking anything alcoholic and I didn’t walk and drive an exact, geometrically straight line he’d have me pulled over.
I didn’t think he’d frame me, because he wasn’t that kind of guy and he knew that even if Edwards was unhappy with me, framing a prosecutor would start a cold war that would blow up in everybody’s face. But if I gave him the opportunity to take me out, he’d run with it.
“It’s nothing like the Eifel Tower,” I said, gesturing to the view of Jacksonville from 130 feet up. “But I hope you remember it.”
It was the closest I could come to saying that she would remember it because she wouldn’t be here.
I hadn’t checked her luggage, hadn’t checked her out at all, but she had to have an airline ticket for the flight home to Paris. We hadn’t talked about what we’d do on Tuesday, how she’d get to the airport. Or even that she would be going to the airport.
Maybe we should have, but if we did, it would become real. And I wanted to keep these last few moments between us free from the curse of reality.
When we finished our meals and paid, she said, “Could we drive to St.
Augustine tonight. Is it too late. I’d like to walk the beach one last time.” “No, it’s not too late.”
We went by the condo and picked up blankets and I headed out I-95 and took the third St. Augustine exit which would take us directly to the beach and bypass most of the city. We drove to Matanzas and I parked in the little pull off area. There were two other cars, but the occupants were too busy with each other to notice us.
We crossed the highway and walked down to the water, blankets over my shoulders. We stood hand in hand watching the breakers slowly roll ashore under the light of a half moon. It seemed to float on the water, but I thought Aline was looking much further, toward home.
We walked into the dunes and she was out of her clothes in an instant and had me down on the blankets, stripping me. When we were down, she attacked me. Sucking, stroking, pulling, flipping around to lower her steamy pussy dripping into my mouth while sucking and nibbling on my dick and balls.
I didn’t think I was that much in the mood but in two minutes I was holding her ass with both hands and trying not to drown as I bucked up and came and came into her mouth. Before I could catch my breath she had flipped around and was licking my face clean of her juices,
Then she slid down me to suck me and get me hard again and rising above me, she slammed down on my cock so hard that it hurt and I imagine she hurt too, but she just pounded it again and again until I couldn’t hold back and came again inside her.
We lay there, both of us gasping as an ocean breeze rustled the cattails around us. I didn’t have to look at her, didn’t have to be a mind reader, to know that this had been a goodbye fuck.
She raised her head to look at me and said, “Can we walk on the beach one more time, Bill. And then I need to get back to the condo and get some sleep.”
She didn’t add, “so I’ll be ready to leave early in the morning,” but I heard the words.
We walked on the beach and we went back to the condo and we both showered and got ready for the next day and she lay down next to me but not wrapping herself around me as she had. She moved close enough to me to touch but turned her back to me and after she thought I’d gone to sleep she began to cry.
There is something ineffably, unutterably, sad about a woman trying to cry softly in the darkness next to you. When you can’t reach out to comfort her.
I made myself sleep. I might have dreamt it, but I think she kissed me on the lips.
And when my alarm went off at 6 a.m., I was alone in my bed. I lay there for what seemed a long time. There was still a slight warmth on the bed sheets where she should have been. I ran my hand over the empty space.
Finally I knew I had to get up because I had a job and a life to go back to. I rolled out of bed and padded to the closet and grabbed clothes. I dressed, made my way to the bathroom and pissed, brushed my teeth and made myself presentable. Then I went to the kitchen and would have hit the coffee maker ‘on’ switch, but somebody already had.
I poured myself a cup, poured in some diet French Vanilla creamer and walked over to the kitchen/dining room table.
As I’d known there would be, there was a piece of cream colored parchment sitting in the center of the table. Aline’s precise, tight letters covered it. I took a sip of coffee so hot it burned the roof of my mouth which gave me an excuse to have my eyes water, and picked up the paper.
“Dearest Bill,
“You know by now that I am on my way to the airport. And you know that I am a coward. But I could not say goodbye to you because I did not know if I could walk away from you if I were looking into your eyes. And I have to go back.
“No matter what Philippe has done with other women, he has not violated the rules of our marriage. I have. I have to face him, to see if we still have a marriage. I will not know until I stand in front of him.
“ But more than that, I have to go back for Andre. I told you that I love you and I do. But if I leave Philippe for you, I will be leaving Andre as well. I know that I will never be able to take him away from Philippe. And I cannot leave Andre. He is only a little boy and he would never understand why his mother abandoned him.
“It is time to leave, Bill. My heart feels like it is tearing in two. I expect that you will hate me. But, I had to come to you, and I have to leave you. Please
I prepared my briefcase with the documents I’d need for the coming day and before I walked out the door I took a quick look around. It was back to simply being a condo again. I closed my eyes for a moment and thought I could almost catch a hint of her fragrance.
I had lied to her and myself all along. Two weeks is not forever. It can’t be.
It’s just two weeks.
We sat at a table in The Top Floor restaurant located on the 15th floor of the Barnett Bank Building looking out into the gathering darkness and over the city of Jacksonville. I had promised Aline this view until we were hijacked by my family on our birthday. Now she was going to have it, just before she left, probably forever.
I’d ordered grilled Tilapia, the first step I’d have to take in the penance for the over eating and lack of gym time while Aline had been in town. Aline ordered the restaurant’s version of Chicken Breast Coq Au Vin. Probably not what she’d find in a true Parisian eatery, but close enough for Jacksonville.
We sat uncharacteristically silent. Normally the conversation flowed easily, as we talked about anything and everything, except those forbidden areas we knew to avoid. But now the silence lay like a heavy shroud over us.
We ate, Aline interspersing bites of chicken with sips of red wine, myself sipping at coffee because I knew Knight had meant what he said.
I knew he’d have cops shadowing me, regardless of what they were supposed to be doing officially. And if I was spotted drinking anything alcoholic and I didn’t walk and drive an exact, geometrically straight line he’d have me pulled over.
I didn’t think he’d frame me, because he wasn’t that kind of guy and he knew that even if Edwards was unhappy with me, framing a prosecutor would start a cold war that would blow up in everybody’s face. But if I gave him the opportunity to take me out, he’d run with it.
“It’s nothing like the Eifel Tower,” I said, gesturing to the view of Jacksonville from 130 feet up. “But I hope you remember it.”
It was the closest I could come to saying that she would remember it because she wouldn’t be here.
I hadn’t checked her luggage, hadn’t checked her out at all, but she had to have an airline ticket for the flight home to Paris. We hadn’t talked about what we’d do on Tuesday, how she’d get to the airport. Or even that she would be going to the airport.
Maybe we should have, but if we did, it would become real. And I wanted to keep these last few moments between us free from the curse of reality.
When we finished our meals and paid, she said, “Could we drive to St.
Augustine tonight. Is it too late. I’d like to walk the beach one last time.” “No, it’s not too late.”
We went by the condo and picked up blankets and I headed out I-95 and took the third St. Augustine exit which would take us directly to the beach and bypass most of the city. We drove to Matanzas and I parked in the little pull off area. There were two other cars, but the occupants were too busy with each other to notice us.
We crossed the highway and walked down to the water, blankets over my shoulders. We stood hand in hand watching the breakers slowly roll ashore under the light of a half moon. It seemed to float on the water, but I thought Aline was looking much further, toward home.
We walked into the dunes and she was out of her clothes in an instant and had me down on the blankets, stripping me. When we were down, she attacked me. Sucking, stroking, pulling, flipping around to lower her steamy pussy dripping into my mouth while sucking and nibbling on my dick and balls.
I didn’t think I was that much in the mood but in two minutes I was holding her ass with both hands and trying not to drown as I bucked up and came and came into her mouth. Before I could catch my breath she had flipped around and was licking my face clean of her juices,
Then she slid down me to suck me and get me hard again and rising above me, she slammed down on my cock so hard that it hurt and I imagine she hurt too, but she just pounded it again and again until I couldn’t hold back and came again inside her.
We lay there, both of us gasping as an ocean breeze rustled the cattails around us. I didn’t have to look at her, didn’t have to be a mind reader, to know that this had been a goodbye fuck.
She raised her head to look at me and said, “Can we walk on the beach one more time, Bill. And then I need to get back to the condo and get some sleep.”
She didn’t add, “so I’ll be ready to leave early in the morning,” but I heard the words.
We walked on the beach and we went back to the condo and we both showered and got ready for the next day and she lay down next to me but not wrapping herself around me as she had. She moved close enough to me to touch but turned her back to me and after she thought I’d gone to sleep she began to cry.
There is something ineffably, unutterably, sad about a woman trying to cry softly in the darkness next to you. When you can’t reach out to comfort her.
I made myself sleep. I might have dreamt it, but I think she kissed me on the lips.
And when my alarm went off at 6 a.m., I was alone in my bed. I lay there for what seemed a long time. There was still a slight warmth on the bed sheets where she should have been. I ran my hand over the empty space.
Finally I knew I had to get up because I had a job and a life to go back to. I rolled out of bed and padded to the closet and grabbed clothes. I dressed, made my way to the bathroom and pissed, brushed my teeth and made myself presentable. Then I went to the kitchen and would have hit the coffee maker ‘on’ switch, but somebody already had.
I poured myself a cup, poured in some diet French Vanilla creamer and walked over to the kitchen/dining room table.
As I’d known there would be, there was a piece of cream colored parchment sitting in the center of the table. Aline’s precise, tight letters covered it. I took a sip of coffee so hot it burned the roof of my mouth which gave me an excuse to have my eyes water, and picked up the paper.
“Dearest Bill,
“You know by now that I am on my way to the airport. And you know that I am a coward. But I could not say goodbye to you because I did not know if I could walk away from you if I were looking into your eyes. And I have to go back.
“No matter what Philippe has done with other women, he has not violated the rules of our marriage. I have. I have to face him, to see if we still have a marriage. I will not know until I stand in front of him.
“ But more than that, I have to go back for Andre. I told you that I love you and I do. But if I leave Philippe for you, I will be leaving Andre as well. I know that I will never be able to take him away from Philippe. And I cannot leave Andre. He is only a little boy and he would never understand why his mother abandoned him.
“It is time to leave, Bill. My heart feels like it is tearing in two. I expect that you will hate me. But, I had to come to you, and I have to leave you. Please
forgive me,
Aline.”
I read it a dozen times, but the words never changed. I held my left hand up and watched the light dance on the white gold and silver of her Fleur-de-Lis ring and realized I’d never be able to take it off.I prepared my briefcase with the documents I’d need for the coming day and before I walked out the door I took a quick look around. It was back to simply being a condo again. I closed my eyes for a moment and thought I could almost catch a hint of her fragrance.
I had lied to her and myself all along. Two weeks is not forever. It can’t be.
It’s just two weeks.
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