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Beneath a blinding bright, full moon, you leaned toward me. We were friends then so I was expecting a warm cheek nuzzle, a "thanks for bringing me here, it's beautiful". Instead you kissed me. You gave me your hot mouth and your hope sparkled eyes.

This was wrong, all wrong. Even the moon was wrong. I wasn't ready for floodlit treachery. I wasn't ready for the necessary lies. So I stepped back and looked at you. We didn't say anything. Then you started to sob. My arms encircled your shuddering body; you were retching misery. You held me hard, as though a life were at stake, and I suppose it was.

Then I thought about the lies I had already told. How I blessed you both. How I helped you through your early crises. How I was bested by my best friend. Bitter, bitter regret like a bloody stone lodged in my throat. Then more tears, this time mine. You lifted my head, and held it with both hands. What did you see in my leaking eyes? Did you see the truth? I would do this now, because of past love, resentment unspent.

We kissed again, this time together. Hurried hands frantically pulled at clothing, exposing heat to the cold air. We both cried out together.

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