Everything had to be perfect. His favorite wine, a single red rose in a slim glass vase decorating the small table. She had arranged for dinner to be served in their room at eight on the dot. He liked everything detailed and he was always punctual.
She smoothed the satin coverlet she purchased for the occasion and fluffed the generous hotel pillows. Checking herself in the full length mirror she noticed a slight smudge of the bright red lipstick he preferred she wear. She found a matching red silk dress, low cut with a thigh high split just as he wanted. She tried to be specific in every detail.
She glanced at the time, seven-thirty. He should be at the door by now. She took a last look at herself and then posed alluringly on the edge of the bed. After quite a few minutes, she shifted her position. He was never late. She started to worry something happened, had he changed his mind? Did he find out her secret? She started to dread his coming, how he would react. He must have found out, otherwise he would be here. She was stupid to think he’d never find out about her past, now it was over. She felt defeated, used, and sorry for herself. She stood up to get her coat.
A key turned in the lock, he walked in. She tried to recover, act as if she hadn’t had those thoughts, didn’t want him to know.
He walked over and took her in his arms. “It’s all right, I know. It doesn’t matter.”