Enjoy Going Down by Lianna Ramone
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Going DownThey met again nearly fifteen years after saying goodbye with one purpose: a single, hot, steamy, no holds barred elevator ride. What they got was a ride that would change their lives forever.
Old fires that were never fanned burst into flame in this short story about a reunited couple fulfilling fantasies and coming to terms with the reality that sometimes you get more than you expected if only you'll believe. **Please note: Lianna Ramone does not write for children. These stories are aimed at an adult audience of 18 or older and are in no way meant for delicate readers. |
Their eyes met briefly as the elevator doors slid open and he stepped inside. He nodded, strolled to the opposite wall and leaned casually against the polished metal railing. She had looked down and away somewhat shyly, demurely. He watched her with open amusement and adoration. How long had it been? Nearly 15 years and he still wanted her every bit as much as he had back then.
He also wanted to speak. She knew and kept him silent with a single finger pressed to pursed lips. Her eyes, brown pools of mischief, ran across the carpeted floor and climbed up his body. How quickly her shyness had vanished! With a smile that matched her eyes, she pressed the button that would send the elevator upward. Hands went to her slender waist and released the wide black belt before continuing a gradual, sensual ascent up her body, grazing over her own breasts and stopping to caress the delicate flesh of her neck. He watched, his lips twitching. The smile was a delightful mixture of longing and mirth. Slowly, salaciously, buttons were worked free of their holes. Black pumps were casually discarded to reveal stocking-clad feet. Beneath their sheer opaqueness peeked highly manicured toenails dressed in glossy red polish. Red, his favorite color! He was surprised she hadn’t worn red through and through, though her dark skirt and peacock blue blouse better matched the business façade she had tried to portray … until the elevator began to move.
Piece by piece, her outer clothing was removed, fluttering carelessly to the floor to reveal matching lace bra, silk panties, and stockings complete with garter belt to hold them up. Nice, he thought … it must be of an extremely fine quality as his body told him he wanted it removed, and quickly. He’d told her once that the nicer lingerie was, the faster it seemed to come off. She’d chosen the best for this occasion, no doubt.
Again she pressed the circular black button. Only this time, the elevator stopped with a sudden jerk between floors. The fleeting thought that an alarm should sound was pushed from his head by her approach. He swallowed hard, breathed deeply. She smelled good…a hint of Asian Pear mixed with her own natural scent. His breath caught as she leaned against him. Turning her face up to his, lips slightly parted, without words she beckoned him to kiss her. Softly, her hands ran up his chest, around his neck and into his dark hair pulling his head to her. Willingly, he acquiesced.
As their mouths met she shuddered in certain anticipation. He smiled against her lips. She felt it and pulled away to search his face, taking in every detail. He looked as handsome as ever. More distinguished, perhaps. Still, he was the same. She liked the familiar feel of him.
“Are you laughing at me?” she teased.
“Not at all. Just happy to be here, actually. Happy with your response.” He laughed. It was a sound she had always loved.
“Mmmmm,” she answered as again she pulled his head toward hers. Experienced fingers worked at the black leather belt around his waist, freeing it from its buckling captor. Buttons were released, zipper undone, shirt and pants removed. Undergarments alone remained.
She kissed his chest, her hair tickling his chin. His fingers played along her spine causing her to wiggle and press more tightly against him. Warm hands ran up her back. Thumbs hooked the thin straps of the silk garment trapping her breasts, and as his caress inched down her arms, the warm mounds spilled out against his chest.
She wiggled against him, moaning as her lips once more found his. Her breath came shallow and fast letting him know with certainty of her desire for him. Again he smiled. It had been her idea to meet here … his fantasy, but her idea. She’d planned it all. The time, the place, the fact that he would enter the elevator on the 3rd floor instead of the 1st with her, the attire, the mood … She’d also planned on being in charge, of showing him exactly what he might have had all those years before if she hadn't been such a prude.
What she hadn’t planned on was the greatness of her body’s response to his presence, his touch. Ooohh, she wasn’t used to this! As the founder of her own successful internet business, she was used to being her own boss. Unlike that little school girl he used to know, she was always the one in charge.
“Mmmmm.” The sound came involuntarily as he pressed the small of her back, tightening the contact of their bodies, warm flesh melding together. Her eyes, wild with desire, darted ravenously across his face. They begged him to help her make the feeling last while also asking him to hurry. He kissed her neck. Hands entwining in her honey hair, pulled her head back just as he had so many times in his mind. Gently he lowered them to the floor. In his fantasy, he’d always remained standing, leaning into the woman as he lifted her against the rail. But this was not an unknown woman in his fantasy. This was her and it seemed somehow more fitting that they lay together.
There was no resistance. Her eyes fluttered, lids were heavy with desire, as he pushed her to the carpet beneath. No thought was given to the many feet that had tread there before it became their bed of fantasy and dreams. Their only thoughts were of them, together … as one. Now.
He hovered above her, taking in every detail of her face, the way she stared up at him, eyes smoldering with long-suppressed desire. Her upturned button nose twitched slightly in her attempt to steady her breathing. Her tongue darted out to moisten naturally rosy lips … a tongue he’d imagined lapping slick moisture off his head before those lips slid over his thick shaft to shoot pleasure throughout his body. He felt himself growing behind the flimsy fabric of his shorts and wished they were already off. He’d love nothing more than to slide her thin panties to the side and slam into her at full speed, working himself into a frenzy before pulling out at the last possible moment to spray hot, glistening cum over her mound and belly…
And yet, at the same time, that wasn’t what he wanted at all. He wanted to move over her in slow, sweet torment, leaving her to think about and want again and again what he knew he could offer. He’d perfected his methods of pleasuring a woman, and in turn releasing himself, having had his choice of women over the years. Still, he’d had this fantasy about her … the girl he’d dated in High School, the sexy, serious quiet girl who’d sat in front of him in English class. Advanced in everything academically, she was two years younger than him which made her set herself off limits until his Senior year. Finally, after turning him down countless times, she’d relented, allowing him to take her to the Sweetheart dance. He smiled thinking about one time when she’d told him that someday if he believed hard enough maybe she would say yes. And then she had. That day was forever etched in his memory.
“I’m sixteen today,” she’d said one morning when she came into class and he’d asked why she was so chipper, not that she wasn’t always – he’d never seen anyone so hope filled about everything. That was one of the things he’d always loved about her, but that day it was more than her usual cup half full attitude that had her feeling giddy.
“Ah, does that mean you’ll go out with me now?” He’d leaned toward her as he spoke and, for the first time, she hadn’t pulled back though she had bit at her lower lip, her chin tipping down toward her chest. That bit of shyness in her was so sexy, even then. It left him believing in her hope and he was elated when she nodded her head.
She’d gone on her first date and received her first kiss on the same night, both with him. And while they’d dated the rest of that year, he’d never gotten more than an accidental glimpse of her breasts exposed from her oversized sweater neckline as she’d climbed across the seat of one of the activity vans. Not for lack of trying either! She’d simply turned him down, reminding him he’d be leaving after the end of the year and she wanted more permanence from whomever it was that happened to be lucky enough to be her first.
She’d been right, he supposed. Summer ended and he left. Before long, each had gone on to separate lives until they’d run across each other earlier that year at an airport with her heading North and him going South. She was newly divorced, him a few years out of his own mishap. There hadn’t been much time to talk but he did manage to confess about the sweater incident. They’d both laughed and her eyes had glimmered a bit too brightly when she’d reached up to give him a peck on the cheek when her flight was called.
“Let’s remedy that in the near future, shall we?” she’d asked in a voice too husky for him to miss her intent. His pants had tightened immediately, his voice failing. All he could do was nod and watch her walk away before looking at the business card she’d slipped into his hand that held numbers offering a potential promise that was almost too good for him to believe.
The next few months were filled with phone calls and emails – a whole lot of getting to know you all over again conversations and maybe just a little more than a bit of fantasy sharing that had led them to where they were. He’d walked into his elevator fantasy believing himself fully prepared, loving the fact that she wanted him to the point that it exuded from ever trembling fiber of her being.
But, he wasn’t going to lie to himself. He’d also wanted to see something else in her eyes, something he’d never really entertained all those years ago. He searched the liquid pools as she pressed using her hips to tap against him in a sensually alluring motion. He kissed her as his hand ran down her body, across her firm ass and up to the back of her knee. She quivered as he lifted her leg. Willingly she wrapped it around his back. He could feel the moistness of her desire, even through her panties, imploring him to join them, taking them to that place where two become one. With tilted hips, she pressed against his back with her leg, reaching down to slide her panties over. How easily she directed him inside, slowly welcoming him with an appreciative, acknowledging moan. With greedy desire, her body engulfed him, her hands caressed as her mouth devoured; her mind numb to all but need and fulfillment.
“You’re not making this easy, you know,” he growled through gritted teeth. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve dreamed of making love to you?”
“Si.. Since I was sixteen?” She could barely speak. He could tell she’d never been this close to the edge of thoughtlessness before.
He shook his head, reached down to lick one of her hardened nipples. She squealed in delight, slamming herself harder against his throbbing shaft. “Before. I remember the first day of your Freshman year. I was a Junior and your locker was at the end of the row where the two halls connected.”
She looked at him as if he were mad, like the last thing she cared about was Freshman year. Until he went on…
“Every time you bent down to pick up your books, your jeans spreading tight over your sweet ass, I knew just inches away was right where I wanted to be.”
“Uhmmmm. I wish you’d fucked me then,” she whispered. He could see her mental trip back to that time.
“No. You were too good, too sweet to be fucked.” He shook his head. Now he was glad it hadn’t happened, though at the time he’d have given anything to have gotten into her pants.
Her eyes clouded with confusion even as her body propelled her into that zone where she teetered on the edge. Thoughts of High School quickly vanished for them in the wake of ever-heightening need.
“Please. I need to… I need you to… Please, make me come.” Her frenzy had reached a peak even he could not deny.
“Tell me you could have loved me,” he whispered, his cheek against hers. “Tell me and I’ll give you what you want.”
She didn’t answer. Words were impossible for her at that point as he hastened, his hands exploring, his body hard against her and within her, driving her to an uncertain echelon; a level far above any place she’d ever been. But he could see it in her eyes right before her body convulsed, her wet folds gripping him, sucking, demanding, taking them both over the edge, letting them both know that neither of them were fully in charge, no matter what either of them wanted to believe..
She clung to him with a need born of the ferocity of her desire for him. Hot tears stung her dark eyes as sanity returned bringing its unwanted friend - reality. She stared at him. He kissed away her tears. She smiled and nodded. His heart jumped.
“Yes,” she spoke softly. “I could have loved you.” And then she added, “I did…and do.”
His brows drew down. She could see the question in his eyes; the one that was mirrored in her own.
Now what? The words hung between them. She shook her head and kissed him one last time before pushing him away to lay beside her.
He had no idea how long they lay there, eyes closed, fingers barely touching then drifting apart only to find one another yet again. He supposed he must have dozed off, was sure of it when the elevator gave a sudden jerk and began to move. He leaped to his feet, quickly flinging on garments in a hasty attempt to beat the rapid descent of the car. Dazed and confused his eyes darted about. Where was she? The scent and feel of her hung heavily in the air, on him. How? He bent down as the elevator came to a stop, a single silk stocking softly caressing his hands. He picked it up and stood.
The door slid open. The attendant smiled at him, his eyes going from the man’s face to the stocking and back again.
“Enjoy your ride?” The attendant chuckled.
The man quickly stuffed the sheer fabric in his pocket. His hand remained on it.
“Well, she left this for you.” He handed him an envelope. “Said don’t open it until you get home.”
Home, he thought. Alone. Without her. He wished he was going home to find her waiting for him. If he believed hard enough… Not this time.
As he drove across town he didn’t feel like a man who’d just made love to a beautiful woman and fulfilled one of his fantasies in the process. He felt lonely, unfulfilled, empty. His fingers caressed the envelope. He lifted it to his nose. He smiled. It smelled like her. He began to replay the ride in his mind, melancholy mixing with resurgent desire. He pulled over, unable to suppress the urge to open the envelope. Inside was a card. The cover portrayed a magnificently rendered drawing of the two of them. He was reminded suddenly that she’d been something of an artist in High School. It was breathtaking. He stared at it for some time before opening the card. Inside it read “Make a wish…then dare to believe.” At the bottom, in small letters she had added, “I knew you wouldn’t wait until you got home.” It was accompanied by the smiley face they often used in correspondence. It made him laugh. She made him laugh. It always felt so good, especially in his world where seriousness and suppressed dreams and desires reigned.
But believing in his wish? There was no way. No way would he’d find her waiting for him when he got home. He realized the dream did not end there. He wanted her to be there not only for that day but always. He wanted them to find a way to mesh their lives together, to bridge the gap from where he’d let her go in the first place, to replace all those lost years with new memories in the making. He wanted …
As he turned onto his street he thought his mind was playing tricks on him. There were lights on in his house and an unknown car in the drive.
“It can’t be…” he said softly. His stomach jumped. Anticipation filled him. It was all so surreal. As he stepped from the car his mind swirled, refusing to lay hold of what he hoped he might find.
The door was unlocked. He proceeded cautiously. Years of working with trouble had taught him to be extra careful. Quietly he stepped inside and listened. Silence. Again he tried to put all the pieces into their proper place. They wouldn’t fit. He leaned against the door and closed his eyes. When he opened them again he was sure he’d either be dead or life would have returned to normal.
“Welcome home.” Her voice startled him, surrounded him, and his eyes snapped open to find her sitting at the top of the stairs, elbows on knees, head in hands, watching him.
“How?” he asked.
“I always told you to believe.” She shrugged. “I wasn’t sure if you would, so I believed for you. For me.” She smiled and held out her hand to him as she rose to her feet.
She met him halfway down the stairs, her eyes every bit as hope filled as they’d always been, and as his fingers surrounded hers, he realized, for the first time in a long time he was exactly where he belonged. It was crazy, but somehow, they’d make this work. She’d been right all along. All he had to do was believe.
He also wanted to speak. She knew and kept him silent with a single finger pressed to pursed lips. Her eyes, brown pools of mischief, ran across the carpeted floor and climbed up his body. How quickly her shyness had vanished! With a smile that matched her eyes, she pressed the button that would send the elevator upward. Hands went to her slender waist and released the wide black belt before continuing a gradual, sensual ascent up her body, grazing over her own breasts and stopping to caress the delicate flesh of her neck. He watched, his lips twitching. The smile was a delightful mixture of longing and mirth. Slowly, salaciously, buttons were worked free of their holes. Black pumps were casually discarded to reveal stocking-clad feet. Beneath their sheer opaqueness peeked highly manicured toenails dressed in glossy red polish. Red, his favorite color! He was surprised she hadn’t worn red through and through, though her dark skirt and peacock blue blouse better matched the business façade she had tried to portray … until the elevator began to move.
Piece by piece, her outer clothing was removed, fluttering carelessly to the floor to reveal matching lace bra, silk panties, and stockings complete with garter belt to hold them up. Nice, he thought … it must be of an extremely fine quality as his body told him he wanted it removed, and quickly. He’d told her once that the nicer lingerie was, the faster it seemed to come off. She’d chosen the best for this occasion, no doubt.
Again she pressed the circular black button. Only this time, the elevator stopped with a sudden jerk between floors. The fleeting thought that an alarm should sound was pushed from his head by her approach. He swallowed hard, breathed deeply. She smelled good…a hint of Asian Pear mixed with her own natural scent. His breath caught as she leaned against him. Turning her face up to his, lips slightly parted, without words she beckoned him to kiss her. Softly, her hands ran up his chest, around his neck and into his dark hair pulling his head to her. Willingly, he acquiesced.
As their mouths met she shuddered in certain anticipation. He smiled against her lips. She felt it and pulled away to search his face, taking in every detail. He looked as handsome as ever. More distinguished, perhaps. Still, he was the same. She liked the familiar feel of him.
“Are you laughing at me?” she teased.
“Not at all. Just happy to be here, actually. Happy with your response.” He laughed. It was a sound she had always loved.
“Mmmmm,” she answered as again she pulled his head toward hers. Experienced fingers worked at the black leather belt around his waist, freeing it from its buckling captor. Buttons were released, zipper undone, shirt and pants removed. Undergarments alone remained.
She kissed his chest, her hair tickling his chin. His fingers played along her spine causing her to wiggle and press more tightly against him. Warm hands ran up her back. Thumbs hooked the thin straps of the silk garment trapping her breasts, and as his caress inched down her arms, the warm mounds spilled out against his chest.
She wiggled against him, moaning as her lips once more found his. Her breath came shallow and fast letting him know with certainty of her desire for him. Again he smiled. It had been her idea to meet here … his fantasy, but her idea. She’d planned it all. The time, the place, the fact that he would enter the elevator on the 3rd floor instead of the 1st with her, the attire, the mood … She’d also planned on being in charge, of showing him exactly what he might have had all those years before if she hadn't been such a prude.
What she hadn’t planned on was the greatness of her body’s response to his presence, his touch. Ooohh, she wasn’t used to this! As the founder of her own successful internet business, she was used to being her own boss. Unlike that little school girl he used to know, she was always the one in charge.
“Mmmmm.” The sound came involuntarily as he pressed the small of her back, tightening the contact of their bodies, warm flesh melding together. Her eyes, wild with desire, darted ravenously across his face. They begged him to help her make the feeling last while also asking him to hurry. He kissed her neck. Hands entwining in her honey hair, pulled her head back just as he had so many times in his mind. Gently he lowered them to the floor. In his fantasy, he’d always remained standing, leaning into the woman as he lifted her against the rail. But this was not an unknown woman in his fantasy. This was her and it seemed somehow more fitting that they lay together.
There was no resistance. Her eyes fluttered, lids were heavy with desire, as he pushed her to the carpet beneath. No thought was given to the many feet that had tread there before it became their bed of fantasy and dreams. Their only thoughts were of them, together … as one. Now.
He hovered above her, taking in every detail of her face, the way she stared up at him, eyes smoldering with long-suppressed desire. Her upturned button nose twitched slightly in her attempt to steady her breathing. Her tongue darted out to moisten naturally rosy lips … a tongue he’d imagined lapping slick moisture off his head before those lips slid over his thick shaft to shoot pleasure throughout his body. He felt himself growing behind the flimsy fabric of his shorts and wished they were already off. He’d love nothing more than to slide her thin panties to the side and slam into her at full speed, working himself into a frenzy before pulling out at the last possible moment to spray hot, glistening cum over her mound and belly…
And yet, at the same time, that wasn’t what he wanted at all. He wanted to move over her in slow, sweet torment, leaving her to think about and want again and again what he knew he could offer. He’d perfected his methods of pleasuring a woman, and in turn releasing himself, having had his choice of women over the years. Still, he’d had this fantasy about her … the girl he’d dated in High School, the sexy, serious quiet girl who’d sat in front of him in English class. Advanced in everything academically, she was two years younger than him which made her set herself off limits until his Senior year. Finally, after turning him down countless times, she’d relented, allowing him to take her to the Sweetheart dance. He smiled thinking about one time when she’d told him that someday if he believed hard enough maybe she would say yes. And then she had. That day was forever etched in his memory.
“I’m sixteen today,” she’d said one morning when she came into class and he’d asked why she was so chipper, not that she wasn’t always – he’d never seen anyone so hope filled about everything. That was one of the things he’d always loved about her, but that day it was more than her usual cup half full attitude that had her feeling giddy.
“Ah, does that mean you’ll go out with me now?” He’d leaned toward her as he spoke and, for the first time, she hadn’t pulled back though she had bit at her lower lip, her chin tipping down toward her chest. That bit of shyness in her was so sexy, even then. It left him believing in her hope and he was elated when she nodded her head.
She’d gone on her first date and received her first kiss on the same night, both with him. And while they’d dated the rest of that year, he’d never gotten more than an accidental glimpse of her breasts exposed from her oversized sweater neckline as she’d climbed across the seat of one of the activity vans. Not for lack of trying either! She’d simply turned him down, reminding him he’d be leaving after the end of the year and she wanted more permanence from whomever it was that happened to be lucky enough to be her first.
She’d been right, he supposed. Summer ended and he left. Before long, each had gone on to separate lives until they’d run across each other earlier that year at an airport with her heading North and him going South. She was newly divorced, him a few years out of his own mishap. There hadn’t been much time to talk but he did manage to confess about the sweater incident. They’d both laughed and her eyes had glimmered a bit too brightly when she’d reached up to give him a peck on the cheek when her flight was called.
“Let’s remedy that in the near future, shall we?” she’d asked in a voice too husky for him to miss her intent. His pants had tightened immediately, his voice failing. All he could do was nod and watch her walk away before looking at the business card she’d slipped into his hand that held numbers offering a potential promise that was almost too good for him to believe.
The next few months were filled with phone calls and emails – a whole lot of getting to know you all over again conversations and maybe just a little more than a bit of fantasy sharing that had led them to where they were. He’d walked into his elevator fantasy believing himself fully prepared, loving the fact that she wanted him to the point that it exuded from ever trembling fiber of her being.
But, he wasn’t going to lie to himself. He’d also wanted to see something else in her eyes, something he’d never really entertained all those years ago. He searched the liquid pools as she pressed using her hips to tap against him in a sensually alluring motion. He kissed her as his hand ran down her body, across her firm ass and up to the back of her knee. She quivered as he lifted her leg. Willingly she wrapped it around his back. He could feel the moistness of her desire, even through her panties, imploring him to join them, taking them to that place where two become one. With tilted hips, she pressed against his back with her leg, reaching down to slide her panties over. How easily she directed him inside, slowly welcoming him with an appreciative, acknowledging moan. With greedy desire, her body engulfed him, her hands caressed as her mouth devoured; her mind numb to all but need and fulfillment.
“You’re not making this easy, you know,” he growled through gritted teeth. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve dreamed of making love to you?”
“Si.. Since I was sixteen?” She could barely speak. He could tell she’d never been this close to the edge of thoughtlessness before.
He shook his head, reached down to lick one of her hardened nipples. She squealed in delight, slamming herself harder against his throbbing shaft. “Before. I remember the first day of your Freshman year. I was a Junior and your locker was at the end of the row where the two halls connected.”
She looked at him as if he were mad, like the last thing she cared about was Freshman year. Until he went on…
“Every time you bent down to pick up your books, your jeans spreading tight over your sweet ass, I knew just inches away was right where I wanted to be.”
“Uhmmmm. I wish you’d fucked me then,” she whispered. He could see her mental trip back to that time.
“No. You were too good, too sweet to be fucked.” He shook his head. Now he was glad it hadn’t happened, though at the time he’d have given anything to have gotten into her pants.
Her eyes clouded with confusion even as her body propelled her into that zone where she teetered on the edge. Thoughts of High School quickly vanished for them in the wake of ever-heightening need.
“Please. I need to… I need you to… Please, make me come.” Her frenzy had reached a peak even he could not deny.
“Tell me you could have loved me,” he whispered, his cheek against hers. “Tell me and I’ll give you what you want.”
She didn’t answer. Words were impossible for her at that point as he hastened, his hands exploring, his body hard against her and within her, driving her to an uncertain echelon; a level far above any place she’d ever been. But he could see it in her eyes right before her body convulsed, her wet folds gripping him, sucking, demanding, taking them both over the edge, letting them both know that neither of them were fully in charge, no matter what either of them wanted to believe..
She clung to him with a need born of the ferocity of her desire for him. Hot tears stung her dark eyes as sanity returned bringing its unwanted friend - reality. She stared at him. He kissed away her tears. She smiled and nodded. His heart jumped.
“Yes,” she spoke softly. “I could have loved you.” And then she added, “I did…and do.”
His brows drew down. She could see the question in his eyes; the one that was mirrored in her own.
Now what? The words hung between them. She shook her head and kissed him one last time before pushing him away to lay beside her.
He had no idea how long they lay there, eyes closed, fingers barely touching then drifting apart only to find one another yet again. He supposed he must have dozed off, was sure of it when the elevator gave a sudden jerk and began to move. He leaped to his feet, quickly flinging on garments in a hasty attempt to beat the rapid descent of the car. Dazed and confused his eyes darted about. Where was she? The scent and feel of her hung heavily in the air, on him. How? He bent down as the elevator came to a stop, a single silk stocking softly caressing his hands. He picked it up and stood.
The door slid open. The attendant smiled at him, his eyes going from the man’s face to the stocking and back again.
“Enjoy your ride?” The attendant chuckled.
The man quickly stuffed the sheer fabric in his pocket. His hand remained on it.
“Well, she left this for you.” He handed him an envelope. “Said don’t open it until you get home.”
Home, he thought. Alone. Without her. He wished he was going home to find her waiting for him. If he believed hard enough… Not this time.
As he drove across town he didn’t feel like a man who’d just made love to a beautiful woman and fulfilled one of his fantasies in the process. He felt lonely, unfulfilled, empty. His fingers caressed the envelope. He lifted it to his nose. He smiled. It smelled like her. He began to replay the ride in his mind, melancholy mixing with resurgent desire. He pulled over, unable to suppress the urge to open the envelope. Inside was a card. The cover portrayed a magnificently rendered drawing of the two of them. He was reminded suddenly that she’d been something of an artist in High School. It was breathtaking. He stared at it for some time before opening the card. Inside it read “Make a wish…then dare to believe.” At the bottom, in small letters she had added, “I knew you wouldn’t wait until you got home.” It was accompanied by the smiley face they often used in correspondence. It made him laugh. She made him laugh. It always felt so good, especially in his world where seriousness and suppressed dreams and desires reigned.
But believing in his wish? There was no way. No way would he’d find her waiting for him when he got home. He realized the dream did not end there. He wanted her to be there not only for that day but always. He wanted them to find a way to mesh their lives together, to bridge the gap from where he’d let her go in the first place, to replace all those lost years with new memories in the making. He wanted …
As he turned onto his street he thought his mind was playing tricks on him. There were lights on in his house and an unknown car in the drive.
“It can’t be…” he said softly. His stomach jumped. Anticipation filled him. It was all so surreal. As he stepped from the car his mind swirled, refusing to lay hold of what he hoped he might find.
The door was unlocked. He proceeded cautiously. Years of working with trouble had taught him to be extra careful. Quietly he stepped inside and listened. Silence. Again he tried to put all the pieces into their proper place. They wouldn’t fit. He leaned against the door and closed his eyes. When he opened them again he was sure he’d either be dead or life would have returned to normal.
“Welcome home.” Her voice startled him, surrounded him, and his eyes snapped open to find her sitting at the top of the stairs, elbows on knees, head in hands, watching him.
“How?” he asked.
“I always told you to believe.” She shrugged. “I wasn’t sure if you would, so I believed for you. For me.” She smiled and held out her hand to him as she rose to her feet.
She met him halfway down the stairs, her eyes every bit as hope filled as they’d always been, and as his fingers surrounded hers, he realized, for the first time in a long time he was exactly where he belonged. It was crazy, but somehow, they’d make this work. She’d been right all along. All he had to do was believe.