You Left Me A Long Long Time Ago

This story is submitted to the Heart//Beats: Music, Sex, and Emotion Challenge 2023. The idea for this story comes from Willie Nelson's 1964 song "You Left Me a Long, Long Time Ago."

-----

"Hello, Theo."

Two words.

Four little syllables.

It is amazing how those two words, those four syllables from her lips were enough to send me spinning, spinning into a world of pain, sorrow, sad memories and guilt. Mostly guilt.

As I looked up from my crossword puzzle, my eyes first took in her full hips, then her thin waist. Next were her two wonderful breasts, breasts I had adored, worshipped, stroked and kissed so many times I couldn't count.

Lastly, her face; as beautiful as ever though creased with a worried frown, a frown which melted as her shoulders relaxed when I answered, "Hi, Jess. Nice to see you. You back in town?"

"Yes, and for good. I told the Gundersons I was done with traveling and if they insisted I go on another remote job, they'd need to find someone else to fill my job."

"Hmm. I thought you liked traveling. Oh, forgive me, please, have a seat," I smiled at her. She nervously took the chair across from me and dropped her purse and a briefcase on the table. "Can I get you a coffee?"

"No thank you. I've had enough caffeine for one day."

"They've got a wicked decaf latte. Here, try mine."

"Yum. That's good. OK," she smiled at me, I guess realizing I was not going to rage or yell at her, "OK, I'll have one, too."

"One sugar," we both said simultaneously before breaking into laughter.

"You remembered."

"Jess, there's so much about you I remember."

She looked at me with sadness in her eyes. "Me you too."

I excused myself, ordered the latte and a scone. As I was returning to the little table, I looked at her closely. One, nearly one and a half years had gone by and she still looked great. No one would ever accuse her of having a Milan or a Paris model's physique but Jessica was one of those women whose total was far greater than the sum of her parts. Her dirty-blonde hair hung in loose curls below her shoulders, her soft facial features were offset by a look of steely determination in her business woman's eyes and her posture was that of an accomplished and in-control woman.

"Here you go. Want to split a scone?"

"I've never been able to turn one down and you know it." She bit into her half of the scone, smiling as a few crumbs dotted her chin. Once she had dabbed them away, she looked at me and asked, "Well, Theo, what have you been up to?"

"Not much. I quit Jenkins and Thomas and have opened my own little practice."

"What? You were on the fast track to partnership, weren't you?"

"Yup."

"Then why...?"

"Uh, something happened to make me reassess my life and my future. I decided life in the fast lane wasn't all it was made out to be."

She sat there looking at me with an unreadable look on her face but I knew what was going through her mind. She was probably wanting to know why didn't I quit sooner, why didn't I do it when we were still together and why didn't I do it before it was too late. She took a sip of her drink before rubbing the warm mug on her face, a little habit of hers which I had thought was so endearing way back when. She cleared her throat softly and looked me in the eye. "Is there anyone...?"

"Nope. Haven't found anyone since..., well, since then. You?"

"Likewise."

As we sat there drinking our coffees, I was trying to figure out what she wanted after all this time. Why had she approached me? After all, she was the one who left back then. Did she have something she wanted to rub in my face? Did she want to rehash our troubles?

"So, you've got your own practice?"

"Uh-huh. I try to be a lawyer for the little guy, the guy who needs a hand getting through a legal jam or needing help dealing with some faceless corporation. No big criminal stuff, however. I send those cases over to Jenkins and Thomas and they, in turn, shoot me some of the smaller work they don't want to waste their time with."

"You guys must still get along."

"Oh, yeah. We parted on good terms, I told 'em I needed a little different lifestyle."

"I see."

A few seconds later I noticed it was nearing the time for my afternoon of fun. "Uh, say Jess, I'm gotta head out. The kids are waiting."

"Kids?"

"I'm their soccer coach."

"You?! You coach soccer? You've never played a game of soccer in your entire life."

"I know, but Julie, my secretary, well her husband had to quit coaching due to him being put on the p.m. shift. She was complaining that none of the other parents would step up so I volunteered."

"What do you know about soccer?"

"Not much, but the kids are only six years old. I grabbed a book, learned some of the basics, watched a few videos and now they think I'm the best coach ever."

"Wow. Who would have thought? Still driving the Porsche?"

"Nope. Too hard to carry kids and soccer equipment in it. I've switched."

"To what?"

"Ah, uh, I have to admit I'm driving a little SUV hatchback."

"Don't tell me: a Subaru?"

I nodded yes to her infinite glee. "Oh, how the mighty have fallen."

"I've not fallen. I've settled, happily, I might add, thank you. So, anyway, I've gotta run."

"Theo, give me a call sometime, OK?"

"I, uh, don't have your number. Deleted it."

She pulled out her phone and tapped it a few times until my phone vibrated in my pocket.

"Now you do. No excuses."

Even though her smile had a slight edge of uncertainty, I did not want to make any promises. "Maybe I'll do that sometime. Nice seeing you again, Jess."

"You too, Theo. Take care."

-----

They say every breakup is usually the responsibility of one of the parties, or at least primarily so. Our split was as painful a thing as could ever be imagined, particularly since our relationship had been phenomenal early on. And I will go ahead and admit it: our split was primarily my fault. Yeah, I was the asshole, I was the one who treated her wrong and I deserved what I got. But she, well, she did not deserve what she got and for that, I will forever regret my actions.

When I met her, I was a junior associate at the law firm Jenkins and Thomas. Still wet behind the ears when I applied, I somehow got the attention of their HR manager who passed my name on to Mr. Jenkins. I was nervous as all get out when he interviewed me and I had pretty much assumed I was toast but he wrapped up the interview with the request I return and talk to Mr. Thomas. Two days later, the somewhat younger Mr. Thomas ran me through the wringer. By the time I was finished with the interview, I figured I was done. Imagine my surprise when I received a call the next morning asking me to come in and discuss a job offer!

The offer was generous in terms of salary but the expectations were high. I was told I would need to work basically as a grunt for a year or two doing extensive research and preparing briefs for the firm's partners and their cases. Once I had proven myself, they would throw me a few pro bono cases and see how I performed in the courtroom. If I did well, they would keep me on and slowly let me get involved in more cases of my own, real cases, which meant more money.

The first year was rough. Hard work and long hours defined my existence. Midway through my second year, I was asked to assist at a few trials and even asked to question witnesses. I must have done well enough that they soon began to have me manage a few of those pro bono cases. I remember winning my very first case by proving the fellow robbing the convenience store was far too thin on the video to be my client who was, to put it delicately, very generously proportioned. The police and the DA had concentrated on the perp wearing a particular T-shirt, one my client had also unfortunately been wearing the next day when he was picked up. I was able to prove that particular T-shirt was extraordinarily popular and the jury had to discount it.

From a personal standpoint, the thrill of the win was amazing but I was humbled when my client's young wife burst into tears as she hugged me after the verdict came in. Although I knew intellectually her life would have gone downhill dramatically if her husband had been sent to prison, her tears of gratitude told me how important our victory was not only for him but for her and their two kids. That Christmas I received from her a cute homemade tie clasp which I wear to this day. It reminds me why I do the work I do.

After three years of hard work, I was promoted to junior associate and given my own office, a legal assistant and a secretary. I figured I was on my way and if I kept up the good work, I could see making partnership within ten years. The money was good and I was able to get a nice townhouse near the office as well as a Porsche I had been dreaming about for years.

My social life also took off. All through college and law school I worked like a demon to get good grades and as a result, I wasn't too popular with the girls and women I had met. That all changed once I was a rising star in the firm. I will not say women were throwing themselves at me but it was fall-off-a-log easy to ask women out and almost as easy to get them into bed. In looking back at it, I know many of them were looking for that golden ring but I was a man-slut and refused to be tied down. If a gal got a bit possessive or started talking about 'us,' I would head for the exits. I did not sleep with anyone at the firm, which was a hard and fast rule I had, but almost any other woman was fair game as I tried to make up for all the times I missed out when I was in school.

It all changed the evening I met Jessica. Our firm was opening a remote office immediately over the state line and I was instructed to go down to the grand opening, meet some of the locals and schmooze a little. Among the local guests were several nice-looking women and I figured I might be able to better enjoy the evening once the official activities were done. One woman was particularly striking and I found myself surreptitiously watching her as she made the rounds. She was taller than average and had a nice figure with a small waist and decent breasts. Her dirty-blonde hair hung in waves down to her shoulders and her face lit up with a genuine smile frequently. I noticed she rarely took a sip from her half-empty wine glass and politely declined offers for refills.

I was intrigued and decided to meet her. After politely excusing myself from a conversation with a couple of legal secretaries, I grabbed my first wine of the night and went up to her.

"Nice little get-together this evening. Know who put it together?"

She looked at me with a sly smile and nodded, "Why yes, I do."

"When you meet them, would you let them know I think they did a great job."

"Thank you."

"Thank you?"

"Yes, thank you. I was ultimately responsible."

"I see. And you are...?"

"Jessica. I work at Gunderson Associates and..."

"Gunderson Associates. You're the ones we hired to set this whole office up!"

"Yup. We are."

"I'm Ted from the Jenkins and Thomas main office. Nice to meet you."

"You too."

"So how many of you were there on this project?"

"On site? Just me, though I telecommuted sometimes with my bosses when issues came up."

"Now, I thought Gunderson was located back in Centerton where the firm is."

"Oh, we are. For the duration of this project, I have been living down here during the week and commuting back home for the weekends."

"So, you did the leg work, found the office, hired the staff, coordinated interviews for interested lawyers and even set up this grand opening. Wow, quite a lot of work."

"Yup, it was, but now I'm ready to move back home. I usually work there though my bosses send me to some of their sites occasionally."

"Busy lady."

"Yeah, very busy. This was my first project of its type for the firm and I can tell they're pretty happy with how it turned out."

"Well, I know I'm happy and I'm not even going to work here."

"Thank you."

"Say, I happen to know a little place that serves shrimp on toothpicks and some wonderful grilled sliders. Could I invite you to dinner?"

"You goofball. Are you inviting me to the hors d'oeuvres table for dinner?"

"Sure. Why not? I happen to have met the lady who set this all up and I've heard the food is delicious."

"Thanks. And yes, I'll accept your invitation."

We made our way to the table and filled our little plates high with the various finger foods before going over to a small table by some windows. While we ate and finished our drinks, we talked about ourselves while getting to know each other. I told her about my life, legal career to date and my family, or lack thereof.

"So, no parents left and only a sister?"

"Yup and we're not too close. Her religious and political beliefs and mine don't get along too well, so we trade Christmas e-cards and talk by phone maybe once or twice a year. What about your family?"

"Mom and Dad still live in my hometown. He's a pharmacist at the hospital and she's in their admitting office. My little sister is at Paffington State and wants to follow in her dad's footsteps. My older brother is posted overseas with the State Department. I see him every two or three years if I'm lucky."

"See your folks very often?"

"Yeah, I fly over every few months for a long weekend at least.

"Say, your full name is Theodore, right?" she added.

"It is but only my mom called me that. Whenever I hear it, I immediately think I'm in trouble."

"Hmm. 'Ted' is too, I don't know, too common, too boring. I think you are more of a Theo. I'll call you that."

"Call me what you want."

"OK, What-You-Want, if you insist," she laughed, "No, Theo fits you better. And feel free to call me Jess. Almost everyone does."

We chatted for at least another hour and as the guests started to thin out, she told me she needed to get with the caterer and tidy up a few details.

"Can I give you a call when the dust has settled down here?" I asked.

"Sure. Here's my card. That number is my business cell number. My personal cell number is the exact same except the last two numbers are swapped. Easy to remember."

When we got up, I was not sure how to proceed. I wanted to let her know I enjoyed myself but we had hardly been on a date, so a kiss was out. I ended up giving her hand a tiny squeeze before leaving. Downstairs, I grabbed a ride to my hotel, crashed and drove home early the next morning. I was not expected back in the office until the next week so I enjoyed a lazy afternoon relaxing at home watching TV and thinking about her. I found it interesting I had not done anything to get her into the sack. Something must have told me to go slow though I did not have a conscious idea as to what that might have been.

The next night I went out with Wendy, a woman I had been seeing for several months. We had a fairly comfortable relationship, or at least I thought we did, and enjoyed getting together for drinks, dancing or a movie once or twice a week. Sex with her was often exciting and though we did not do anything over the top, she could be a little on the wild side on occasion. I had thought our relationship was one of mutual pleasuring but on the last few dates she had dropped some subtle hints she might be up for something more permanent.

She kissed me warmly on the lips when I picked her up and at dinner she was joking and telling me some interesting stories from her work. As she was telling me about a coworker named Elaine, I realized I kept tuning her out. I had to force myself to pay attention and interact with her but I had great difficulty doing so. My mind kept drifting back to Jess as I wondered what she was doing, if she had finished things up at the new office without trouble and the like. I knew I wasn't being fair to Wendy and decided to cut the evening short. Once we had finished dinner, I told her I wasn't feeling well, something about a headache and I had to call it a night. With a wink, she told me she'd give me a neck and back massage to help my headache but I thanked her and declined. When I dropped her off, she requested I call her the next day with an update. I did call her the next afternoon and was vague about any future plans though I agreed to call her in a few more days.

After the weekend, I was swamped at work but was able to take a break one evening and give Jess a call.

"Hi. This is What-You-Want calling, may I speak to Jess?"

"You crazy man. How are you, Theo?"

"Doing great. Few busy days but I wanted to call while I can and see if you'd be interested in having dinner with me this weekend."

"We've already had dinner together. Can't you think of something new?" she laughed.

"OK. How about dinner and some dancing?"

"Now you're talking!"

We agreed on a restaurant which had an attached club with live music and a small dance floor. That Friday evening when I picked her up promptly at six, I was struck again at how attractive she was. She had on a nice, flowing dress which came to right above her knees and featured a risqué neckline which drew attention to her attractive breasts. She had done something with her hair which exposed her neck and made her look sexy as hell. I was treated to a glimpse of thigh when she crawled into my Porsche and by the time I got around to my side of the car, she was looking around the car, checking out the leather seats and dash.

"Like it?"

"Oh, you boys and your toys," she chuckled.

"What do you mean?"

"Just what I said."

"So, because I have a fun car means I'm still a little boy?"

"Mmm, maybe. But I've heard that it can mean something else is little."

"What do you mean?"

"Mmm, there seems to be a correlation with the size of a man's..."

"What?! Are you suggesting that because I'm driving a sports car I may be lacking in another department?"

"Oh, it's just something I've heard," she giggled.

"Well, I have it on personal authority that the correlation doesn't always hold. OK, what do you drive, Miss Dismissive?" I laughed.

"Hey, it's Ms. Dismissive, I'll have you know."

"Normally I'd agree with you but the name sounds so much better with the title 'Miss'. Miss-dis-miss-ive."

"Well, I guess you're right about that. I've got a Subaru hatchback."

"A Subaru?" I hooted. "You know what they say about women who drive Subarus."

"Yes, I know and no, I don't swing that way at all. It's basically a great little car, functional and economic."

"At least I know who to call when I need to pick up something big from the store," I teased.

"You keep giving me shit and I may not let you borrow it," she dished back.

On our way to the restaurant, we kept joking and teasing each other. It was a comfortable and friendly give-and-take.

We were seated at a secluded table where we could talk and laugh without disturbing others. The meal was delicious, as was the wine, and the service was superb. After dinner, I invited Jess to the attached club. We each got a watered-down cocktail which we drank as we talked and watched the dancers. Once our drinks were done, I invited her to dance. I remember being pretty nervous as I took her hand and escorted her to the dance floor. The first few dances were fairly fast and we danced apart though occasionally holding hands.

Then the band slipped into some slow tunes. I held my arms out for her and after nodding 'yes,' she came up close to me. Within the first several steps, our dancing was smooth and in time with the music. I held her loosely in my arms leaving some daylight between us but over the course of the three slow tunes, I was aware of her coming a tiny bit closer. And she felt great in my arms. When the band went to take a break, she looked up at me with a genuine smile before mouthing, 'Thank you.'