It seems like I’ve been posting nothing but writing challenges for the past couple of weeks. This one is Billie Jo Woods’ Sinister Sunday Challenge from her blog Out of the Woods. The theme is “sinister”. I thought that in this case, it was equally fitting for a title, too.
I consider myself lucky to have married my soul mate. I’ve been in love with Cassidy for as long as I can remember. She had always considered me a close friend—that’s what she told everyone—but I was certain she felt something more. It was the way she looked at me sometimes, and the way she spoke to me. I could just tell. I always regretted not acting on those feelings when we were younger.
After college, we lost touch for a few years. She had gotten a job with an advertising firm and accepted a position half-way across the country. When a mutual friend told me that Cassidy had recently moved back, I was quick to contact her so that we could catch up.
We went for coffee, and I found out that she had made some big changes in her life—among other things, choosing a new career path. But that was Cass. Always dynamic. Always goal-oriented. I also found out that my feelings toward her hadn’t changed, but I didn’t think it was appropriate to bring that up yet.
We agreed that in view of her being back, we would hang out more often. And we did. It almost began to feel like it did when we were at school together.
There was still something, though. Something different about her. She had changed. Her silent reciprocation of my feelings had diminished. It was still there, just not nearly as obvious. But I was confident that with time, things would go back to the way they had been. I decided that this time around I’d try a little harder not to let her slip away.
It actually wasn’t before a year later that I finally told her how I felt—how important she was to me. She said that she had also given thought to letting our relationship move forward, but that there were still things in her life that needed sorting out—needed getting over—needed recovering from. So I was patient.
It took almost another year before our first real date. I remember it going well. I remember lots of laughing and reminiscing. I remember her little quips on the ride home about my car smelling funny. And I remember finally being able to kiss her goodnight. It should come as no surprise that it was then only months until our subsequent engagement.
Now, things are fantastic. We’ve recently moved into a new house and even have a baby on the way. Consequently, Cassidy insists that we upgrade from my old car. Not just for safety, but also because she still complains about that funny smell. Really, she should be happy that it doesn’t smell worse. After all, her first husband’s body did spend almost a week in the trunk.
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