When he felt her behind him, Christian took in a sharp breath. It wasn't a familiar feeling, to have a woman pressed so tightly against him. Satine had been the only...
This was not Satine. It hurt, still, to think of her, all red hair and fire and brilliance. Oh, it hurt. And this wasn't her, it wasn't... He didn't even want to pretend that it was.
But at the same time, his hand came to rest against the place where she'd clasped her own around his chest. "No, it's all right," he said, his voice cracking when he least expected it to. He cleared his throat and let her hands slip away as she pulled back. He wasn't yet ready to face her again.
"It's just..." He didn't want to talk about Satine. He didn't want to deal with the platitudes and the apologies. He shook his head. "Sometimes it's hard to let go."