ROMANTIC FLASH FICTION 6:
That morning, sunlight was a tender friend, touching her eyes with light kisses, like soft lips over closed eyelashes. One kiss to the right, another to the left. Before opening them, she inhaled long and slow, letting her breasts rise and fall like a calm ocean tide. Allowing time to have no mastery over her, she allowed her senses to take in the morning one slow breath at a time. The warmth of the room enveloped her like a blanket of love, while winter’s spite excoriated the window panes with a frost from outside that was denied passage. Smoke from the dying embers of the fireplace ascended the brick chimney in silent vigil, and chirps from morning songs in the forest outside calmed her soul.
As she thought of him and felt her heart lifting once again like the clouds over a brilliant sunrise, a smile graced her face. He was still in her thoughts, in her dreams that night, and in her heart that morning. The scent of him still lingered on the quilt that covered the couch where they had made love the night before.
Theirs was a wild romance from the start. He was the loner with the black cowboy hat pulled low over his brow, with his back turned to her, his jeans showing off assets she appreciated in a man. On their first meeting, he was gazing into a corral of horses, leaning over the wooden fence, his mind concentrated and centered. Later he taught her the difference between a canter and a gallop and the two of them rode trails through the snow, even on harsh January days.
But that was just the beginning. Before long, like wild horses, their attraction for each other could not be reined in, and a week of kissing and wanting led to an evening of wine and country dancing, capped off with lovemaking at her cabin in the woods. What followed was a passionate relationship of love and war, of tenderness and fighting, of loving affection and contentious arguments.
Then one hot date at her cabin. There was cuddling by the fire, drinking cabernet sauvignon, and tasting it on his lips. The heat that ensued between them was greater than the flames in the fireplace, and wrapped in a thick quilt, they found each other’s intoxication and stayed there until they fell asleep in each other’s arms.
The next morning she awoke to find him gone. Only a note was left on her kitchen table: “Be back soon for you. I promise.”
He had left her life without a trace, not telling anyone where he had gone, leaving her to believe that his note was a lie.
Months passed and he had still not come back. Spring flowers bloomed and wilted as summer yielded to autumn and a new year approached. Snow blanketed the ground again and she had all but given up hope for his return.
But one day, out of the blue, there was a knock on her door. That was last night.
She smiled and turned from the window, allured by the aroma of fresh coffee beans, finding him standing in the doorway to her kitchen. He was wearing a loose-fitting robe, sipping a cup.
His strong, affectionate voice let her know she had not made a mistake in waiting for this day. “Breakfast is ready, my love,” he simply said.