Love is a Storm

Jasper was walking down the street, heading to the cafe where he was supposed to meet his girlfriend, Shannon when he heard someone call his name.  He turned and saw that it was Raina, Shannon’s friend from university.  She stood there, dressed in an odd white top, denim capri pants with a smile on her face.  Around her arm was a gold band and several handcraft chains around her neck.  In his mind he juxtaposed her image with Shannon’s.  They were different as night and day.  Shannon was glamorous and Raina was not.  Yet, it was Raina who made his heart race and his stomach do somersaults.  He walked over to her.

“Hi Raina,” he said, nervous and excited at the same time.  She had that effect on him.

“Hi, yourself.  Where’re you off to in such a hurry?” she asked.

“I’m meeting Shannon for lunch at Kennington Lane Cafe.”

She had a way of tilting her head to the side as she looked up at him.  “It’s been a while since I last saw you.  Are you avoiding me?”

He blinked.  “Why would I be avoiding you?” he asked.  Was she on to him?  Did she somehow guess that he had been avoiding her?

“Maybe because of what almost happened the last time we saw each other.”

He felt his face grow hot when he recalled the incident she was talking about.  He had invited some friends over to celebrate Shannon’s birthday.  Raina got there early so that she could set things up.  She was busying stringing the decorations when he went into the living-room.  He stood beside the mantelpiece and watched her.  As if sensing that he was there, she turned, a smile on her face.   And then, to his surprise, the smile disappeared and she gaped at him for a few minutes before turning abruptly away.  Frowning, he walked over to her and stood in front of her.

“What’s the matter, Raina?” he asked, still clueless.

She avoided looking at him.  “Your–your shirt is open,” she mumbled.

He glanced down.  Sure enough.  It was unbuttoned.  Blushing profusely, he quickly buttoned it and tucked it in his pants.  “Sorry about that,” he apologized.  “You can look now.”

She did and for a long moment their eyes locked.  Then, she turned and went over to the step ladder to finish stringing the Happy Birthday, Shannon sign.  “Could you hand me those balloons, please?”

He picked up the balloons stringed together and gave them to her.  She put them below the sign.  After checking to make sure her handiwork was fine, she started to come down the ladder when she stumbled.  He reached up and caught her.  Winded, she leaned against him for a few minutes, trying to catch her breath.  This was the closest he had ever been to her and it excited him.  His heart began to pound and his breath quickened.  They stared at each other, the air around them pulsating.  She felt so soft against him and he couldn’t hide his reaction.  His smoldering gaze lowered to her lips which parted.  Inflamed, he leaned over to devour them when the doorbell rang.  They draw apart immediately and raking his fingers through his hair, he went to answer the door.

For the rest of the evening, he avoided her but he hadn’t been able to think of anything else but how badly he wanted to kiss her.  For weeks, he tried to stay away, afraid to face her.  And now here she was.  He swallowed hard, his expression tense as he returned her searching gaze.  “I would have kissed you if the others hadn’t shown up then,” he said.

“I know,” she said, sounding a little breathless.

“I haven’t been able to think about anything else.”

“Me neither,” she admitted.

“Why did my open shirt bother you so much?”

“You know why,” she said.

“I want you to tell me.”

“Seeing your bare chest turned me on.”

His eyes darkened.  “You turn me on and right at this moment, I want to take you back to my place and show you how much.”

“Jasper…”

“This is why I’ve been avoiding you.  I’m afraid of what I would do and say when we’re alone together.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t be alone now,” she said.  “Maybe I should go…”

He caught her by the hand.  “Don’t go,” he said.

“I should,” she insisted.  “Besides, you have a lunch date, remember?”

“When can I see you again?” he asked, still holding her hand.

She blinked, trying to think but found it hard with him rubbing his thumb against the inside of her palm.  “I-I don’t know.”

“How about later?”

She shook her head.  “I can’t.  I have a date–”

His expression darkened at once.  “A date?” he repeated.  Jealousy ripped through him.  “Who’s the guy?  Do I know him?”

“I don’t think so.”

“How long have you been dating him?”

“I haven’t been.  This is our first date.”

“How did you meet him?”

Before she could answer, his cell rang.  Muttering under his breath, he released her arm and whipped his cell out. “Yes?”  A pause then:  “I’m on my way now.  I should be there in five minutes.”  He listened and then rang off.

“You’d better go now or she’ll go ballistic.”

“Raina…”

“I’ve to go,” she said and quickly walked away.

 

“What’s the matter with you?” Shannon asked him as they sat by the window having veggie burgers, salad and shakes.  “You’re acting a bit odd.”

“Nothing’s the matter with me.”

Shannon looked at his unfinished burger and then at him.  “You’ve hardly touched your lunch.”

“I’m not very hungry.”

“Aren’t you feeling well?  You look a bit piqued.”

“I’m fine,” he insisted.  “Let’s drop it.”  He picked up the burger and forced himself to eat it.

She wasn’t convinced but she dropped the matter.  After lunch, they went a Jazz concert and then he took her home.  She wanted him to stay but he made an excuse and left.

 

“I had a terrific time and you’re a really nice guy, Joel but…”

“But you’re not interested,” he finished.  They were standing outside of her flat.  “It’s another guy, isn’t it?”

She nodded.  “Yes.”

“Well, whoever he is, he’s a lucky guy.”

“Goodbye, Joel,” she said, holding out her hand.

“Goodbye, Raina.”  He took her hand and raised it to his lips.  And then, he was gone.

She turned and unlocked her door.  Once inside, she thankfully removed her shoes and wriggled her toes.  They were gorgeous but they hurt her feet.  She was about to head for the bedroom to change when the doorbell rang.  Frowning, she turned and peered through the keyhole.  Her heart lurched when she saw Jasper standing there.  She opened the door.  “What are you doing here?” she asked.  He looked amazing in the black shirt and black pants.  She saw the way his gaze traveled over her body clad in the black cocktail dress with cap sleeves and a side slit.  Her curly hair framed her face which was devoid of makeup.

“You look beautiful,” he added, his expression tense.

“Thank you.”

“May I come in?”

She stepped aside for him to go inside and closed the door behind him.  Afterwards, she turned to face him.  “What are you doing here?” she asked again.

“I had to see you, Raina.”

“You shouldn’t be here, Jasper.”

“Why?  Do you have company?” he asked, looking over his shoulder.

“No.  I’m alone.”

“Where’s your date?”

“He left.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing.  We had a terrific time, he brought me home, we said goodbye and he left.”

“Are you going to see him again?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“You know why.” She watched as he moved closer.  The air was charged between them.

“I want you to tell me.”

“I’m stuck on you.”

In a flash, he was standing in front of her, his body trapping her against the door.  “And I’m stuck on you,” he muttered thickly.

Her hands went up to push at his chest.  “We shouldn’t,” she protested weakly, her heavy breathing mingling with his.

He took her hands and pinned them above her head.  His scorching gaze met hers before he lowered his head and kissed her, his lips almost devouring hers.  Raina kissed him back wildly.  Outside, dark clouds had gathered and minutes later, it was pouring rain.  Lightning flashed across the sky and the loud clap of thunder followed.  Inside the flat a different storm was raging.  It moved from the foyer and into the bedroom.  Minutes later, they were under the sheets, their bodies undulating to the tempo of  lovemaking which increased as their feelings for each other engulfed them.  Outside the storm continued to rage.

The following day, Jasper ended his relationship with Shannon.

Love is a storm that engulfs the senses – Lee Hiller

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The Charity Case/Glimmer #writephoto

distant-lights

Photo by Sue Vincent

 

Shanice sat on the summit overlooking the city.  This was her place.  It was where she could be alone with God and her thoughts.  She drew her knees up and wrapped her arms around them.  Her life had been a tough one.  She grew up in a rough neighborhood.  When she was seven, her father was killed in a drive by shooting.  Ten years later, her mother overdosed on crack.  She went to live with her uncle but ran away after he started sexually abusing her.  For several months she lived on the streets, rummaging through garbage bins for food because she refused to turn to prostitution.  She believed in God and that her body was a temple.

It was one Autumn morning when she met Neil Patterson, the city’s councilor.  He was a very popular man who had been doing a great job cleaning up the city.  She was standing outside of a café, watching the people inside having their hot coffees and chocolates along with donuts or bagels, her mouth watering when she sensed that someone was standing behind her.  She turned around at once and found herself looking up at a very tall and distinguished man dressed in an expensive black coat.  His sandy colored hair was neatly combed and she could tell that he didn’t belong in these parts.  He looked familiar too.  Then, she remembered where she had seen him.  He was on the cover of yesterday’s newspaper.  He was even more attractive in person and looked to be in his early forties.  He smiled now.  His eyes were an unusual shade of blue.  “Are you hungry?” he asked.

She nodded and wondered if he was going to give her money to buy something to eat.  To her surprise, he said, “Come, let’s go inside where it’s nice and warm.”  He opened the door and after a slight hesitation, she went inside.  He led her over to a table by the window as several gazes followed them.  People recognized him and greeted him.  They didn’t look at all surprised to see him with an African American teenager who looked like she hadn’t had a bath in years.  They were used to seeing him rubbing elbows with the dregs of society.  It was part of his appeal.

He seemed nice enough and she let him buy her a meal.  Hunger overpowered pride.  Besides, she didn’t know when again she would be treated to a free meal.  While she wolfed down the food, he talked.  He was a good talker and she could see why he was where he was.  He was charismatic and she found herself warming up to him.  And he was very attractive.  She always did have a thing for older men.  The guys her age were full of themselves and so immature.

He wasn’t married.  She didn’t see any ring on his finger but then, again, he might be one of those men who didn’t bother to wear one.  It was foolish sitting there thinking these things when she wasn’t going to see him again.  He was being kind to her and she was thankful for that.  After they left this café, they would go their separate ways and he would forget all about her.  She knew that she would never forget him.

He didn’t have anything to eat.  All he had was some hot chocolate.  He asked a lot of questions about her life which she was unwilling to answer but did anyway.  She left out the part about her uncle, though.  He asked her about going into a foster home and a homeless shelter but she made it clear that she didn’t want to be in either.  She had heard horror stories about those places and she wanted nothing to do with them.  She would rather take her changes on the streets until circumstances changed for her—until God intervened.  She didn’t mention God to him.  Most people were put off by religion.

She liked being in the café.  It was warm and friendly.  She wished she could stay there longer but she knew he was a busy man and had places to go and people to see so she didn’t want to keep him.  After she finished her hot chocolate and he paid the bill, she stood up.  Holding out her hand, she thanked him for his kindness and was about to walk away when, he said, “Instead of going back to the streets, why don’t you come and live with me?  I have large estate, with lots of room and staff.  You will have your own room.  You can come and go as you please.  I won’t put any restrictions on you.”

She stared at him.  “Why are you doing this?” she asked.

“I just want to help you.  I have a sister your age.  What do you say?”

“Well, I don’t want to be a freeloader,” she said.  “Is there a job I can do to pay for my keep?”

“What about college or university?” he asked.  “Aren’t you interested in furthering your education?”

“Of course, I am but my mother couldn’t afford to send me to college.  What little money we had she wasted on drugs.”

“Instead of working for me, you’ll go to the college or university of your choice.  What do you say?”

She stood there for a moment, considering all of this.  This was better than being homeless—living in the streets and struggling to survive.  Besides, the weather was getting colder and all she had was this beat up jacket which wasn’t keeping her warm at all.  She studied him.  He looked like someone she could trust.  And she didn’t hear any alarm bells going off in her head.  Shrugging, she said, “Sure.  Thanks again.  As soon as I graduate from university, I’ll be gone.”

He smiled.  “Whatever works for you, Shanice.”

They left the café and her life on the streets behind.  That was four years ago.  She was in university now, studying Sociology.  Their relationship had started out platonic and then, this morning, when she went back to the estate after a night of partying at a friend’s house, he was waiting up for her.  She sneaked into the living room and paused until her eyes adjusted to the darkness when the room was flooded with light.  Blinking, she went over to the sofa and sat down, tugging off her strappy sandals.  Her black dress was short and hugged her body.  The skirt rode high, revealing her legs.  She watched as his gaze traveled over her and the color flood his cheeks before he demanded, “Where have you been?”

“I was at a friend’s birthday bash,” she explained.  “I tried to be very quiet so that I wouldn’t disturb you—“

“Do you have any idea what time it is?”

She glanced at her watch.  It was five minutes to three.  “I’m sorry,” she mumbled.  “I didn’t mean to stay out so late.”

He went further into the drawing-room, his hands shoved deep in the pockets of his silk robe.  His hair which was always neatly in place was slightly disheveled.  “I knew that I had told you that you were free to come and go as you please but, I still expect you to act responsibly.  For this infraction, you are forbidden to leave these premises unless accompanied by me for the rest of the summer.”

She jumped to her feet, aghast.  “That’s not fair,” she cried.  “This is the only time I’ve stayed out late.  You can’t hold this one time against me.”

“And another thing, I don’t want to see you dressed like that again.”  Anger flared in her at that moment.  “You’re not my father,” she retorted.

“No, but I am responsible for you and as long as you live under my roof, you have to abide by my rules.”

“Fine!” she said, grabbing her shoes and handbag.  “If that’s all, I’d like to go to bed.  I’m tired.” She was about to walk past him when he caught her by the arm.  She turned her head and looked up at him, the anger in her eyes dissipating when she saw the expression on his face.

“I care about you, Shanice,” he muttered urgently.  “I was out of my mind with worry when it was midnight and you hadn’t come home.  I had no idea where you were.  I tried calling you but your cell was turned off.  In future, you need to tell me where you are so that I don’t worry or in case I need to get in touch with you.”

“You’re right,” she acknowledged.  “I should have let you know where I was last night.  I’m sorry.”

“And I’ll do the same,” he said.  “I’ll let you know where I’ll be at all times, in case you need to reach me.”

The grip of his fingers on her arm was very distracting and he was staring directly into her eyes.  She suddenly had trouble breathing properly and her heart was pounding.  “Am-am I still forbidden to leave the premises?” she asked.

He shook his head.  “No, you’re not,” he said softly.  “You’re not a prisoner.”

“So, I can leave whenever I want?”

He nodded.  “Yes.”  He moved closer.  “You’re free to leave here as agreed four years ago but I hope you decide to stay.  This place and my life would not be the same without you.  They would be empty.”

That was the most beautiful thing anyone had ever said to her.  She was touched to the very depths of her being and she could feel her eyes water.  She loved it here.  It was the home and life she had always dreamed of.  And she loved being with him.  She realized that she had loved him since the first time they met but had convinced herself that she could never be more to him than a charity case.  But, the way he was looking at her and what he had just said proved her wrong.  Without thinking, she reached up and touched his face.  He turned his head and pressed his lips into the palm before he pulled her into his arms.

She smiled now as she remembered that first kiss.  It was out of this world.  It sent tingles all over her body and she could swear that she heard fireworks.  Scrambling to her feet, she watched as the sun finally disappeared over the horizon.  Tomorrow was the first day of her last year at university.

It was getting late.  It was time to head back.  She wanted to be there, waiting for him.

This is a response to the #writephoto Prompt – Glimmer curated over at Sue Vincent’s Daily Echo.

Take the Fall

“This is madness,” he thought to himself but yet here he was parked outside of the university, waiting for her.  Sometimes she would be with a friend or in a group and other times she was alone.  And each time, when she saw him, she would look at him without making it obvious.

He had no business being here.  “I should be heading back to the office and finish marking the stack of term papers sitting on my desk.”  Yet, he remained, his eyes scanning the drove of students for her.  Would she be alone today?  He hoped so.  And if she were, what was he going to do?  He hoped she didn’t think that he was stalking her.  He was no stranger to this campus.  In fact, it was at one of his lectures where he first laid eyes on her.  She was sitting in the second row.   He could still remember what she was wearing that day.   And he remembered thinking that her lipstick was way too bright.  How he managed to get through the lecture, he had no idea.

At the end, while other students were crowding him and asking questions, she stood beside the chair where she had been sitting and watched him.  Their eyes met and held for what seemed like eternity before she turned and walked away.  He watched her go, wondering if he would see her again.  For the rest of the afternoon, he could think of nothing else but her.  What was her name?  What was she studying?  Did she have a boyfriend?

Driven by a compulsion he couldn’t explain, he found himself outside of the university the following day, hoping that he would see her.  And he did.  His heart pounded wildly against his ribs when he saw her walking towards his car with a friend.  She was laughing at something the other girl said when she spotted him.  Without missing a beat, she met his gaze directly, making him blush before she walked past the car.

He broke out of his reverie when she appeared now.  She was alone today and when she saw him, she stopped and stood there, staring at him.  Today, she was wearing a black hat, black jacket over a white tee shirt and jeans.  Her hair was pulled together in a side plait, making her look much younger and her lips were bright red.  And then, she moved.  She’s coming towards me, he realized.  Nervousness and excitement filled him.  He ran his hands over his hair, straightened his clothes before getting out of the car.  He leaned nonchalantly against the car and waited.

When she reached him, she smiled and held out her hand.  “Hello, Professor Remington,” she said.

She remembers my name.  He cleared his throat, smiled and shook her hand which felt very small in his.  “Hello, Miss–?”

“Sydney Bradshaw”

“Pleased to meet you, Sydney.”

“I just wanted to let you know that I really enjoyed your lecture.”

“I’m happy to hear that,” he said.  “I have another one coming up next month.”

“Where?” she asked.

“The University of Roehampton.”

“What’s the lecture about?”

“Self-victimization or victim playing.  I will explain what it is, the reasons why people engage in it and the signs.”

“That sounds very interesting.  I’d definitely like to come.”

“I hope you do,” he said.  “You don’t have a boyfriend, do you?”

She shook her head at once.  “No, I don’t.”

“Good.  And I don’t have a wife or a girlfriend.  I’d like to continue our conversation more over cappuccinos.”

She smiled.  “I’d like that too.”

He walked around to the passenger-side of the car and opened the door for her.   They went to a nearby cafe where they the rest of the afternoon, talking over cappuccinos and the following evening, they had dinner at a charming French restaurant.   By the end of the year, they were engaged.

…ignore the risk and take the fall. And if it’s meant to be it’ll be worth it all – Daniel Seavey

Sources:  Genius; Wikipedia; The Daily EvergreenRate Speeches

His Folly

spf-09-16-18-anurag-1

Photo by Anurag Bakhshi

“Don’t Come,” the text read. “Not safe.”

He pondered it for a moment before typing, “Okay.”

For several minutes, he sat in his car, facing the lake.  In the trunk were suitcases.  He was leaving town and wanted to take her with him.  How foolish was that?  He would be better off, leaving her and their sordid affair behind. They almost got caught the last time they were together.  They had to cool things off for a while.  Being apart from her was torture but if he got caught, he would be arrested.  After all, he was a twenty-five year old man involved with a fifteen year old girl.  Sure, she looked mature for her age but that didn’t change the fact that she was a minor.  He could be arrested for statutory rape even though their relationship was consensual.

He should leave now.  Straightening up, he turned on the engine and drove off.  Instead of heading for the highway, he drove to the café.  She wasn’t there but they were.  As they slapped the cuffs on him and led him away, he thought, you fool, she warned you not to come.

192 Words

 

This was written for Sunday Photo Fiction hosted by Susan Spaulding. For more details visit Here.  To read other stories based on this week’s prompt, visit Here.

LA

woman wearing white cap and pink crew neck shirt

Photo by Joshua McKnight on Pexels.com

She was coming out of the washroom when she saw him.  It was hot but he looked nice and cool in his suit.  Come to think of it, she didn’t recall ever seeing him perspire.  She hoped he wouldn’t see her because she wasn’t looking her best, dressed in the pink tee shirt, faded jeans, white cap and denim jacket draped around her shoulders.  Her face was shiny and she wasn’t wearing any makeup.  Perhaps, she should slip out the back way.  Too late.  Her heart sank.  He’d seen her.

Trying to appear composed, she watched as he approached her.  He was so gorgeous.  Just the sight of him made her heart race and her knees weak.   Her palms felt sweaty and she rubbed them against the seat of her jeans.

He smiled when he reached her, those incredibly sexy eyes of his intent on her face which felt hot.  “Hello, Yvette,” he said.

“Hello, Zach.”

“So, you’re back from LA.”

“Yes.  I came back on Thursday.”

“That was two days ago.  Why haven’t you called me?”

“I thought you’d be busy and–”

“I’m never too busy for you, Yvette.”

“How-how have you been?”

“Busy but that comes with the job.”  He was the Chief Executive Officer at an investment firm.  “So, how did you like LA?”

“It was fun.  Lots to see.”

“I got your postcard.”

“Good.  I’m glad it got here before I did.”

“I missed you.”

She swallowed hard.  “I–I missed you too.”

“Did you meet anyone interesting?”

“Well, I met some celebrities and got their autographs.”

“I meant, did you meet any interesting men?” He looked a bit tense.

She shook her head.  “We went to a nightclub one evening and there were a few who approached me but I wasn’t interested in any of them.”

He relaxed.  “You have no idea how relieved I’m to hear that.  I kept imagining you with some guy and getting jealous.”

Her breath caught in her throat.  “Jealous?”

“Yes.  Yvette, you must know by now that I’m crazy about you.  For the longest time I’ve wanted to tell you but got cold feet every time.  When you went to LA, I promised myself that when I saw you I would tell you how I feel.”

She reached out and took his hand, lacing her fingers through his.  “I had no idea that you felt this way,” she said, her eyes wide as they met his.  “I’ve been into you since the first time we met but I never dreamed that you felt the same way.  And all the time I was in LA, I thought about you, wishing that you were there.”

“Do you have plans for this evening?” he asked.

“No.”  And even if I had, I would cancel them for you.

“Have dinner with me tonight.”

“Where?  What time?”

“David’s Bistro at seven.  I’ll pick you up at six-thirty.”

“All right.  I’ll see you at six-thirty.”

He smiled, his eyes caressing her upturned face as he raised her their intertwined fingers and pressed his lips against hers, making her tremble.  “See you later.”  And then, he walked away.

She stood there for several minutes, her mind spinning and her heart racing.  That trip to LA proved to be a turning point in her relationship with Zachary.  It was what had driven him to finally declare his feelings for her.  All this time, he cared for her and she had no clue.  Either he was very good at hiding his feelings or she was really bad at reading the signs.  And now that she thought about it, there had been signs.  Shaking her head, she walked out the cafe and into the sunshine.

One of the best feelings in the world is knowing your presence and absence will mean something to someone – Brain Quotes

 

muz_shutterstock_450357484

On Top of the World

She stood there next to the doorway, debating whether

or not to spend at least half-hour sitting outside on the

café’s patio having her Latte.  It was such lovely

spring day with a light breeze.   She looked around at

the different people sitting there, enjoying the weather

and it was then that she spotted Antoine.  She stared at him

in surprise.  What was he doing here?  He was alone and having

what looked like a cup of cappuccino.

 

Heart pounding, she went over to his table and stood beside

the chair opposite his.  “Hello, Antoine.”  He looked very attractive

in the charcoal grey suit and black silk shirt.  She felt under-

dressed in her thin white blouse and denim skirt.

 

He glanced up and a smile spread slowly across his face.  “Hello,”

he greeted her softly.  “Join me.”  He stood up and walked round

the table to pull out the chair for her to sit.  She caught a whiff of

his aftershave.    After a slight hesitation, she sat down.  “I didn’t

think I would see you here,” she remarked.

 

His eyebrows rose quizzically.  “Why not?” he asked as he resumed

his seat.

 

“This isn’t the kind of establishment a man of your pedigree

would normally come to.”

 

He pursed his lips.  “I may be rich but I’m not a snob,” he

replied.  “I happen to like this café and have been here on

more than one occasion.

 

His gentle rebuke made her feel bad.  “I’m sorry,” she apologized.

 

“Do you have something against all rich men or just me in

particular?”

 

She lowered her eyes under his intent scrutiny.  “No, I don’t have

anything against you.  And you’re the only rich man I know.”

 

“I don’t want my wealth to be the cause any problems between us.”

 

“It-it isn’t.”

 

“Good.  How have you been, Cécile?  It has been a while since we

last saw each other.”

 

“I’m fine.  I got a promotion last week.”

 

“Congratulations.”

 

“Thank you.  What about you?  What have you been up to?”

 

“Aside from going on business trips,  I threw a bachelor party for

my brother, Sergei, attended my sister, Natasha’s wedding and

helped my parents to move to Saint-Chinian after their retired.”

 

She stared at him.  “You’ve been very busy.”

 

“Yes, I have been,” he agreed.  But during all that time I couldn’t

stop thinking about you and hoping that I would see you again.

“It’s nice to be sitting here and enjoying a cup of cappuccino.”

 

“Yes, I can imagine.”  You were too busy to think about me but I

have been thinking about you every day and wondering when I

would see you again.

 

“Is there a man in your life?” he asked suddenly, startling her.

 

She shook her head at once.  “No,” she answered, her mouth

going dry when she saw the expression on his face.

 

“That’s good to know,” he said quietly, “because I want to

be the man in your life.”  He reached over and covered

her hand with his, making her heart race and butterflies

flutter in her stomach.

 

She was at a loss for words.  She couldn’t believe this was

happening.  He was holding her hand and telling her that

he wanted to be her man.

 

“You’re speechless,” he observed.  “Have I shocked you?”

 

She nodded. “Yes,” she managed to say.

 

“Does it shock you to know that I want to be with you?”

 

“Yes.  You—you never indicated that you were interested in

me.”

 

“I guess I was better at hiding my feelings than I thought.  I’ve

wanted to be with you since we met but wasn’t sure that you

would feel the same way.  I got the impression that my wealth

posed a problem for you.  I hope I never made you feel that you

weren’t good enough for me.”

 

“You never did but I didn’t think you would want to date me

when—when there were plenty of other women, more

beautiful and sophisticated to choose from.”

 

His eyes darkened.  “Yes, I have dated beautiful women but none

of them could hold a candle to you.  You’re the most beautiful and

desirable woman I have ever met.  When I first saw you I thought of

the story Jesus told about the Merchant who found a pearl that was of

such great value to him that he went and sold everything he had so

he could buy it.  One look at you and I was willing to give up

everything I have just to be with you.  I still am.”

 

She blinked the tears that sprang to her eyes.  She had read that

story so many times but never did she ever imagine that a man

would think that she was as precious as that pearl which Jesus

likened to the kingdom of heaven.  “You don’t have to give up

anything to be with me,” she told him huskily.  “I want to be with

you too.”

 

He gently squeezed her hand.  “Good. What do you say to leaving

here and going for a walk along the Seine and then go to the top

of the Eiffel Tower just before the sun sets?”

 

She smiled.  “I say yes.”

 

They both got up and he reached for her hand as they left

the patio.  It felt wonderful holding hands and she couldn’t

stop smiling.

 

As they strolled along the Seine, stopping to soak up the

atmosphere and admire the surrounding architecture,

they made plans for the future.   When they were at the

top of the Eiffel Tower, gazing down at the city of love as

it was bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun, he pulled

her against him and whispered in her ear,  “I know that we’re

on top of the Eiffel Tower but right now, I’m on top of the

world because I’m with you.”

 

She leaned back against him and smiled.

 

 

Source:  Trip Advisor

The Letters

Her eyes went straight to the desk where she expected to see it and there it was.  Heart thudding, she walked into the classroom and picking it up, she examined it.  It was the same long, plain white envelope with her name written neatly on the front.  She got one every Thursday since the beginning of the semester and found herself looking forward to receiving them.  They were beautiful, heartfelt and honest outpouring of his feelings and she longed to find out who was writing them.

The mystery person was obviously a student who attended her Tuesday and Thursday classes.  She taught on Mondays and Wednesdays as well and had Fridays off.  He got there early so that no one would see him leave the envelope on her desk.  Perhaps this letter will give her more clues.  She put the envelope in her handbag, promising herself to read it as soon as she got a chance.

As she got ready for the class to begin, her gaze swept over the faces of the young men in the room while in her mind she asked the question, Is it you?  She knew which one of them she wanted her mystery man to be.  Her eyes shifted to him and caught him watching her.  He blinked and blushed before he looked away. Clive Bennington.  He sat in the front row.

The first time he walked into the classroom, she noticed him.  In all of her years of teaching never once did she ever notice a student until that moment.  He was tall and athletic.  Well dressed, he had the word preppy written all over him.  The combination of sensuality and studiousness added to his appeal.  It wasn’t long before she became strongly attracted to him.

She was careful to hide her feelings because if she were suspected of having a romantic interest in a student, her job could be in jeopardy.  Outside of the university and in her private time, she permitted herself to daydream about him and when she started getting the letters, she wished that they were from him.  She kept them in her bureau and read them every night before she went to bed.

Presently, she schooled herself to concentrate on teaching and the time went by very quickly.  As usual, he was the last to leave and as he was packing up, she went over him.  “I enjoyed your paper,” she said.  “You’re an excellent writer.  You have a remarkable way of expressing yourself.  Your writing is down to earth and engaging.  You should think of publishing some of your work.”  As she spoke to him about his writing, it dawned on her, not for the first time how much it reminded her of the penmanship of the letters.  It had to be him.

He looked shyly at her, his face a little flushed.  “Thank you, Professor Williams.”

She wanted to reach up and brush the lock of hair back from his forehead.  “You’re welcome, Clive.”  Would it be wrong for her to ask him to go with her for a cappuccino?  She decided that it probably wouldn’t be a good idea.  Walking back to the desk, she gathered the papers together and put them in her folder.  “Good night, Clive.”

“Good night, Professor Williams.”  He grabbed his bag and after glancing at her, he walked out of the classroom.

After he was gone, she finished packing up and left.   Thirty minutes later she let herself into her flat.  Not bothering to fix something to eat, she took the letter from her handbag and headed straight over to the sofa, her heart beating fast with excitement.   Her hands trembled as she unfolded the sheets of paper.  Leaning against the soft cushions, she began to read.

Dear Rose,

This is the first time I have addressed you by your first name.  I hope you don’t mind.  Whenever I see a rose, I think about you.  To me you’re more beautiful.  I will always remember the first time I saw you.  It was during my second year at Oxford.  I was sitting outside with Samantha, my girlfriend, enjoying the weather when you walked by.  My heart stopped and I couldn’t stop staring at you.  You took my breath away.  I sat there, bewildered because I really believed that I loved Samantha and always thought she was the girl for me.  And yet, when I looked at you, it seemed as if time stood still and nothing and no one else existed.  In that instance, I felt like Romeo when he was at the ball.  First he couldn’t take his eyes off Rosaline but when Juliet appeared, Rosaline faded into obscurity.  All Romeo saw was the lovely maiden who had captured his attention and his heart.  For me you were Juliet and Samantha was Rosaline.

You didn’t notice me that day because you were talking to a student, giving her your undivided attention.  I found myself wishing I were that student but I knew that if you talked to me I would be tongue-tied and probably make a fool of myself.  I wanted to know your name, which course you taught so that I could be one of your students.  I watched as the girl walked away and then another student call out to you, “Professor Williams.” And you turned and smiled as he ran over to you.  I knew your last name. Behind me I heard Samantha say, “Clive, I have to be getting to class now.  I’ll see you later.”  She reached over and kissed me on the cheek before leaving me.  I sat there, watching you talk to the student and I made up my mind that I was going to find out more about you from him.  It felt as if I were sitting there for hours and then you left.  As soon as you were gone, I went over to the student and asked him, “I’ve never seen that professor before, is she new?”

He shook his head.  “No, that’s Professor Williams.  She’s been at Oxford for about ten years now.”

“What does she teach?”

“English Language and Literature.  She teaches 4th year students like me.”

“Is she a good teacher?”

“The best.  Make sure that when you do your enrollment for your last year, that you sign up for her class. Before I took her class, I wasn’t keen on writing but now I find that I like it very much.” After I thanked him for his time, I went to my class but I was hardly paying attention to a word Professor Ayers was saying.  All I could think about was you and how much I wanted to see you again.  I discovered that you were a creature of habit.  Every day, at a certain time of the day, you went to the library to read.  I made sure I was there when you were.  You didn’t notice me as I sat there with my books open on the table watching you and wishing that I had the courage to walk over there and introduce myself to you. 

For two years, I have watched and admired you from afar.  I am ashamed to say that I broke up with Samantha but didn’t admit the real reason.  I simply told her that I didn’t love her the way she wanted me to.  She was heartbroken.  I felt like a heel, especially when she transferred to another university. I never meant to hurt her but I couldn’t help that I had fallen in love you.  Many nights I lay awake whispering the words, I love you.  I sit in your class, longing for the day when I could say it to your face.  Yes, I took the student’s advice and signed up for your class and I am so happy that I did.  The first day I walked into your class and you smiled at me, I was on cloud nine.  When you first spoke to me, I couldn’t think straight.  I was so nervous and I was afraid that I wouldn’t be able to hide my feelings.  Sometimes I noticed the way you looked at me and that encouraged me.  I started to believe that you were attracted to me too and that made my heart dance with joy.

I graduate in three weeks and I have mixed feelings.  I’m happy to be moving on to bigger things but at the same time, I will miss being in your class.  It has been the highlight of my whole university experience.  I look forward to seeing you every week and can’t wait for the weekends to end.  I am hoping that you will want to stay in touch with me.  I will even dare to say that I hope that you would be open to the idea of going out with me.  Nothing would make me happier than to be in a relationship with you.  My family will not approve for obvious reasons but when you’re in love, it doesn’t matter what others say or think.  On Tuesday, I will stay after class and ask you to go to the café with me.  I hope that you will say yes.

This is my last letter but before I close, I wanted to say that when I first saw you, I never imagined that I would fall so hard.  I dream about you, think about you and long to be with you every day.  My heart pounds when I see you and I get butterflies in my stomach when someone mentions your name.  Even if you don’t end up falling in love with me, I want you to know that I love you now and I will love you for the rest of my life.

Clive

Rose didn’t realize that she was crying until a teardrop fell on the page.   Finally, she knew who the mystery man was.  It was Clive.  This was the only letter he signed his name to.  In all the other letters, he simply wrote Anonymous.  This letter was by far the most precious one and after reading it a second time, she clutched it to her heart.  Clive loves me.  He wants to be in a relationship with me.  On Tuesday, I will let him know how I feel.

Tuesday came and all through class she thought of nothing else but going out with him.  As soon as they were alone, Clive went over to her as she was gathering the papers together and putting them in her briefcase.  She paused and looked up at him.  He looked so shy and unsure of himself that her heart melted.  Reaching for his hand, she said, “It’s a beautiful afternoon.  Let’s walk to the café.”

His heart was racing and he couldn’t think straight because she was holding his hand.  “Thank you,” was all he could manage to say and she smiled.

She finished packing up and then preceded him to the door.  They walked to the café and sat at a table in the corner.  They chatted for a while about different things including what his plans were after he graduated.   “I’m going to miss your letters,” she told him.  “I loved reading them.  I read them every night.”

“Really?” he asked, looking thrilled.  “I’m relieved to hear that.  I was afraid that I was being too forward but I couldn’t keep my feelings bottled up inside.”

“You were right about me,” she admitted.  “I was attracted to you the first time I saw you but I tried not to show it.  There were times when I couldn’t help looking at you.  I had to be careful that no one else noticed.  When I started getting the letters, I hoped that they were from you.”

“Does this mean that you will go out with me?” he asked, looking anxious.

She nodded.  “Yes, but we have to keep it on the quiet until you graduate.”

“All right,” he agreed, holding her hand, relishing the feel of it in his.  “We’ll do whatever you think is best just as long as we are together.”

“Are you free tomorrow evening?” she asked, unable to think with him caressing her hand.

“Yes,” he said. “I am.”  Even if he had another engagement, he would cancel it for her.

“How would you like to have dinner at my place?”

“I’d like that very much, Rose.”

“Come at six-thirty.   Let me give you my address.”  She had to extricate her hand from his in order to write down the information.

He took the folded piece of paper and put it in his wallet.  “I’m looking forward to dinner,” he told her.

“I’m afraid I have to leave now,” she said, sounding regretful.  “I have to attend my niece’s recital this evening.”  She finished her cappuccino and paid for both.

He was disappointed that they weren’t going to stay longer but at least he was going to see her tomorrow.  He stood up when she did and they left the café.  They walked back to the parking lot of the university.  When they beside her car, he wanted to kiss her but thought better of it.  Someone might see them.  “See you tomorrow,” he said.

“See you tomorrow,” she replied, smiling up at him.  She got into her car and waved before she drove off.

He watched until her car disappeared from view before walking to his.  He couldn’t sleep that night.  All day in school, he thought about Rose and when it was time to go home, he scooted out of there.  Promptly at six-thirty he was outside of her flat.  She opened the door, smiling when she saw him.  “Good evening, Clive. Come in.”

“Good evening, Rose.”  He went in and turned quickly so that she couldn’t see what he was holding behind his back.  After she closed and locked the door, he produced a bouquet of orange roses.  “Roses for a Rose,” he said huskily.

“They are gorgeous,” she exclaimed.  She took them and put them on the table nearby.  “Thank you, Clive.”

Touched, she reached up and kissed him.  When she would have pulled back, his arms went around her waist and his eyes met hers in a passionate gaze before they dropped to her lips.  They darkened with desire when he saw hers part and then he was kissing her, feverishly, wildly.  All the pent up emotions came gushing out and she matched his kisses with the same intensity, her arms going around his neck as he pressed her against him.

Several minutes went by as they exchanged hungry kisses and then he released her to remove his jacket while still kissing her.  She moved her arms from around his neck to help him to pull the dress tee shirt off.  Then, she was backing him over to the hearth where a rug was spread.  They were lying on the rug, his hands were holding her face between his hands as he plundered her lips.  “I love you, Rose” he muttered thickly when she drew back to look at him and to catch her breath.  “Let me show you how much.” And then she was lying on her back, staring up into his flushed face.

“I love you too, Clive,” she whispered before she reached up and pulled his head down to hers.

They ended up having a late dinner and that night marked the beginning of a relationship which led to marriage.