Rediscovering Passion Ch 03

The following Wednesday I noticed the clipping from the newspaper on the refrigerator. The meeting was that night at seven, and after some thought, I decided to go.

It turned out to be beneficial. I met a few other women who were in my similar situation. Young and who had lost their husbands unexpectedly. I made a decision that I'd come back the next week and hopefully each week I'd learn a little something more about healing.

Overall, I was starting to feel better. I had seen Eric again since our walk to the estate sale and I could feel myself loosening up. I enjoyed being around him, and I'd given up trying to resist the emotions that were developing inside me. He stirred feelings in me that had long been dormant, not to mention there was something there. When he and I talked, I could feel this unspoken understanding from him. I felt like he could sense my caution and maybe even my pain, without telling him anything about my loss. His patience put me at ease.

We'd mentioned getting together on Saturday afternoon for lunch. I made a few sandwiches and pasta salad, grabbed a bottle of wine and decided to walk over to his house and surprise him.

"Hi" He muttered after opening the front door. His hair was a bit disheveled and he was still in his pajamas. I looked down at my watch, it was almost noon. I assumed maybe he'd forgot our plans.

"Are you ready for lunch?" I asked, smiling. Knowing his answer, since we weren't going anywhere with his state of attire.

"Umm..." I could see him searching for the right words. I stood on his porch, holding the picnic basket, waiting for an answer.

He ran his fingers though his hair, looking down at his feet, then back up at me. "I can't go today, I'm sorry Syd."

I gave an understanding nod. Waiting for more of an explanation from him, but none came. He looked at me blankly. "Maybe another time?" I asked and stated at the same time.

He nodded his head. "Yeah, another time."

I turned around, and walked down the steps and back toward my house. Hearing the door close behind me. I was numb. It was one thing to cancel a date, but his lack of reason was what bothered me. Sure, we weren't technically dating and he didn't owe me an explanation, but every time we'd been together it felt warm, and this left me feeling bitter. When I got home, I finished off the contents of the picnic basket and fell asleep on the couch.

Days passed without word from Eric. My phone had become annoyingly silent. I hated what I was feeling. I was upset. I missed him and I couldn't shake it.

That Wednesday I went back to my support group meeting. For an hour I didn't think of Eric. My thoughts were solely of Robert. I felt guilty. He didn't ask for it to be this way. He'd done nothing. He'd been driving home like he did every night, except that night it was different. It was foggy and he didn't see the truck. It backed out into his lane of traffic and within seconds it was over. They said he didn't feel a thing. I wanted to blame someone, but there was no one, it was purely an accident. Which is why I was sitting here blaming myself, feeling guilty for feeling alive. I listened as the others spoke of their experiences, their feelings of loss, grief, and guilt.

I made my way down Market Street with Rachel, another woman I'd met from the group. We were consumed in conversation, when I noticed a taller guy crossing the street to the left of me, and I thought for sure it was Eric. I paused in mid sentence and turned as we walked past. It was him, with the same bubbly blonde that was at his house weeks earlier. I felt a sharp pang in my stomach, but I didn't falter in our conversation. She seemed to notice I was distracted, but didn't mention anything.

Later, at home, I slouched into my couch with a glass of wine and came to the conclusion that I had been picked over. This realization hurt more than I expected it to. I started to cry. I was cursing myself as I did it. I hated the fact that I'd been sucked in. I'd let down that wall, after so much hesitation, and once I did, it didn't matter. I'm not sure how long I sat there, drowning in my own abandon, but when I heard the knock on the front door, Drake and I both nearly had a heart attack. Visitors at this hour were a rarity. I brushed the hair from my face, and peeked out of the front window before opening the door.

"Oh, for Pete's sake." I grumbled under my breath, feeling elated at the same time.

His hair was wet and matted against his forehead. Sometime between my first glass of wine and passing out on the couch, it had started to rain.

"Eric...what are you...?" I couldn't even finish the sentence. I was a bit in shock of him standing on my porch after just seeing him with his flaxen girlfriend hours earlier.

"Hi Syd." He smiled. I stood there, knowing that I was supposed to invite him in, but afraid to. I wasn't about to stand out on my porch in a torrential down pour, so I waved him inside. I couldn't maintain my secret forever, and I didn't feel that it mattered anymore anyway.

"Are you ok?" He asked, sincerely. Could he tell or was it just obvious that I'd been crying while sucking down three glasses of Merlot?

"Um, I'm ok." I garbled. "What are you doing here?"

"I needed to talk to you."

I looked puzzled. "About?"

We moved over to the couch, where he eyed my empty bottle of Merlot, before sitting down. Lucky for him, I held my alcohol well.

"I'm sorry for being distant these last couple weeks. I've had a lot on my mind and I just needed some time to be alone."

Wow, he had some nerve. I had just seen him with Goldilocks three hours prior. Did I dare mention it? In my wine induced state, the answer seemed to be yes.

"Alone? I'm sorry if I don't understand Eric, but I just saw you over on Market Street tonight with another woman." The second it was out of my mouth I was regretting it. I didn't want him to feel that I was being possessive. We weren't dating and frankly it was none of my business. He looked at me puzzled.

"I'm sorry." I apologized. "It's none of my business, and you don't have to explain to me what's going on in your life." I could feel my face turning crimson.

He chuckled. "That's my sister, Sydney."

I didn't realize you could go from feeling miserable to angry to stupid in such a short span of time.

"I'm sorry. I just..."

"Don't explain, I would have thought that as well, if I'd seen you in the same situation."

An aura of relief seemed to wash over both of us.

"I really like you Sydney, and I enjoy spending time with you. I'm just afraid I come with some baggage and I don't want to burden you with that right now." Baggage? Was he kidding? He hadn't seen baggage yet.

"We all have issues, Eric." I reached across touching his hand.

"Yes, but some have more than others."

I bit my lip, savoring the silence between us. Here he was, this big, strong man, who always seemed so much in control, looking in my eyes, sharing this weakness with me. I wanted to kiss him, whisper to him that whatever it was, it'd get better. I wanted to love him.

Instead, I cried. I was such an idiot, here he was ready to pour his heart out to me and I'd managed, within seconds to turn this back to myself.

"Whoa honey, what's wrong?" His face immediately turned to concern and he reached for my hands. I wasn't sure what was wrong with me, but I wiped away the tears, sniffling as he took my fingers in his. I had a sudden outpouring of emotion toward him.

"I'm alright, can I just lay here with you for a bit?" I didn't wait for him to answer and he didn't object to my blatant lie; I leaned down resting my cheek against his shoulder. Before long we were both fast asleep. I woke at about three a.m., cold and absent of my alcohol buzz. I reached over and pulled a throw blanket over us. By the time the sun had rose, our bodies were warm and pressed against one another.

My hair was slightly tangled and I snuck away from the couch, without managing to wake him up. I tiptoed upstairs to clean myself up. I was halfway up the staircase when I panicked. I'd completely forgotten the wedding picture hanging above the fireplace. He'd roll over on the couch as he was waking and end up staring straight at it. I turned around, making my way quietly back down to the living room, but it was a futile effort. He was opening his eyes, smiling at my disheveled appearance. "Good morning" I whispered. I'd never seen someone look so perfect at seven a.m. after sleeping on a rigid couch.

It was useless now, he was going to see the picture. Sooner or later I would have to explain. He groggily sat up on the couch, running his fingers through his hair.

"I hope I didn't take up too much room?" He questioned.

"Not at all. Would you like some coffee, Eric?"

He stood up, adjusting his wrinkled shirt. "I should get home, but thank you."

There it was again. That conflicted feeling. Was I mistaken in thinking that what we shared last night was special? Or was I looking too far into this? Either way it didn't matter. He was putting on his shoes and I wasn't going to ask any questions. In a matter of minutes he was gone, I don't think he even noticed the picture.

In the passing days I couldn't help but think about Eric. I wondered what all that meant that night. What was conflicting him so? What made him so warm and affectionate one minute and abrupt and platonic the next?

I floated through the next couple days, managing to limit my thoughts of Eric. He hadn't even crossed my mind on Wednesday as I rushed up the stairs of the community center for my weekly meeting. I slipped in the door and found a seat in the back of the room. We were hearing from a speaker this meeting, so the room was rearranged in a classroom like setting. I noticed there seemed to be more members, probably due to the author that was giving the presentation.

Fifteen minutes into it and my mind was starting to wander. I was picking at my fingernails, fumbling in my seat, examining the backs of the heads in front of me. My concentration level was diminishing by the minute and by the time the hour was up I was thankful to be leaving. I fumbled with my bag and squeezed past a crowd of people discussing the presentation.

"Sydney!"

I heard my name and I recognized the voice. I tried to process why he as at one of these meetings as I turned to face him. Masking as best I could, a confused expression.

"Hi Eric." I looked into his eyes, and could tell he was as confused as I was.

He spoke first.

"What are you doing here?"

I wasn't sure what to say. There was no point in hiding it any longer considering this was a widow and widower's survivors meeting.

"I was attending the presentation. What are you doing here?" I asked.

"I was doing the same thing."

So there it was. All of the doubt that I had was replaced with empathy. I thought back to the many times I'd cursed him for being so distant.

"Can we go somewhere and talk?" I questioned.

He nodded his head. Minutes later we were back at the same coffee shop we had met at. Sitting across from one another, he with his steaming latte, and me with my iced cappuccino.

"Would you tell me about her?"

I watched his face and couldn't read his expression. He didn't say anything for a while, but when he spoke, it was quiet.

"I can still see her. Her long blonde hair draped around her face. She had this smile that could light up a funeral and sometimes when she laughed, she would snort at the end."

He smiled and sipped his coffee.

"She was going to be a wonderful mother. Some women aspire to be doctors or lawyers, but Ann, all she wanted was to raise our family. I was fine with it; in fact I thought it was great. She bought a basinet even before we knew she was pregnant." He smiled, reminiscing.

The tears were on the verge of falling. This man never failed to amaze me.

"Then, just like that, she was gone."

I was afraid to ask. But luckily, I didn't have to.

"A brain aneurysm. She was only 30."

I wanted to say I was sorry. But I'd heard it from so many people; and to me, it meant nothing. Of course they were sorry. There wasn't anything else they could say.

So I said nothing. I reached across the table and took his hand. He was looking off toward the wall.

"I loved her so much, Sydney."

"I know, Eric."

His face softened. "Tell me about yours."

I took another drink of my coffee and sighed.

"Robert was amazing. We had this wonderful relationship that I've missed every day since he's been gone. Sometimes, I still feel like he's there. I'll lie in bed at night and reach across to his side, and the bed feels warm, and I imagine him laying there, breathing softly. I think to myself, I'd give everything to have him back, even for just a few minutes."

He started to rub the inside of my palm as the tears welled up in my eyes. I went on to explain about the accident. He listened, never taking his eyes off of me. I talked until I was sure I wasn't making sense any longer. When I was done, I let out a deep sigh and looked down at the table.

"Some days it's easy. Some days I can really accept what happened and know that she's in a better place, watching over me. But other days, I want to scream. I feel like punching the wall."

I nodded. I knew the feeling all too well.

"I'm sorry, Sydney. I let you in and pushed you away all at the same time."

I opened my mouth to respond, but he continued.

"That day that you came over?"

I nodded.

"That would have been our two year anniversary."

Eric finally made sense to me. I hoped that I made sense to him now.

I rubbed my thumb over his. A comforting silence surrounded us. I had so many questions, but not the energy to ask them. Eric leaned across the table and softly rubbed his fingertip across my bottom lip. When he graced the part in my lips, I kissed it. At that moment, I was overcome.

"I haven't touched anyone else like that since." I whispered.

"Either have I."

We both smiled. My stomach was in knots of fear and anticipation.

"Can I see that chair in your bedroom?" He asked, grinning.

For a moment, I didn't say anything.

"I might let you sit in it."

Not much was said between the coffee house and my bedroom. I felt like an eager teenager, about to make a decision that could change everything. Excited, yet conflicted. He sat down in my chair and my choice was made. Not only did I want Eric, but I needed him.

I walked towards him and he reached up, putting his hand on my face. He pulled me down to a kiss. His lips were soft and the smell of his cologne was making my knees week. I ran my fingertips down his chest. He pushed his tongue against mine. It was warm and urgent. He sucked me into his mouth, moaning softly.

I unbuttoned his shirt as his tongue trailed down my neck. I closed my eyes, tilting my head back. My entire body was trembling from just his mouth. I prayed I didn't pass out in the act. He pulled my shirt over my head and tossed it aside. He stood up, his tongue back to dancing with mine as I rubbed my palms over his smooth shoulders.

"Are you ok?" He whispered.

I could barely speak. "I'm great." I responded.

I watched as he traced his finger down my stomach, stopping at the button on my jeans. He looked back into my eyes, as if to get a second approval. I reached out and unbuttoned his pants. That was all the encouragement he needed. Within seconds he stood before me, only in a pair of tight boxer briefs. I thanked God for blessing my sex-deprived body with this beautiful creature. I made a mental note that I wanted to paint him. Naked.

He laid me down on the bed, and continued to assault my eager mouth with his tongue. I wanted to touch him all over, and I did. His skin was warm and smooth, with speckles of dark blonde hair in all the right places. I felt his hands on my back, unclasping my bra. He pulled it away slowly and tossed it aside. I held my breath as he ran his tongue across my collarbone, down between my breasts, then to each nipple. I let out a deep groan as he softly bit down on one, and then sucked it between his lips. I could feel his hardness pressing into my thigh. Our bodies were grinding together in a slow, rhythmic motion that was bringing me to the edge of insanity.

He stood up at the edge of the bed and tucked his fingers under the sides of my panties, freeing my body of them. His eyes were locked on mine as he grinned and pulled his underwear off. I moaned, and then smiled as I realized I'd done it out loud at the mere site of his raging manhood. He couldn't help but smile as he crawled over me, and slid his hand between my legs. My body jerked as he probed my depths with his finger. I wrapped my arms around his neck and began to whimper as he rubbed his thumb over my swollen clit.

He leaned down, invading my mouth with his warm tongue, kissing me harder than any of the times before. I growled into his mouth and he didn't hesitate any longer. He took both my thighs in his hands, just before he plunged his thick erection deep within me. I almost screamed from the pure ecstasy I was experiencing. I wrapped my legs around his lower back, both my hands in his hair as he thrusted in and out. My body was trembling against his. He sucked on my lower lip and trailed his tongue to my ear, flicking my lobe. That put me over the edge and I started to buck against his body.

His face was close to mine and his grunts were echoing into my entire being. He gripped both of my ass cheeks in his hands and started to pump harder. I could feel my toes beginning to tingle and I screamed as my wet canal gripped Eric's penis. I was pulsing inside and my entire body was hot with passion as he took my nipple between his teeth and thrust deep one last time before he exploded inside me.

He raised his face to mine, his mouth agape. We were both panting, half smiling. Our bodies slowed, but he stayed inside me.

"It's been a while." He joked.

I ran my hand over his cheek, feeling cool sweat beneath my fingers.

"It was perfect, Eric."

He gently kissed my lips before laying his head on my chest. I closed my eyes and within minutes we were deep in slumber.