He walked away sadly with his head hung low which just further decreased my already depressed mood. I didn’t realize the effect I would have on everyone after being gone for so many years; I guess it was rather presumptuous of me to think they’d be happy to see me again. I tried to walk back to my seat when a strong hand grasped mine from behind.

“Eden, would you do me the honor of dancing with me?” His voice was slight as if he was almost unsure of himself. That wasn’t the Baylor that I once knew, the old Baylor was confident in everything and never held any doubt.

I stood there rooted to the spot as I glanced down at where ours hands connected and then back into Baylor’s emerald eyes. My nipples immediately pebbled underneath my dress and the desire that burned deep in my core just from this one simple touch was an inferno. I was no longer on the verge of being tipsy from my previous alcohol consumption, no, I was suddenly stone-cold sober. If I responded to him this way just from a mindless touch, what would happen if he were to actually kiss me again as he did all those years ago? I couldn’t let it to get to that point; hell, I didn’t even know if he had feelings towards me anymore or if he was even married.

Swallowing past the lump that was in my throat, I nodded my head. Call me a glutton for punishment but I wanted to hear what he had to say. My curiosity always had gotten the best of me; I wanted to know what he’d been up to all these years.

He pulled me onto the dance floor and clutched me in his embrace much like Dean had but it felt so different. Instead of the junior high hand placement, he drew my right hand up with his left and held it so that it rested against his heart while his free hand wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer to him. His rapid heartbeat was the first thing I noticed because it matched my own. He was affected by this just as much as I was. The ring finger on his left hand was bare, which was the next thing I noticed. All of my senses were hyper-aware; my body melted into his as I filled my nostrils with his scent.

The song began playing and we started swaying back and forth with the smallest of actions. I couldn’t look him in the eyes, because I didn’t want to begin the backlash on either of our parts so I focused all of my attention on our joined hands until he finally spoke.

“Do you know this song?” What was with everyone asking me if I knew certain songs? So I thought I would tell him exactly what all I knew about this song…

“”(You Want To) Make A Memory” by Bon Jovi. From their tenth album entitled “Lost Highway.” I believe it was released in March of 2007 but I wouldn’t quote me on the exact day.” The look on his face was too much for me, so I tipped my head back and let out a hearty laugh.

“God, it’s so great to see your smile,” he said without breaking eye contact. With our eyes we portrayed every single feeling that we had felt while we had been apart. In this moment I had never felt more exposed or on display and it all happened just looking into the depths of each other’s souls.

I averted my eyes, looking down at our interlocked hands once again, “I’m a radio DJ, and music trivia is kind of my thing.”

“I remember…”

I felt like it was my turn to ask a question but I hadn’t planned on what came flying out of my mouth next. “Are you married?” I couldn’t believe that I had let it slip; in my line of work I had to be careful of thinking before I spoke, otherwise I could end up saying something completely offensive on the air.

He released a long, drawn-out deep sigh, which forced me to hold my breath as I began to regret my line of questioning until he answered, “Once upon a time I was, but that ship has long since sailed.”

Without a beat I had to know, “To Kristina?”

Another sigh escaped, “Yeah, to Kristina.”

Deep in my heart I knew he had married her. That would mean that the girl I saw at the airport was most likely hers.

“So was Dean your divorce lawyer?”

“Yeah, how’d you guess?” He asked with a bit of annoyance.

I shrugged a shoulder; I had really just assumed that he’d volunteer to represent him. Back then Dean hated Kristina just as much as I did. “Dean just never really was fond of her back in the day, so I figured he’d snap up the chance to show her what for.”

“You really aren’t wrong there. He was able to get me full custody of my daughter, Norah. It wasn’t like Kristina wanted much to do with her anyway.” My heart felt heavy in my chest for what his daughter must have been going through. If I were ever awarded with the chance to have a child there would be nothing that would stand in the way of that happiness.

He audibly swallowed which had my eyes snapping back up to his. “What about you?” he began, “is your husband good to you? I know I don’t see him here tonight and I didn’t see him at the airport, did he not join you?”

I felt my eyebrows lift clear into my hairline. What on earth was he talking about? “I don’t understand. I don’t have a husband, I’ve never been married. Hell, I’ve never even been close to marriage.”

The movement of his legs stopped instantly as he immediately dropped his arms away from me, almost as if my answer had burned his skin. “You’re not married?” He asked, flabbergasted.

“No…” I didn’t know how else to say the word.

“But your mom…”

Oh this was something that I had to hear, “My mom, what?”

“I wanted to know how your life was going, so a few years ago I asked your mom how you were. She kept boasting and rambling on and on about how fabulous your life was with your husband. So I dropped it and hadn’t asked about you since.”

I felt my blood pressure rise for the millionth time tonight but now it was because of pure rage. I saw red and was on the verge of seething. “Oh that’s rich, my mom meddles in my life extremely too much. Here lately she’s been trying to play matchmaker, even to the point of having my coworkers in on it and making a segment on the show every week about my blind dates. And then she tells the one person who I’ve ever loved that I was married.” I kept going on and on, pacing back and forth in front of Baylor in the middle of the floor. The Bon Jovi song had ended, changing to some sort of upbeat tune, but I was too pissed to even realize what it was.

“Wait, what did you just say? The one person you ever loved…me?” He kept on searching my eyes for his answer. Shit, did I actually say that? I couldn’t remember what had just come spewing out of my mouth.

I quickly shook my head; I didn’t need him to know my stance on things. He didn’t need the leverage against me, especially when I hadn’t gotten to the bottom of everything that had happened. “What? No…I didn’t say that. You must’ve misconstrued what I was saying. Listen,” I stopped pacing and perched one hand on my hip and the other against my head, “I’ve gotta go, my mom has a lot of explaining to do.”

Pivoting on my foot, I fled out the door before ever giving him the opportunity to respond. Bette Richardt had meddled around in my life for the last time.

It didn’t take me long at all to get home and even those few minutes did nothing to dissipate my rage. I slammed the door to my mother’s car and then stomped my feet all the way up the pathway to the front door. Once I made it inside I felt the need to destroy something so I slammed the front door as well, but it woke my father up from his position on his recliner making him almost jump out of his skin. “Eden! What the…?” He yelled as he tried to push the footrest of the chair back in place.

“Sorry, Daddy,” I snapped as I marched into the kitchen. “Mother!”

“What, dear?” She said as she came up behind me, drying her hands on an apple-patterned dish towel.

I pointed a finger in her direction, “You have a lot of explaining to do!”