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By T. Thomas Submitted by TriciaTTX Date: 2001 Dec 04 Comment on this Work [[2001.12.04.18.09.9760]] |
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He pulled her closer to him, and took her hand in his. It was 80 degrees outside, but it was cold as hell in his truck, and her hands had become little pink Popsicles tucked between her legs for warmth. A million thoughts were swirling around inside her head. "What am I doing here?" she wondered to herself. He lowered her sleeve and with the gentlest of touch, brushed his lips across the inside of her wrist. His hot breath raised the temperature of more than her hands. She had been alone too long. She closed her eyes, as if leaving them open would undo the spell he'd magically cast. He was seducing her and she knew it, but she was too caught up in the moment to react with any response but submission. She just wanted to be in the moment, lost in the pleasure again of a familiar touch...the touch of her estranged husband. "I still love you," he whispered, his lips gently grazing her wrist. "I know," she responded. "I can feel it." "You can?" he asked, looking up with his amazingly blue eyes sparkling in the darkness. "Mm, hmm." she nodded. "It's all in the wrist," She quipped with a wry smile, trying to ease the sexual tension. She glanced toward him but carefully avoided eye contact. Those eyes. She was keenly aware of the fatal affects of his Mediterranean blue eyes. She'd fallen victim to them too many times. Struggling now with waning self-control, she resisted the urge to lose herself to his beguiling eyes. Instead she stared into the headlights of the oncoming traffic, looking for any sort of diversion to focus on. He moved his hand to her chin, and gently turns her face toward his. He knew the look and how to use it. He'd mastered the art of visual seduction. It served him well in the past and rarely failed to send her into a hypnotic state of compliance. "I really do love you," he said again, punctuating his words with a look in his eyes that seemed to be searching for signs of her acceptance or surrender. "I know you think you do, but how would you know?' she asks. "It's not a game with me. This is my life. You can't love me and someone else at the same time. You say it's over, but how would I really ever know? And now-- now you want me to trust you again? I don't know what to say." "Just say you love me," he pleaded. "It's more complicated than that," she answered, tears trailing down her face now hot with passion. "It's a matter of trust, and you want me to just trust you now-- you...the one person who has hurt me the most by betraying that trust?" She loved him. That was one of the central facts of her life. But was she ready to try again with him, after all she'd been through the year before? He'd lost interest in her and strayed, causing her the greatest pain of her existence. She'd finally made peace with the fact that she would soon be a single woman again, after a decade as his faithful wife. Knowing she would eventually have to put her life back together and reenter the "Dating Pool", she needed a fighting chance against the 21-year old nymphs proliferating the local club scene. She went on a strict diet, hired a personal trainer, and dropped 100 lbs. over the course of the year. She was almost a "hottie" as friends would tell her. She let her hair grow long and straight, and wore clothes that were a lot more hip and form fitting than her usual elastic waist Dockers and Oprah t-shirt. Shopping at The Gap instead of Lane Bryant was a newfound experience for her, and it was exhilarating. She was wearing hip-huggers again, for God sakes! She had become a different woman... her own woman, and was relatively happy with the results. And now he wanted to try again. Put the past behind them and start over. Just like that. No penitence, no punishment, just pick up where they left off and move forward. It all seemed so simple to him. He seemed oblivious to anything but her outward transformation, but she was a changed woman, nonetheless. "So if you still love me, why the hesitation?" he asked. "We have to start somewhere." "Yes, I agree." she said. "But you have to go slowly... take baby-steps. I don't know how to react. I thought it was over, and I was OK with it after awhile, but now you're using every trick in the book to win me back again." Why?" she asked. "Because I was so wrong." he said. "I can't let you go. You're a part of me that I thought I could live without-- but I can't, and I know it now. Please, baby, let me try to make it up to you. I'll spend the rest of my life trying to make you happy if you'll just give me this chance. I can't change the past, but I can be the man you thought you married. I'll never hurt you again, I swear!" These were the words she ached to hear... a balm for her wounded soul. But she had always believed in her heart of hearts she would never hear them. Not in this lifetime. He wasn't capable of such rhetoric, much less, fulfilling it. But here he was, speaking these healing words to her with the conviction of a "Born Again Christian" at a Baptist Revival. She lowered her head, staring down at their entwined hands that once proudly wore their matching wedding bands. Now bare, she felt a river of sadness flow across her entire body. "I will always love you, Dillon," she whispered, "but people change. Things change. I've moved on. I'm not the girl you married, and I can't turn back now. I like who I've become, and I'm happy." "So what are you saying?" he asked, barely managing the words. "Does this mean we're really over? You're my ideal woman now, and I want you back." " I think you're focusing too much on the size 4 jeans," she said, stroking her thigh, "and overlooking the person inside them. You don't even know me any more." "No, no"...he said. " That's not it at all. Yes, you're more beautiful than ever, but that was just the spark it took to rekindle the flames of a love that never died. You are my future, and I can't let you go. Losing you made me realize how much I needed you in my life." They drove the rest of the way home without speaking, listening to a Best of Dire Straits CD looking for some hidden meaning in the lyrics. "Dire straits" pretty much summed up his situation at the moment, he thought. He rounded the corner to their old neighborhood, wondering to himself if she'd ask him in, or if he'd spend another night alone. The silence was like a thick blanket as they pulled into the driveway, both of them drowning in a sea of emotions neither could navigate on their own; both of them unsure of their next move or who would make it first. She gathered her things, and turned to open the car door herself. "This was fun." she said. "It was good to see you again. Take care of yourself." Glancing back for a split second, she caught a glimpse of a single tear streaming down his cheek. It took her a little by surprise considering she was fighting back her own tears. "Is this it?" he asked her. "Is this really goodbye?" She had no words for him now. She lifted his face and held it between her hands. It was unshaven, yet familiarly soft to the touch. His skin was as warm as she remembered, though it seemed like a thousand years ago that he left her. "No, Dillon, this isn't goodbye. Not if we don't want it to be." Without thinking, he brushed her hair from her shoulder, and buried his head in her neck. She breathed in the scent of his Old Spice cologne lingering on the collar of his favorite denim jacket. It was as good as she remembered, maybe better. And she held the power in her hands to bring it back if she wanted. It was her turn to decide their fate. "I do love you." she sighed, running her hands through his dark curls. "That is the one truth that hasn't changed, through it all. And I will find a way to forgive you." she added, silently questioning herself on how and when and if it could ever happen. ------------------------------------------ He was whole again, and she was flush with the release from her yearlong siege of bitterness. She traced the familiar lines of his lips with her finger, then stared intently into his soft blue eyes for the first time in months. Whatever truths she was looking for that night, she found again, in his eyes. There was nothing spellbinding about them now, just loving eyes that reflected the hopes of a wayward soul that was desperately seeking redemption and found it. He slid out of the truck and walked around to her side to open her door. Hoping the goodwill would continue, he walked her to the porch and stood just outside the door. "Wanna' talk awhile? he asked. "It's still early and it's the weekend." Tara was far beyond conversation at this point. She was standing face to face with the only man she'd ever truly loved, and wanted nothing more than to wake up tomorrow morning wrapped in his strong arms! "Sure," she said. " Let's have a glass of wine for old time's sake. " Still like Merlot?" she asked. " Too bad!" she laughed, before he could answer. "I can't afford the good stuff any more. All's I've got are Wild Berry Wine Coolers." They laughed and flopped down together in his favorite old recliner, startling the cat and removing the remote control from underneath them. This is as good as it gets, she thought, nestled in Dillon's arms. With four wine coolers to her credit, she mustered enough nerve to lead him up the stairs to their bedroom. She polished off the last of her drink, and brazenly pushed him onto their four-poster bed, slowly unbuttoning his shirt, and unzipping his Levi's. "Jeez," she thought. "He's still amazing," she tells herself as she runs her hands across his muscular chest. Then she slowly began undressing herself down to her black g-string, and stretched out on the bed beside him. He trails a finger down her stomach, sending tremors throughout her entire body. He was home. ------------------------------------------------------------ The alarm goes off much too early for Saturday morning. Tara smiles lazily, stretches, and reaches across the bed for Dillon, finding only cold sheets and an empty pillow. Where was he? What happened? She sat up in bed, confused and disoriented, trying to focus her eyes in the early morning light. She was still dizzy from the wine. "Dillon?" She called, looking around the room. "Oh God." she moaned. "Not again." Wasn't that the scent of his Old Spice still lingering on the pillow, or was the dream just a little more vivid this time? No, she thought, just the pungent smell of her leftover wine cooler on the nightstand. "I'm losing it," she thinks aloud. Dreams...damn, was that all that was left of their marriage? She had written this script so many times in her mind that it was beginning to take on a life of its own. It just felt so real... Overcome with heartache and a painful dose of early morning reality, she draws her knees up to her chin and rocks herself as if comforting a small child. Perhaps she wasn't as strong as she believed. Perhaps it was time to see a shrink, and get some Prozac. "Definitely," she noted, tossing her pillow at the alarm clock. She drags herself into the shower, and lets the warm water beat on her face and hair, hoping she'll just wash down the drain with the rest of her misery. "Why can't I get over him?" she asks herself. "I've gotta' stop dreaming, and get on with my life. I've gotta' let him go...and I've gotta' stop talking to myself out loud. This isn't healthy." She towels off briskly, slipping into her comfy white robe and dutifully heads downstairs to begin yet another loveless, boring weekend alone. She caught a glimpse of herself in the hallway mirror as she passed. "Ugh!" she groaned. "I'm a mess. I need some caffeine and a Slim Fast." The cat darted in front of her as she rounded the corner to the kitchen, stirring up a string of expletives from both of them. Even the cat was giving her attitude this morning, and she was in no mood for any of it. "Pancakes!" she heard as she entered the room. "Huh? --Dillon???" she blurts, startled by the reality standing beside the breakfast table. "You're here! God, I mean... oh wow--this is so weird." "I thought I dreamed all of this, and when I woke up, you weren't..." "No, baby, I'm still here... and last night was no dream, it was my fantasy!" "I remembered how much you liked McDonald's pancakes on Saturday mornings, and I thought I'd surprise you." "Look,they came with hash browns, too." "All this-- and hash browns, too. Awesome." she marveled. |