What do you do when you meet someone you love more than life itself and are forced to let them go so they can experience life without attachment?
Two chance encounters set this story in motion and send Nick's introverted soul down a long avoided mem...
After Lori's display, we strolled across the lot to my car.
"I want to be that cool," she said almost coldly.
"I want you to think of me like that. I liked watching you two talk. It made me uncomfortable because she likes you, but I got used to it. She is cool, Nick."
I walked around to her side of the car to open her door.
"Look, Sof, you are cool because you are you. You don't have to be anyone else. You don't need to be anyone else. I think of you in more good ways than you could shake a stick at."
I put my arm around her shoulders and pulled her to me, then put my other around her waist and leaned over, putting my cheek against hers. She turned and pressed her butt hard against me. It was awesome when she did that.
"You're the girl I fell in love with. I don't want you to be someone else," I whispered.
"I don't want to be someone else," she stepped forward again and turned to face me.
"I just want to be cool. Lori is so cool. She does like you too."
"Well, good babe, I like her too. I've known her for a few years now. We're friends. Now you're friends."
"That's not what I mean," she frowned.
"Sofia Montoya, you are jealous? Oh my heavens, I have arrived!" I shouted, waving my hands to the humid night sky.
"This beautiful woman is jealous for me. For me!" I emphasized even louder.
I picked her up in our familiar embrace and kissed her quickly.
"I've got a ballerina! Life doesn't get any better than that!"
"Nick, I worry about losing you sometimes."
Her words were sincere and honestly shocking. I couldn't appreciate what I was hearing until I paired it up with the look on her face. Her bottom lip quivered a little as she tried her best to smile. All I could do was look at her and feel a little self-loathing. I wasn't worthy of that emotion. I was going nowhere. I loved her, every anxious, introverted square inch of her body.
Once more, I drew her in. She smelled like spring flowers and powder. Every breath of her inched me closer to hopeless devotion.
"Sofia, it's you. I love you."
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On the way home, she was quiet. She didn't say much even back at the apartment. We went through our routines and got ready for bed. I beat her there. I was finally relaxing when she came out of the bathroom, pounced on me, then lifted the covers and climbed on top of me.
"Will you teach me to ride the motorcycle?" She asked, drawing her legs up on either side of me, resting her head on my chest.
