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‘So it is. Odd that I should forget right after coming in here. Actually, it wasn’t even like forgetting, it was like I never knew it in the first place. Imagine that, to all of a sudden find yourself somewhere and not know where it is, or why you’re there, or who you are.’ Charlotte took a bottle of wine out of the mini fridge. ‘It’s traditional to begin a story in medias res.’ ‘I’m sorry, what?’ ‘In the middle of the action, so that the reader will be drawn in by questions about the things they don’t at first know.’ She handed him a glass. ‘But how can the reader find out what’s happened before the story began?’ He had no idea what she was talking about, but he loved listening to her throaty voice. ‘It has to be communicated through exposition,’ she said. ‘For example, if I were to say that we just met in the hotel bar an hour ago, and that I’d picked up on you, and that it was all my idea to come up here to my room.’ ‘I guess that does fill in the blanks a bit.’ Robert frowned.. "I slowly shook my head, replying, "Don't say that... Don't tell me that."He squeezed his fingers on my knee. "Honey... Jessie... please don't cry..."I sniffed and wiped my nose. "Are you mad?" I asked.I closed my eyes and waited for the worst.After what seemed an eternal pause, he whispered no, he wasn't mad.I took a deep breath, and then asked if he still loved me."Yes," he whispered, rubbing my knee. "Very much."My voice cracked and stuttered, when I said, "D-dad... you d-don't have to answer... b-but I want to know... I want to know, if... if you love me... the same... like I love you."He rose next to me and pulled me up so I was sitting upright in front of him. Then he ran his hand over my face, brushing my hair back over my ears, and lifted my chin. In the faint light, I could see he had been crying. He smiled and leaned over to hug me."I'll always love you, Jessie," he whispered.I put my arms around him, hugging him close, pushing my breasts against his bare chest. I began.
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