It was Christmas Eve, and I was more nervous than all the times I had asked Lynne to move in with me. I knew I was making big steps, but I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her.
"Ready?" I yelled down the hall to Lynne, who took forever to get ready.
"It is hard to be ready when I don't know what we are doing," she says, walking out in jeans and a new pair of knee-high boots.
"I told you I'm giving you your Christmas gift. That outfit will do just fine," I say, holding her jacket open for her.
I could see the curiousness as soon as I had started driving. I had never driven her around in NYC before, instead using my car service with her.
"It is a little bit of a drive," I say, hoping that she will like what I had picked out.
We are pulling up to the gated community in New Rochelle, New York, about an hour later. She hadn't said a peep after we had left New York City.
Pulling up to the guard, I give him my name, and he buzzes me in, and I know that I have made the right decision.
She was going to love it.
YOU ARE READING
Love Letter
أدب نسائيLynne meets a man on the way home for the Holidays on a bus; if she only knew where that bus ride would lead she may have never left in the first place. Romance.
