Shania, Pt. 4

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We decided on a little bistro close to our apartment building. It was kind of dark, cool, and intriguing. The food was excellent. I didn’t eat much, though, as I spent most of the meal just looking at the angel across from me. “What’s wrong?” she asked. I shook my head. “Not a thing. I just can’t get enough of looking at you. You make this dark room bright.” “Thank you, I think.” She beamed at me. “You’re so bright and sparkling. You just look pretty.” “That is so nice. I’m so pleased you think I’m pretty. I didn’t get to be pretty when Jerry was alive. He and his crew liked me to look hot, you know like Sandy at the end of Grease?” “Hot is great,” I grinned at her, “but you’re just made for pretty.” “I can be glam, too, you know.” Her voice and look were tantalizing. “I’ll bet you can,” I smiled. “Can you imagine me as sultry and smooth?” she laughed. “It’s a hard image, considering how bright and sparkling you look right now,” I confessed. “But, I saw that over the past couple of days. I never want you to be sad again, Shania, but the truth is, you look terrific in black. Very glamorous.” “The biker boys liked black, too,” she said, looking over my shoulder into space. “But they liked tube tops, leather shorts, high-heeled boots and stuff.” “Piercings and tattoos?” I asked. “Just my earlobes and a tiny tattoo on my hip.” “You have a tattoo on your hip?” I asked, amazed. She nodded and grinned. “A little, tiny tiger. I let you see it later when we get naked.” I stopped in mid-stroke, my fork hanging in mid-air. “We’re not doing that, Shania. I already told you.” “That was before you admitted you loved me.” I nodded, putting down my fork. “All the more reason not to.” “Eric,” she said, softly but very firmly, “I want you to love me, and I want you to make love to me. You’ve admitted you love me. Tell me why you refuse to make love to me.” “Because, Shania, there is a chance you won’t love me. If that happens, I don’t want you to feel you’ve been used, tricked, or have made a commitment beyond what you can deal with. I don’t want you ever to regret that we made love.” She leaned forward so she was nearly Göztepe escort in my face. Her voice was low and dangerous. “I will have you, Eric. You will be mine. I will hold you inside me and draw your love into me. I want that, and I want it tonight.” “It is because I love you that it won’t happen tonight, Shania, not on the night after you buried your husband.” She continued in the low, forceful and demanding voice. “I don’t give a fuck about that, Eric. That is the past. It is ancient history. He used me for his own gratification. What I want now is to share myself with you and for you to share yourself with me. I want us to be partners Eric. You can’t deny me that if you truly love me.” “You can’t blackmail me like that, Shania. I won’t let you use what I feel for you as leverage so you can manipulate me. We will make love when you can convince me that you are in love with me, not before.” “I don’t have to manipulate you, Eric. You already love me. You want to protect me, don’t you?” “Yes,” I nodded. “And, if I need anything, you’ll make sure I get it?” “I will provide for you, if that’s what you mean.” “Yes, that’s what I mean. And you won’t push me away from you, will you?” “No, I won’t do that.” “Will you let me come live with you in your apartment?” “If that’s what you want.” “And you’ll do damned near anything I ask of you, won’t you?” “Within reason,” I chuckled. “Eric, my husband is dead. I’m released. I’m free and alive. I want to celebrate that freedom and being alive.” “You don’t need me to do that,” I said softly. “But, I choose you,” she matched my tone. “I’m conveniently located,” I joked with her. It pissed her off. “You think it means that little to me?” her eyes flared and flashed. “If it was just a matter of fucking somebody, I could hook up with Stan.” “The jerk from this afternoon?” “Yeah. Honestly, Eric. I can’t figure out what you’re trying to do with this? Don’t you want to make love with me?” I leaned back in my chair and looked at her. “You have no idea how much. But, what I really want, Shania, is to hold you close to me. I want to feel Caddebostan escort bayan you breathe, touch your skin, caress you and enfold you. What I want is to wake up next to you. I want to know you are close to me, that I can reach out and touch you. I want your kisses and your touch. I want to know who you are, what your next thought will be, the desires of your heart and be the love of your life. That’s what I want. And, even more important, I want you to know that you can trust me to think of you first and always. I want you never to doubt that you are more important to me than life itself. Making love, sex? I want for you to be thrilled, exhilarated, energized, and delighted. I want you to be overwhelmed with pleasure. What I want is for you to feel the synergy of the two of us being existentially more than just you and I joined. I want my life to be about you, Shania. And if that doesn’t scare the crap out of you, and I imagine it will, I want for you to commit to sharing that vision of unity and togetherness for the rest of our lives. I want to celebrate being alive and being together, mystically joined into a single entity from this day forward. I want our lives to intertwine, to interweave and become one life that matters more to us than either of our lives individually. That’s what I want.” Shania sat absolutely still. She appeared stunned. She raised the linen napkin to her lips and dabbed gently. “Take me home, Eric,” she said. Her voice was barely audible. I nodded and signaled the waiter for the check. As we stepped out into the night air, I felt distinctly uncomfortable. “I’m sorry, Shania. I didn’t mean to overwhelm you with all that.” “Shut up, Eric,” she said, not unkindly. “I just want to go home.” “I’ll walk you back to your apartment”. “To our apartment, Eric,” she whispered. “Where you live is where I live.” “Oh,” I said. “I thought you wanted to go back to your place.” “Your place is my place, if you will have me.” She put her hand on my arm at the crook of my elbow to stop me. “What you just said.” She looked into my eyes. “That’s Escort Bağdat Caddesi the vision.” “Well,” I responded uneasily, “it is my vision.” She shook her head. “It’s our vision, Eric. Now I know why Jerry never understood. You’ve been the keeper of our vision. Jerry and I were never meant to have it. It belongs to us; to you and me.” “Okay.” I was at a loss for words. Shania slid her hand down my arm until she grasped my hand. We started walking toward our complex. “I don’t know if you believe in fate or whatever,” she said, “But this is it. We’re fated to be together. When I heard you lay it all out like that, I was astonished. I don’t know why, really. I’ve known we belong together for a few days. Tonight it just became absolutely crystal clear.” “Well, you already know how I feel about you, my love. All that remains is for you to decide.” “If I love our vision, can loving you be far behind?” she asked lightly. “I hope you will,” I chuckled. “Unrequited love is a bitch.” “I’m nobody’s bitch, Eric. I already told you. But I’m going to love being your partner.” I pulled her hand up to my chest and pressed it to me. “I’m going to love having you as my partner.” “And,” she said confidently, “as far as tonight is concerned, I going to sleep with you in your bed, in our bed. I am going to be naked and you are, too.” “Shania,” I started with a cautionary tone. “Hush!” she ordered. “I will hold you and you will hold me. If we make love, it will be. If we don’t, then we will be together. Frankly, at this point, I don’t really care. All I want is to be with you. If you love me then I will love you in return. If you enter me, then I will welcome you. If I need you, then I will take you and you will give yourself to me. It doesn’t matter, Eric. All that matters is that we begin, right now, this night, to live into our shared vision, together.” “So you are coming into my bed in spite of everything?” I laughed. “Our bed, Eric. From now on, there is no yours or mine. Everything is ours. Our apartment, our bed, our relationship, our love, our life. It was meant to be and I can prove it.” “You can, huh?” Shania sounded dead serious. “You are in 2B and I am in 3C. Do you know what you get when you multiply them?” “Uh,” I stammered, “Algebra? Not one of best subjects. I don’t know. Is it like 6BC?” “Exactly,” she said. “The beginning of time.” “Honey,” I said, as gently as I could, “I don’t even know if the calculation is right.

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