Chapter 4

Her

“Here we are.”  I say, followed only by the silenced snore of my passenger. Him.  I chuckle quietly.  Then reality hits me.  How did I get here?  I wonder what pushed me to do such an impulsive move.  Better yet, what the hell was I thinking?  Maybe is the thought of not seeing him after tonight. Never again.  

I help him out of the car.  He places his strong arms around my neck. I swoon.  Not because of his weight. Which is weird, it should bother me.  But because I stare directly at his beautiful features.  Very closely.  I kind of like being able to look at him like this, without feeling guilty. Without blame.

The walk toward his house is unhurried.  I don’t complain.  I grasp carefully every second that I share his air.  My thoughts drift away.  Far away with him, in a place where we both could be happy. Together. I hope we were.

I wake from my daydream at the sight of the door. “Please, tell me you have the keys.” I whisper mostly to myself.  But I shake him a little.  It seems that alcohol did a big number on him tonight.  He appears to react a little and I lay him on the door.  “Keys?”  I ask him, staring directly into his semi-opened eyes.  Oh those beautiful green eyes.

After a long pause, he says: “In my pocket jacket.”  I proceed to search.  My hands wander the outside of his jacket with no luck.  He seems kind of confused.  But he leans closer.  My first guess is that he wants to help me on my task, so I too step closer. 

I continue to check the inside pockets as well.  Taking in his scent. A mixture of tequila, baby powder and ocean mist.  It is enthralling.  His body is firm yet soft to the touch.  His chest is wide, smooth and shapely. Oh God, what am I thinking?

I lose track of what I am doing. For a moment, I close my eyes.  Reality feels more like a dream than I care to think.  I am drawn to him.  Unexpectedly.  Completely. “Stop!” My brain yells at once.  I find the keys.  I open my eyes in a flash.  He closes his again.  

Once inside I notice that nobody is home.  Except for us, now.  Nobody else.  The living room is huge and tastefully arranged.  A gamma of terracotta colors adorns the walls.  A white sofa and coordinated ottoman are the main pieces of the stage.  Complemented by a glass monogamy table. Very beautiful.

I keep looking for a more comfortable place to put him down to rest.  White upholstery is not a very good friend of hangover proceedings.  I know this by personal experience.  I find another room.  A study?  A contrasted coziness to the rest of the house.  At least to what I have seen so far.

“Let’s put you here.”  I say. And he plops down the couch.  Almost instantly, he adjusts himself into it.  I need a puff of fresh air.  Tumbling across the hall I see the bathroom.  I enter.  A splash of cold water on my face brings me to life once again.  A chill. 

I feel as is something is out of place.  Not at all what I expected. Only one toothbrush? There must me more to him than what I know.  I bet he has secrets too.  This could be a night of discoveries. I think.

Chapter 3

Him

I feel the truck slow down and enter a graveled driveway. Apparently, my driveway.  She puts the car to a complete stop. Too sudden. My head continues to spin, but awareness is downing on me.  Bit by bit.  I squint. Yes, it is my house I see close by.

Gazing around the stillness of the night, I wonder if I slept through the entire trip.  After all, it’s almost an hour from the bar.  I do remember taking glimpses at her.  Quick shots of an angel in my head.  Oh God! Almost an entire bottle of tequila and all I can think about is her.

I find it funny though.  That she drove me home? The ironies of life.  The very reason that got me this drunk in the first place. Her. If only she knew. If only I was brave enough to tell. I wish.

Silently, I support myself on her to get out of the truck.  Silently.  Mostly, because I don’t trust myself to form a coherent sentence at the moment.  But secretly, because if this is a dream, I don’t want to wake up.  Not yet.  Being so close to her nears heaven for me.

I follow her down the driveway and up to the porch stairs.  Intoxicated.  Yes, alcohol may have something to do with it.  But it is not all.  Her scent is exhilarating.  Her hair sways near my face and again, all I can think about is her.  All I can smell is her.  Cherries and cinnamon.

We stop before the massive wood-steel double door.  She spaces the distance between us.  I sigh.  She looks worried.  I give an unspoken curse for not being able to react. “Keys?”  I hear her ask.  That sweet voice.  She stares at me.  Those endearing eyes.  Keys!!  I shudder.

I remember vaguely putting them in my jacket earlier tonight.  Vaguely being the key word.  “In my jacket pocket.” I say not sure if it’s coming out as a statement or a question.  Shame. One that is quickly forgotten when I feel her hands roam my sides.  I lean.

Once again, she is close to me.  So close.  Being completely honest, I’m still not sure of what is going on.  Is she really here?  Or is my mind playing tricks on me?  I bend our dreary truth for a moment and imagine us together.  Coming home.  Together.

I take in her warmth.  Her touch.  My body instinctively responds to our unexpected proximity state.  I can’t do anything to prevent it.  She owns me, unknowingly.  Accidentally.  Or is it?  I bow my face even closer to hers.

The idea of kissing her luscious lips invades my mind. Right here. Right now.  No consequences measured.  She stops me.  I groan.  Disappointed.  Hurt.  Reality kicks me in the gut.  She finds the keys.  Dreamland seems more appealing now.  I remise.

I open my eyes.  What an odd night!  I discover myself lying on my couch.  Not a sight of her.  Did I dream it all?

Chapter 2

Her:

Ten years is too long for a single project.  I need to move on. It is time.  But for tonight, I will enjoy the celebration.  I think.  That is until I see him.  Once again he is isolated. Drunk?  I often imagine us being friends. We could have tried. But we didn’t. 

I wonder what makes him drink so hard. Every time.  I saw his wife earlier.  Maybe that has something to do with it.  Being this our last night “together”, I guess I will never know.  In the meantime, I try not to think about it. About him. Nothing good will ever come from that. 

I fail.  Watching him, brow to table, it breaks my heart.  I reach his table. He looks miserable.  “Hey!”  I call his attention.  “You have to stop drinking, like now!”  I say, but get no response.  He is almost unconscious.

Behind the back doors, I talk to the bar owner. Jimmy, a good friend of mine.  “I’ll leave my car here. Take the keys. I’ll call for them later.”  He looks at me in shock and then he jokes. “But you don’t even look tipsy!”  It is not uncommon for me to ask for this.  I often drink.  A lot.  As well.  I glare at Jimmy and point at him.  He immediately gets the situation and nods.

I drag him out the door.  Too heavy.  He maybe unconscious, but his subconscious is well aware that he is leaving the tequila bottle behind.  “I am taking you home.” Again, no response. Only a look that pierce my very skin. 

The journey elapses quietly.  So does the night.  I know the directions by heart. Though I have never entered his house. Their house.  He and his wife had invited us so many times. Too many. I managed to avoid it. Every time.  It was not an easy task to do.  We work and, sort of, hang together.  But overall, we spend almost every hour of every day together.  It had to be done that way. 

I recognize temptation when I see it. And he was it for me back then.  He still is now. I needed to keep him at arm’s length. If not more.  I yet can’t believe I’m pulling this off.  Taking him home.  I need to call his wife. Again.

“Lucy, I’m calling because your husband had a bit too much to drink tonight. Go figure. I’m driving him to your house.  I don’t know if you heard any of my previous messages, but please give me a call. Thanks!”

I am rolling down a no-luck road tonight.  First, I miss part of our farewell party. Second, I break my own rules of proximity with him. And now we are approaching his house and his wife is nowhere to be found.  Just my luck.

Is not the first time I go that way. Not even close.  Life is not easy for me and Brian.  We met too young. And got engaged too soon.  By the time I met him, the wedding was a work in progress. 

I never saw the trouble, anyway.  He showed no interest for me at the moment. None. I sometimes think, he even regrets me replacing his long time partner. A nice girl.  Very pretty too. 

We are approaching our destiny.  He looks at me. Confused. I swear I see a smirk on his lips. Maybe I’m the one who’s drunk.  Or maybe I’m just dreaming.

Chapter 1

Him:

It has been almost ten years since I met her. And though my reason is regretting that fact, deep down, my heart feels only joy for having her in my life. Somehow.

Everybody is happy. I see.  The occasion calls for it.  We have finished a long and exhausting project.  A hard, yet delighted, experience for all of us. Especially for me.

“I rather have my partner back.”  I said back then. Blind to new possibilities, to new people.  But after all, fate had its hand well played and planted her, for me. I think. A little too late. 

Now I feel like I want to turn back time, just to have one more moment. With her.

She is so full of life, so what my own life lacks of. Sometimes.  When I am with her, I tend to forget everything. Everyone. I need to get her out of my head. Now!

I have decided to drown all of this away. Tequila.  One shot, two shots… nothing.  A third? To forget her beautiful smile.  A fourth? To dismiss the fact that she completes me. A fifth? To… my wife.

Yes, she was here too, but not into the celebration.  She had come to talk to me. Privately.

“I left everything in place.” She said. My wife.  But I tried not to pay too much attention to the matter.  I focus on my drink.  She kisses my cheek and bids me good bye, heading for the door.  Everybody sees her. Even her. I dismay.

I ponder for a while how I got to this place. Not this place literally, but the place where my mind and soul are vanished now. A limbo.  My hands dance with the shot glasses. 

I don’t hate my wife. And as far as I am concerned, she does not hate me either.  We are friends. Good friends.  Always friends. There is just not enough passion left in our once burning love.  Gone.  Although it has been hard to adjust, it has been also relieving.

Going back to the subject of my fifth shot. Or was it sixth? I can’t tell for sure.  Ten years today and it seemed like a lifetime together.  All and all, this ends tonight.  Either I coward down myself into a corner and let her go, like I always do, or I brave up and tell her how I feel. How I really feel about her.  Tonight. 

Seems to me that the latter will not be happening.  I can barely stand straight. Damn tequila.

I do see her.  Enjoying the music. Dancing with our colleagues.  Sipping her drink. Oblivious to my presence. She looks more breathtaking than I can contain.  I turn around and ask for another shot.  

My forehead hits the table.  I lose all contact with reality.  My head is spinning.  Again.  Damn tequila.

I open my eyes, back to semi-consciousness. I am in my truck. How? On the passenger’s seat. When? I try to clear my fuzzy head and grip on whatever it is happening. I see her.  Driving my car?

I smile inwardly because, in all honesty, I can’t move a muscle.  I doze off again.

Some Introductory Notes

The story will be written alternating the narrator between Him and Her.  I did not write names for the main characters; thought secondary ones will be named.  It will keep your mind open to the possibilities of each one, even when you discover who they “really” are.

Sometimes there will be missing parts in one part that you will find on the following post. I did that on purpose to add little cliffhangers along the story.  Let me know if they are too confusing. 

I may add, probably at the end, a part written in third person, but I’m not sure yet. Let see how the story flows.

I’ll be posting Chapter 1 soon (maybe tomorrow) and, if I finish typing in time, also Chapter 2. Each chapter will be more or less 500 words. The style will strive in short sentences-paragraphs, to make it lighter.

This has not been "betaed" (hubby still refuses to read my stories), so I take full blame for spelling/grammatical errors.

Enjoy and feel free to review and comment.

Welcome Readers

The story you are about to read was born from a real person fanfiction (RPF) that came to mind a while ago. I know that lots of people are not too fond of RPFs, so I changed enough details to make it a good story on its own.

Though I may warn you all that if you are a true fan of them, like I am, you’ll find out eventually who I based these characters and plots on. Don’t be mad, I really don’t hope this happens in real life, it was just and idea that bothered my mind and wouldn't let me alone until I wrote it.

It’s still a work in progress, because most of the chapters are written in paper and I’m just typing my way through.

So here it goes: Between Love and Reality.