“I know things are crazy. I know we’ve had a lot thrown our way in a rather short time.” His finger continues its slow torture. “But none of it changes a thing. I’ve denied myself of a lot over the past two years and I’ve made tons of mistakes. I’m not denying this. I’m in love with you, Candace. I know it with certainty. When I look at you, touch you, get near you, or even when we’re apart and I think of you, love is the only thing I feel. Last night I didn’t want to put a label on it and scare you but as soon as I got home and I read your letter, I just knew. The very thought of never seeing you again shook me.”
His hand moves and each finger glides up onto my leg one by one. The skin of his hand on my skin ignites the flame that always burns when I’m with him. The slow, torturous burn grows hotter with every second that passes. Methodically he moves his hand over and across my lap. Our hands meet and intertwine. My chest is moving up and down rapidly. I’m chewing the hell out of the inside of my cheek and huge butterfly wings are fluttering in my stomach. The sick feeling is gone, replaced with something else; nervous and amazing energy.
He reaches up and cradles my face. “I know we don’t know a lot about each other. But I want to know everything. I want you in my life.” His thumb rubs back and forth across my cheek bone. “Please tell me everything’s not lost for us.” My eyes search his for the right response. Janette’s words surface and I choose to speak what I feel.
“I want you, too. Nothing’s lost.”
After staying up half the night talking about our lives like where we grew up, went to school, and a few other basic things people usually learn through a normal dating process, we fell asleep arm in arm on my sofa. He’s in the shower now and I can’t help but feel weird knowing there’s a man in my shower. It’s all so strange, yet I feel comforted having him here. Coffee is brewing and I’m attempting to make a small breakfast for us. Making coffee for him feels oddly natural and I smile remembering our first night together and how nervous I was. Lost in my thoughts of how bizarre everything has been since the day I made the crazy decision to do something so unlike myself and go on a sex hook up website, I can’t remove the smile from my face. Even with the twists and turns things have taken I feel happy having him here with me. Is that love? What does falling in love really feel like? I loved James. I’m certain I did. Maybe love can never be duplicated. Maybe love can reincarnate itself in a person’s life more than once. What if one love never resembles another but still contains the one ingredient that tells us all we love someone; the desire to put them first and make them happy, in turn giving you your own sense of happiness. When James cheated on me it was the first time I felt a hole being punched through my happiness with him. It was a betrayal to my love for him. Once the hole was there, happiness continued to seep out of me and I couldn’t continue loving him in the same way. He left me and I don’t know if we could’ve made it if he had wanted to stay. I’ve asked myself so many times how I could’ve fixed it. The fact is one person can never fix a broken relationship. It takes both.
For Brisban and Dawn, and their tragedy, Brisban was trying to fix it in his way while Dawn was on an entirely different path in her grieving process. They weren’t able to jointly work on their pain and ultimately that’s why it couldn’t work. Allowing another man into my life on more than a physical level is daunting and scares me half to death after my divorce but I also know how he makes me feel and being alone isn’t something I want. I don’t know if I’m in love with Brisban. What I do know is when we’re together I feel more alive, like my authentic self. When I realized I wanted more from him than just sex I knew things had shifted, even though I don’t know what the more is I want.
I pour the coffee into two cups and mull over all of the continuous thoughts running through my mind. Suddenly two large hands blanket my shoulders. I startle.
He presses his lips gently to curve of my neck. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. What are you doing over here so deep in thought that you didn’t even hear me come into the room?”
Turning around with my back now to the counter I take in the sight of him. Of course he’s not dressed—that would make talking easy. My eyes scan his tall masculine body. A solid white towel is secured around his waist at the lowest point possible, a scattered trail of hair disappearing just beneath it. The pronounced V of his physique is on grand display and every word I planned on saying is apparently busy looking too because they aren’t coming out of my mouth at the moment. Tiny rivulets of water drops are moving down his chest. His hair is disheveled and wet. He has a little more scruff than usual and in this very moment Brisban Calloway is truly a vision to behold. All of this hotness is in my kitchen and it’s all mine to have if I want it. When and how did this become my life?