I had a normal life my first 28 years. School, college, find a job with a corporation, grind away at work.
One of the secretaries (the formal term is "executive assistant", but let's call a spade a spade) at the company had been working there for almost 30 years. So had her husband, until his death by drunk driver (he was a pedestrian, crossing at an intersection and he had the walk signal, when a drunk came up the other way, blew through the red light at 50 mph, and killed him and five other pedestrians. That was three years ago. The drunk got six consecutive life sentences plus 50 years in prison.) They had gotten married right out of high school and gone to college, then straight to the company. He had worked his way up to being an executive.
She had millions due to the payout of his life insurance, but it wasn't the same as having a companion. She did her job competently and professionally, but she was still very sad. She would sit by herself during breaks and lunch, and sometimes weep for her lost husband.
No one knew her real name anymore. For a couple of decades she had been known as "Tharja", based off an obscure character from an ancient game. The fact she was black-haired, "thicc", and busty may have contributed. but the primary reason was that she had been utterly devoted to her husband. Always looking out for him, doing things for him, spending time with him. There may also have been some jealousy and possessiveness involved. He didn't seem to have any female friends. But then again, he didn't have very many friends, period -- completely devoted to his work.
I was starting to get concerned that no one ever spoke to Tharja on breaks or lunch. It seemed like she needed a friendly face. So one day -- a Thursday -- I settled myself next to her at lunch.
"Hello," she said softly.
"Hi," I replied. "I don't know if you remember my name. I'm Nate -- I work in the patent processing department."
"I've seen you around, but we've never actually talked," she said. "Thank you for introducing yourself. You may as well call me Tharja, everyone does."
"Everyone also knows what happened three years ago," I murmured. "Very sorry for your loss."
"T-thanks," Tharja whispered. "People must think I don't want to talk about it. I still miss him. I always will -- we were a couple ever since freshman year of high school. I know I should move on, but saying it and doing it are two different things."
"So you haven't gone on a date since?"
"No. No one has asked me out."
That gave me an opening.
"Would you like me to ask you out?"
"Why would a handsome young man like you be interested in a used-up old woman like me?"
"You're not used up, and you're far from old."
"That's very sweet of you."
The longer I talked with Tharja, the more I was feeling attracted towards her, and not just physically.
"Would you like me to take you out for dinner tomorrow night, Tharja?"
"I couldn't possibly ask you to spend money on washed-up me. But if you'd like to come by my house after work, I can cook you up a little something."
"I think that's an excellent idea. May I have your address?"
She wrote it down for me. We realized we'd better stop talking and eat before lunch ended, so we stuffed our faces. When we were full, we still had a minute or so before having to head back to our work areas.
"Thank you for spending lunch with me today, Nate. You're such a nice young man. And very handsome. I greatly enjoyed the company."
"You're very pretty, Tharja. And I enjoyed your company, as well."
The next day, we had lunch together again. Tharja's expression didn't seem quite so sad.
"Maybe I'm not as washed up as I thought."
"I don't think you're washed up at all."
"You're just saying that because I'm making you dinner tonight. But I appreciate it anyway, even if it's insincere."
"It's 100% sincere. But your looks aren't the important thing anyway. You're a very nice person and I enjoy spending time with you."
Tharja actually blushed.
"The only other human who's ever called me nice is my former husband. Everyone else uses terms like professional and workaholic and cold."
"They just haven't gotten to know you."
Tharja leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. "Nate, you're so adorable. I could just hold you in my arms and cover you with kisses."
"Wait until tonight."
Tharja giggled. "You have a good sense of humor."
That evening, I got home from work, showered, put on clean but casual clothes, and drove over to Tharja's house. It being a Friday night, I didn't have to worry about getting back in time to sleep and go to work the next morning.
She opened the door dressed even more casually than I was. She was wearing a robe and also appeared to be freshly showered. I wondered if I had arrived a bit too early, not letting her have time to dress.
"Hello, Nate. Welcome to my humble home."
She showed me around. The guest bedroom had been converted into an office for her late husband and Tharja had left it that way. The kitchen was right next to the dining room, which had a table sized for two people. The living room had a couch and two chairs, plus the usual electronics and Tharja's computer. It wasn't fancy, but it was nice.
"I like it, Tharja."
"I hope you don't mind my informal state of dress. I figured we weren't going anywhere, so why get all dolled up?"
"You look gorgeous," I assured her.
"I'm starting to think you actually believe that. Well, let me get dinner ready."
"Can I help?"
"You're my guest. Sit. Relax."
I found a game to watch while the delicious smells of Tharja's cooking emanated from the kitchen. When it was ready, she dug up two TV trays and sat next to me while we ate. The food was magnificent. Afterwards, she cleared the plates and TV trays, then lay down on the couch and nudged my head onto her large chest, draping her arms down over me.
"Mmmmmm. You're spoiling me, Tharja. I could get used to this."
