This is a draft chapter from The Star-Crossed Codex.

Thursday I went to the bakery, which is across from the music shop, for a loaf of bread.  They also had a peppermint chocolate bar that was calling my name so I bought one of those as well.  I went out, turned right, and glanced toward the music store and the door opened.  Alana stepped out.  

“John, how are you?” She said with a warm smile that wasn’t there the first time we talked.  The day we talked, she was friendly and open and we talked about everything just as naturally as if we’d been best friends for years.  It was unique for me, and I became smitten despite her lack of overt interest, hoping against hope that her chattiness was something other than her default setting.  Our chat seemed to border on flirting in the distant and vague manner of the people of the Aisles, but didn’t really reach a level that gave me confidence of it.  To be fair, my own chatter barely ventured beyond friendliness.  I’d eventually asked her name very easily as if it were natural to do so, and told her my own, and we’d bid each other good day in a very pleasant manner that made it feel like we both looked forward to crossing paths again soon.  But that was a few days ago, and I told myself she’s just a friendly shop girl.  

“Fine,” I said with a smile. “How are you, Alana?  How’s your father?”  I crossed the street to stand near her.

She stood close to me, hands in her pockets, looking cold.  “He’s doing better, thanks.”  And then she put her hand on my arm.  “What are you doing this weekend?” She asked in a hushed tone, a hint of a mischievous smile on her lips. 

Surprised at her cheekiness, I assumed she was going to tell me about a musical event in town, since I’d asked her about that the other day.  I said, “I’m going to the National Museum of Aviation Saturday.”

“Ooh, that sounds fun.  What about Sunday?”

“I have no plans Sunday,” I said with a grin.

She smiled and said, “Do you want to go for a motorcycle ride?”

I grinned wider and after a mere fraction of a second of deliberation, which I forced my overthinking brain to abandon, I said, “Yes, I’d love that!”

She smiled and I definitely saw a twinkle in her eyes for the first time.  With a slight bounce of her knees, she said, “Meet me here at ten Sunday morning, then.” 

“I will! But I’ll warn you, I’ve never ridden before so you’ll have to be gentle.”

She winked and said, touching my arm again, “Don’t worry, I will.” 

“What about your other half,” I asked. 

“What about your wife?” She replied. 

I smiled broadly, we gazed into each other’s eyes, and I said as I touched her arm, “See you Sunday, Alana.”

I carefully timed my arrival at the shop for a few minutes past ten, just to make her worry a bit. The morning chill still lingered and I was glad I’d brought a scarf.  As I rounded the corner, I saw her standing in front of the shop scanning the street, her bike at rest, and I saw two helmets. She looked toward me and smiled. “Good morning, Alana. It’s a beautiful day for a ride.” 

She nodded and grinned, our eyes meeting in a lingering glance. “I have a helmet for you, Are you ready?” 

“I am! Where are we headed?” 

“Oh, I don’t know yet, I guess we’ll find out when we get there,” she said, and at that moment I fell deeply in love with her. 

“Sounds perfect to me.” 

She handed me a helmet and said, “You’ll want gloves, and wrap that scarf higher around your neck; the wind can get cold.”

With both of our helmets on and ready to go, I watched her mount with a deft dexterity, and I straddled the seat behind her. She turned her head and said, “You can put your arms around me if you need,” 

The idea excited me, but I kept my hands on my knees for the time being. She kicked the motorcycle to life, turned to look for traffic, and gently headed us down the road as I did my best to keep my expectations in check, thinking myself no better than a grown up school boy.

We turned onto a country road and traffic was light. As we turned I put my arms around her waist and she accelerated up the hill. The motor droned louder as the road wound and twisted, we leaned into each curve, my grip on her tightening when needed. My unfamiliarity and anxiety over the bike had quickly given way to exhilaration and I felt safe in Alana’s hands.  After what felt like hours of this new and delightful experience to me, we reached the top of the hill. We slowed and she reached out her boot to steady us as we come to a stop. She switched off the bike and the world was suddenly dead silent.  We took off our helmets and I smiled as I took in the panorama of the Scottish Borders. Then I looked into Alana’s eyes and said, “This is amazing.” 

“It really is, isn’t it?” She said. A chilling breeze fluttered through her blonde hair and she said, “It’s colder than I expected.” 

“It is a bit chilly,” I said.

She stepped toward me and said, “Ooh, you’re blocking the wind, thanks.” 

“Here, I’ll warm you up,” I said.  Before I knew what I was doing and could let myself overthink things, I slid my arms inside her leather jacket and held her. She didn’t protest, instead wrapping her arms around my waist, head resting on my chest. Wisps of her hair rose before my face in the breeze and my heart pounded.  I felt butterflies in my gut.  I was afraid to speak for fear of breaking the spell I felt I had cast. She turned and, without breaking my embrace, faced away from me. My hands encircled her belly and she placed hers on mine as we gazed out into the far distance of the Scottish countryside. 

She said, “I love coming up here, it’s so peaceful. It’s like my private sanctuary. You said you were running away from home, John.  This is where I run away to.”   

I tightened my embrace for a moment.  “It’s a perfect place to run away to. All it needs is a small cabin,” I said.

“That’s what I was thinking too,” she said, turning to face me again. She looked up into my eyes.

I saw in her eyes a new warmth that wasn’t there before, showing me that we have connected. Her smile relaxed, and I sensed that she felt our connection as well. I pondered whether I should take a chance and kiss her, or was it too soon. Suddenly, she decided for me. “Tell me about your life, John,” she said in a soft voice. 

I tilted my head, holding her gaze, my smile remaining. I shook my head. “No, Alana. Perhaps later. Right now, I want to enjoy this moment.” 

She held me tighter. “You’re a wise man. I knew that the moment I met you.”   She looked up at me and placed her hand on my cheek, and ran her fingers through my hair. My breathing became shallow, my heart raced. I made a small move toward her, and as if that were the very signal she was waiting for, suddenly our mouths are together. Her warm lips sent electric energy through me.

As her breath rushed from her nose across my face, our tongues found each others and we kissed with a passion I’d only felt for Lauren. As we slowly broke our kiss, I brushed a strand of hair from her face and smiled. “I’m not getting you in trouble, am I?” 

She smiled and shook her head. “He’s not much of a boyfriend, really. Besides, how’s he going to know? And what about you?” 

I gazed into the distance. “She’ll never know. And I’m divorcing her soon.” She tightened her arms around me. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, Alana, it’s been coming for a long time. Neither of us was unfaithful, and I don’t really feel like I’m- “ I stopped myself.  “I don’t wand to spoil this moment with technicalities.”

She looked up at me. “I understand.” We kissed again, I felt our bodies energize with each other’s pent-up longing for connection.

We held hands and walked toward a fallen tree, the only place to sit. Our thighs touching and our hands clasped, we gazed into the distance. “What is life all about, John?” 

I let her question sink in, my eyes following a train far away, then a crow soaring in the near distance. “This. This is what life’s about, Alana. Moments of joy, shared with others, no regrets.  Is there anything better?” 

She squeezed my hand, and replied with a quiver in her voice. “No, there really isn’t.” Sensing she may be breaking down, I put my arm around her and pulled her to me. 

“When I leave, Alana, we’ll always have this memory. Keep it inside you.” 

“I don’t want you to leave,” she said. “Can’t you stay?” 

I squeezed her waist. “I would if I could. I have to weigh the consequences.”

She nodded. “I know. I’m just being a silly girl. You have your life, I have mine.” 

“No,” I said, “you’re not being silly. I feel the same way you do.” 

“I was just picturing myself meeting your daughters, and being embarrassed because I’m their age. Maybe that’ll be ok. I don’t know. They’ll probably hate me. Or hate you for being with someone their age.” 

“Don’t worry, Alana. Don’t overthink it. This is 2026, people do what they’re going to do. Besides, meeting them is a long way off. Or, if I stay here without going back to take care of loose ends, they’ll have to come find me.” I laugh softly. “Not that I don’t want them to find me, of course. I’d love for them to come live here with me, but that’s up to them.”

”What if they find you living with me?” She said with a soft laugh.  

“Oh, that would be wonderful,” I said.

“I know we only met the other day,” she said, looking at the ground, “but silly girls think like that, you know.  I’m sorry if it’s too much too soon.”  She lifted her eyes to mine, furrowing her brow.

“Oh Alana, I love how you put your thoughts right out there.  You’re not afraid to be vulnerable and let me judge you.  But I won’t judge you.  I honestly like you.”

She smiled and released a breath through her nose.  “I appreciate hearing that more than if you’d said, ‘I love you.’  People say, ‘I love you,’ too freely sometimes.”

“Oh, I know.  I absolutely ache to say it to you, Alana, but I know it’s a silly schoolboy thing to say.  But I hope one day I will say it.”

She leaned toward me and rested her head against my shoulder.  Our hands remained clasped, resting on our thighs.  It was a moment of tenderness I hoped I would carry in my memory till the day I die.  I heard her sniff, and thought it was the chill until she sniffed again like a gasp.  I noticed her chest heave as if she were about to cry.  “Alana,” I whispered.  

She squeezed my hand harder and a tear rolled down her cheek, meeting my coat and soaking into the wool.  “Alana,” I said, as if that were a complete sentence in itself.  I placed my free hand on her cheek and kissed her forehead.  I kissed the tears that rolled down her face as she silently pleaded to me with her eyes.  I kissed her lips and she put both arms around me in a fiercely possessive gesture as we lost ourselves in the heat of passion.

As our moment of passion eased, she patted my thigh and took in a deep breath.  I watched her, wondering where her mind, her heart, was taking her but she sat quietly gazing into the distance.  Though it took a significant amount of willpower, I allowed her to ruminate without interruption.  Finally, I joined her in gazing into the distance, feeling the air become warmer, the breeze abating, and blue sky appearing now between clouds.  

“John,” she said, letting the word hang in the air as if she intended to add something to it.  Finally she continued, “I don’t know how you do it.  I feel like I’ve known you all my life.  It’s like you just get me. You know how to handle me, and that’s not easy.” She laughed softly, a nervous laughter that betrayed insecurity.  

“I’m no genius,” I said.  Unsure of how to respond to her further, a thought occurred to me.  “Maybe I’ve let myself be hurt enough to have learned when to shut up.”  

She let my hand go and caressed my thigh.  “I’m sorry.  Was it your wife who hurt you?”

I nodded, savoring her touch.  “But she did it because I let her.  And it wasn’t just her, I never really learned how to be in a relationship.  A healthy one, that is.  I was making it up as I went along and made a lot of mistakes I didn’t learn from until recently.  I suppose it’s better late than never, eh?”

“I was feeling sorry for myself for being single and thirty,” she said.  “So don’t feel bad, no one taught me anything either.”

“I’m not sure anyone’s ever taught that sort of thing.  I suppose that’s why relationships are so notoriously bad these days.  In the days of arranged marriages it didn’t matter.  Find your fun somewhere but come home to your spouse.”

“But you didn’t do that, you said.”

“No.  I got married quickly, because I thought she was the best I could expect to find, and she reminded me a bit of a previous lover who I still had strong feelings for.”

“Oh?  What happened to her?”

I looked at the ground.  “It was a summer job, I had to leave.  Our bosses told us to knock it off and like an idiot I was more loyal to the boss than to the woman I loved.  Then, there’s the inconvenient fact that she was married.”  Having allowed those words out of my mouth, I was pleased at how smoothly they flowed and didn’t care how Alana reacted.

“A little like us, eh?,” she said.  

“A lot like us.  Only now, I’m older and slightly wiser.”

“Yet, here we are.”

I looked into her eyes.  “Here we are, indeed.  And I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else right now.”

Alana giggled.  “Nor would I, John.  I don’t understand a bit of this, but I’m having a really nice time with you.  It shouldn’t work.  You’re my dad’s age, we’re both spoken for, I don’t know…”

“None of that matters, my friend.  Well, to others it does; but we’re here on this hilltop and the others aren’t here.  We’re sharing something special.  Call it whatever you want, I think we both need this.”

“You’ve been so kind and understanding.  And you’re the best kisser I’ve ever known,” she said with a laugh that was like sunshine glinting off the surface of a pond.  

I shrugged.  “You inspire me.”

We continued to sit in silence, simply existing in each other’s aura of warmth, for what felt like a very long time.  The urge to fill a silence is usually strong, but neither of us seemed compelled to do so, and it was a magical interlude.

“Is there anywhere to eat around here?” I eventually asked. 

“Yeah, down the other side there’s a nice place. Come on!” She jumped up and we stepped toward her bike. She fired it up and we rolled down the hillside together, eventually coming to a stop at a cafe.

Our lunch and the ride back were quiet, we exchanged few words but our glances spoke for us.  We held hands and smiled a lot, and when I left her at the shop I had no idea that it was the last time I would ever see Alana.