I met Daniel right after my 18th birthday at a local night club. I was celebrating with some friends and he asked me for a dance. We clicked right away. He was charming and sweet and very gentle. My parents though did not agree. He was too old for me they told me. He was 32. I didn't agree. Age is just a number I argued. They demanded I break it off with Danny. I refused and they kicked me out of the only home I ever knew.
When I told Danny what happened he almost demanded I stay with him. I should have told him no, but I was thrilled and happily agreed. I moved into his guest bedroom that day.
For the first week everything went well. I worked at a small restaurant in town and was home by four every day. Danny would be home by five and I would have dinner laid out and ready for him. His smile at the sight of me standing there waiting for him made me thrilled.
That Sunday was special. Our six month anniversary was supposed to be special; he told me he had special plans that day and that I was to worry about nothing.
I made him breakfast in bed that morning and then he surprised me with a trip to the art gallery in town. When we got home he shuffled me out of the kitchen with the promise of making me a special dinner. My protest went unheard as I was barred from a kitchen I considered my own. I sat on the coach in the room two over and turned on the TV.
I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I knew he was waking me up.
"Come on sleepyhead. Dinner is ready." He pulled me to my feet pulling me in close for a kiss before leading me into the kitchen.
It was sweet the thought he had obviously put into the candle lit affair that I walked into. It was simple and romantic. He pulled out my chair for me and went and grabbed a bottle of wine.
"I know your still underage but I thought just one glass would be okay to celebrate. Ok?" He looked at me with such caring waiting for my approval, I couldn't say no. He poured both our glasses and then prepared a toast.
"To us" He said lifting his glass. I tapped mine to his and hesitantly took a sip. He turned back to the stove and pulled a covered dish out of the oven.
"I hope you like stuffed shells. It's an old family recipe." He placed the dish in the center of the table and proceeded to dish out the food on both our plates, before taking his seat across from me. He waited until I took my first bite of food before starting his own. He asked me about work and soon we feel into easy rhythm of conversations.
As we finished dinner he got up to clear the table and he topped off my drink with another bottle of wine off the counter.
