Their arms rapped around each other, their bodies a perfect fit, her head on his chest. He wondered why he was so lucky. He peered down to see her eyes looking into his. A little out of focus, maybe dreamy. She was content if this was the right word. Did she love him? She had never said so.
He had first seen her in a crowd of hundreds, maybe fifteen years before and was struck by her pull on his body, mind, spirit. Never before had he felt such a momentous tug. But he couldn’t get to her that day. The only thought he remembered, and it was as if someone was whispering to him, “someday she will be your wife.” He didn’t know her name, never saw her again until five years ago when they met at a local Brooklyn coffee house.
They developed an easy friendship. He marveled at the way she acted. Zany, sweet, challenging, laughing at his lame jokes, big eyed enthusiasm for life and for him. But friends they remained until today.
He was certain she felt the same tug on her soul, that she loved him as much as he did her. Today, he had decided, would be the day he’d find a way to get to the truth without disturbing their friendship. He decided to hug her a bit more intimately and longer than ever before.
So far she liked it. He took a chance and kissed her forehead. No pull back. Yes. Now all he needed was the courage to say it, but she interrupted him. With the same dreamy eyed look on her lovely face, she said in a completely relaxed voice, and you got to know this girl doesn’t relax much. She said, “so this is love.”