Читать книгу The Sinner - Kathleen O'Brien - Страница 2

Bryce had stretched his hand out, so that the tips of his fingers were only an inch away from her shoulder. One inch.

She didn’t move a muscle. “What?”

He remained motionless, too. His long fingers didn’t close the distance between them, but they didn’t retreat, either. It was like a freeze frame, the two of them suspended in time, only an inch apart.

She asked again, because the tension of that inch was unbearable. “What?”

“Nothing,” he said, his voice oddly vague. “It’s just—”

She was acutely aware of her heartbeat, which seemed to be the only part of her still moving. One inch. If she leaned his way even the slightest bit, their bodies would connect.

But she couldn’t. The distance between them, even if it was only an inch, was his distance. He had put it there, and only he could take it away.

“It’s just that… If you wanted my respect for what you did today—for what you’re trying to do with your life… You’ve got it.”

Respect… Numbly she thanked him, said goodbye and climbed out of the car. Respect was cold, completely without passion. You respected your congressman, your pastor, your fifth-grade teacher and your elders.

Respect had no power to do the only thing that mattered. It could never close that final, fatal inch.