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Reality Check
She was so tired she could barely breathe, no less
eat, yet sleep was something she had not enjoyed in months. Her
mind had occupied itself with the same thoughts for four years and
now with this revelation, her brain was painfully numb—and she
wished it would once again whirl with unanswered questions—anything
would be better than empty…..
I feel
so unsure as I take your hand and lead you to the dance floor. As
the music dies, something in your eyes calls to mind the silver
screen and all its sad good byes…
*Careless Whisper echoed against the darkened corners
of her room.
They had worked in the same office for the past four
years, not side by side, but in close proximity; her tidy reception
desk faced the yawning elevators—his crowded terminal sat in a far
corner of the massive suite, an arm’s reach from a window view of
Madison and 5th in NYC.
From the first day he walked into Macy’s
Communications, quietly disappearing behind his computer, she felt
the attraction. He did not seem to notice anything or anyone in the
room, including her. She knew his name was Benicio Sonaros, by the
nameplate on his desk. That’s all she knew, other than the
strong draw pulling her close to him.
Days dragged on, her interest
growing—he entirely indifferent—until one day they literally bumped
into one another in the elevator—she gazing up into the softest
brown eyes alive—he finding himself gripped by the sweetest blue
eyes he’d ever seen in a 5-foot-tall woman.
“Sorry,” he stammered, flustered. “You ok?” He
realized he had slammed into her shoulder with his quarterback
frame.
She was seductively silent, but nodded shyly in
exchange for words that would not come. His soft accent almost
stopped her heart.
She didn’t seem to intimidate him, as other women
did. He liked that. He also enjoyed the floral scent his senses
caught as her long blonde hair swirled around her face, cascading
down her back when she quickly turned her head. He thought she was
tiny, elegant and very pretty.
“You first,” he guided her out of the elevator as the
doors opened.
“Thank you,” she replied, too politely she cringed,
as they walked toward the garage exit of the large office complex.
“Hope it stopped raining,” she added lightly.
“I like the rain,” he responded with a smile,
breaking pace with her to head down another aisle of parked cars
toward his small compact. “Good bye.”
“Bye…”she called out, watching his long strides,
wishing they were driving off together, instead of facing her lonely
ride and empty apartment.
That was their first meeting ‘outside’ of the
office. After several months of brief ‘hello’s” and smiling nods,
they started eating lunch together—and relaxing in one another’s
company until finally he suggested they have dinner together. That
started 7 months of the so-called dating game.
When they were together they would laugh and talk
about general and somewhat intimate subjects, but never entered
risky personal areas of conversation. She learned he was 29, had 2
sisters and a brother in another state and that his parents were
divorced—and realized that she had to more or less pry information
out of him. During the first month he learned that she was almost
25, the only child of an Iowa farm couple, had lived on her own in
the city since graduating college at the age of 21—this was her
first job after college, and that she was loving, warm, cute, funny,
very approachable and could be a danger to him. Other than that,
they seemed a well-matched couple who thoroughly enjoyed each
other’s company on a daily basis. When they were not together
exploring NY restaurants and shops, they’d be at work glancing
across the room at each other, or talking on the phone.
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