Lost (22 page)

  One night in early February we made love together and it felt like the earth was moving all around us.  Everything just shifted around me and I couldn’t help but stare in my room, waiting for the building to collapse, like every wall I had ever built had just collapsed within my chest, freeing me to love Peter.
  I knew I could breathe with Peter because he taught me how.  Peter gave me the ability to breathe in the world, so I could find my place within it. 

  And I knew in that one moment in time my place was to love him forever.
 

  Work continued for us both, and there were no further incidents of incompetence on my part.  I fit in my role as office manager, and I worked very hard within it.  I was good, and everyone knew I was good.  My bosses complemented me, and my coworkers respected me.
  I became Sophie Morley, Office Manager of Halton Facilities, and lover of Peter after hours.  I became a woman very happy with her life.
 

  So when Valentine’s Day came around, Peter took me to a beautiful hotel an hour away within the wine district to get us out of the routine of my apartment.  Peter wanted me to experience him outside my walls, he said, and I was happy to oblige.
  We stayed in a quaint little hotel surrounded by vineyards, which was a little odd since neither of us drank, but was lovely regardless.  Peter and I held hands and snuggled as we walked, and again, I found myself smiling nonstop like a loser when we were together.  I even imagined what we must have looked like to others and though I was slightly embarrassed by my giddiness, I really didn’t care.

  Before we left the hotel room for dinner Peter gifted me with a beautiful green chenille robe he said matched my eyes, and then he handed me chocolate body paint to my humor.  He laughed at all the chemicals in the chocolate 'paint', and I moaned at the thought of him covered in chocolate after our dinner in an upscale restaurant overlooking the vineyards.
 And when we finally returned to our room after an amazing dinner, I experienced the closest thing to straight up dirty sex with Peter we had ever experienced.  We barely made it through the door, before I was lifted and pushed onto the bed, the comforter was stripped, as was I, and chocolate ended up everywhere.
  I was insatiable that night, with a kind of desperation for him physically I had never known before him. 

  After covering him in chocolate with the included paintbrush, slowly, and torturously, I proceeded to clean him totally as he writhed beneath me on the bed.  I ate him, and devoured him, and took him into my body as deeply as he had ever taken me.  I was wild and sexy, and I took Peter with me to my pleasure. 
 

  I was so in love with Peter I became a woman willing to be tested, and tried, and explored. We did things I had never imagined for myself, and I welcomed them with Peter without insecurity or fear.
  I was never insecure again or afraid.  Peter gave me the security I needed to just be free with him sexually and emotionally.  He taught me to release my reserve with him, and to just live with him in our world of love and passion, and I was greater for it.
  I even opened myself up to people because I became a better Sophie with Peter in my life.  I was free from the fear of failure that had consumed me for 24 years.  And I was free to just be a 24 year old woman who worked hard, and loved harder.  In a little over 2 months together, I was completely changed and not only did I know it, I welcomed it.
  I was in love, totally and completely, and I was truly, undeniably happy in my life with Peter.
 

  When my birthday came Peter gave me tickets to a Matthew Good concert in late April, plus a beautiful framed portrait of myself he had spent weeks on.
  He pampered and massaged me that birthday weekend.  He cooked and fed me my favorite foods, and he delighted and pleased me sexually.  He made me feel like the most treasured, loved woman I had ever known.

  Throughout my birthday weekend, I realized Peter was the greatest gift to me I had never known I wanted before he came into my life.

  He was everything to me, and we had made our relationship seamless and beautiful over the course of just months.

  There were no more struggles or outbursts like we had in the beginning, nor were there ever any moments of anger, fear or disillusionment between us.  Peter always maintained a beautiful calm around me, and I learned to breathe with him.  I feared nothing and I wanted everything with him. 

  With Peter I had a wonderful, loving relationship built on trust and mutual caring wrapped in our devotion to each other.
                                                           

CHAPTER 18

  2 weeks after my birthday, Peter finally invited me to meet all his family.  I was invited to a party for his aunt and uncle who were celebrating their 35th wedding anniversary in a hall because of the amount of people attending.  And Peter desperately wanted me to go with him because it mattered, he said.

  They were celebrating because Peter's uncle had been diagnosed with terminal cancer and he wanted to celebrate his marriage to his wife in front of everyone.
  Peter was distraught by the potential death, but happy for the show of love his uncle wanted to make.  Peter told me he understood the desperation that made his uncle celebrate his anniversary because of the depth of the love he felt for his wife, who still loved him each and every day, of his last days. 

  Peter’s uncle Malcolm was having a huge party in a banquet hall so his wife knew how he had felt about her for the last 35 years they had been together, and presumably for the last year of his life.
 

  When Peter walked to my home at 6:00 I chose to drive because Peter was shaky and sad and visibly off when he arrived.  He walked into my place and took me into his arms right against the closet door. 
  Lifting me, Peter shocked me when he moaned, “Please, Sophie.  Please let me be in you.  I need to feel your love around me,” as I gasped at the sadness in his voice.

  Nodding to Peter while kissing his lips, he pulled my nylons and panties away and entered me unlike he had ever done before. 

  Peter didn't screw against doors, and he rarely screwed me in general.  We made love and shared a deep connection with each other.  Peter loved the connection with me when we were together, but I could see he wasn't himself that evening, so I gave myself over to whatever it was he needed from me in that moment.
  When Peter hid his face in my neck as he moved deep inside me I held him tighter.  When he moaned and cried out, I soothed him.  When he pulled away from me with a hand on my sternum to hold me up, I met his glazed eyes with a smile.  I could feel Peter needed me, so I gave everything I could. 

  After minutes in his arms, I felt Peter needed to come inside me, so I let him.  I knew my cycle, and I knew I was okay.  It was not an accident waiting to happen but a gesture of giving.  I gave everything to him as he took solace from me in his pain.
  And once he was finished taking what he needed, I stopped his sad apologies and kissed him into peace.  I left him sitting quietly on the couch as I redressed, and cleaned myself up.  I left him to recover while I thought of the gift I had given him when he needed me.
  Walking back to my living room as I rejoined Peter he again attempted to apologize for being ‘sexually selfish’ as he put it, but I took his hand in mine and kissed him better.  “I'll make it up to you later, I promise,” he moaned somewhat still shaken.
  “You always care for me, Peter.  So if you needed to screw the sadness out of you, I'm more than willing to help you,” I confirmed with a kiss.
  And pausing, he nodded before he kissed me deeply trying very hard to shake away all the upset I could feel around him. 

  Eventually pulling away from me, Peter finally took in my clothing and whistled with a devilish grin.  Telling me I looked edible helped.  Telling me I was stunning made my heart melt.  I knew he knew all of me, so a simple complement about my physical appearance always mattered.  Peter never placated, or gave false compliments.  He was honest and forthcoming, and just delicious in his suit as I stared back at him with a smile.
  “You are absolutely gorgeous in red, Soph.  So stay away from my uncle Max, okay?  He's a perv and you look too good tonight,” he smirked.
  “Okay, Peter.  No Uncle Max.  Anything else I should know?” I laughed.
  Grinning, he admitted, “My sisters are going to be all over you, and I can't really stop them.  They've been dying to meet you for months, so hopefully in such a large gathering, they'll be well behaved.  Then again, they might corner you, so stick with me all night.”
  “I planned on it,” I kissed him again. “You look very handsome in your suit, Peter.  Do we really have to go out?” I teased.
  “For an hour, at least.  Then we can leave, and I'll properly love you later,” he said to my surprise, because that was by far the closest we had ever come to the actual words. 

  We both knew we loved each other desperately, but we had decided early on that the actual expression was too common and too overused for the way we truly felt for each other. 

  We knew we loved each other way past the definition of the word.  We knew we were something so special the word love couldn’t possibly justify our beautiful relationship.
 

                                             *****

  Arriving at the hall by 7:30 I was impressed to see people everywhere, inside dancing and even outside smoking.  Drinks were plentiful it seemed, and voices could be heard all around us.
  Peter was repeatedly hugged by relatives and friends of the family, and I was introduced to countless people whose names I would never remember.
  I met Uncle Max and nearly burst out laughing when he hugged me and Peter damn near growled.  Even without the introduction I would have known the creepy perv anywhere.  From the once over I received, to the nasty looking, come sit on my lap grin, I could tell he was a player and a pervert.  So I quickly extracted myself from his hug, and leaned into Peter as his arm held me tighter to his side.
  Walking around tons of people, I finally met Peter's very nice mother who hugged me and welcomed me to the family, followed by Peter’s father who was just as warm and friendly, but without the hug. 

  I met one of his sisters, Carrie, who was very pretty, and the brother-in- law I knew was the disliked one almost immediately, just by the way Peter’s demeanor changed as I was introduced to David.  And minutes later as Peter and I walked halfway through the crowd of people I finally met the infamous sister Kara. 

  Kara was attractive, loud, friendly, and she demanded a certain amount of attention in the room just with her presence alone.  In other words, I knew not to let her corner me throughout the night. 

  I also knew she didn't like me when we were introduced, but I couldn't understand why.  Kara was perfectly pleasant, but there was an obvious tone I received as we spoke that suggested I was not as welcome as everyone else tried to make me feel.  Kara didn’t like me, and though I was uncomfortable with that thought, I chose to ignore my surprised insecurity for Peter.

  Eventually, after Kara was distracted by another conversation, Peter held my hand harder and walked us over to a table up front where I was greeted by a huge smile when I met the aunt and uncle for whom we were all celebrating.

  Uncle Malcolm, I could tell, was a formerly handsome man, already in a wheelchair wilting in front of my eyes.  He was lovely as we shook hands, and though I didn't know him at all, I felt the sadness of death all around him.  He took my hand and kissed me welcome to his party even as Peter stayed still beside me.  I was then introduced to Peter’s aunt Karen and I thought I was going to cry right then and there in front of her.
  Karen placed her hand on Malcolm's shoulder, introduced herself, and asked if I was enjoying her party.  She acted happy, but you could see the strain she felt when her eyes kept darting back to Malcolm.  When he squeezed her hand on his shoulder, his hand visibly shook from holding it up, but he continued to hold her for as long as his dying body would allow.
  Once the introductions were made, Karen beamed, “I’ve always wanted a party to say how fabulous I was, and I finally got it,” which made me grin.
  “Yes you did, Aunt Karen.  And you deserve it,” Peter finally spoke softly beside me. 

  Kissing her cheek, Peter seemed to be struggling more with Karen then even with the sight of Malcolm frail in his wheelchair.
  “Peter... It's okay,” Malcolm said, but even I knew it wasn’t.  “Go grab a drink for this lovely young lady and take her to the dance floor,” Malcolm finished as Peter nodded.
  Taking my hand as we walked away, Peter had just one moment of pause when he looked back at his aunt and uncle, but I couldn't tell if it was Karen or Malcolm he looked at.  After his brief pause, Peter seemed so sad I wrapped my arm tighter around his waist as we walked to the bar at the end of the hall.
  “Are you okay for a minute?  I just want to clear my head, but I won't be long.  I still want to dance with you,” Peter whispered against my hair.
  “I'm fine.  Go do what you have to do.  I'll be here,” I soothed with a little kiss as he walked away from me.
  Once alone, I grabbed one drink, a tequila sunrise naturally, and I looked around at all the people I didn't know, and thought of why they were there.  Not too soon after this party, they would be at a funeral and I found the contrast so sad I wanted to weep for them all.
  Looking at everyone I realized how much I had changed since Peter.  I realized before him I used to force life to give me more than I needed to prove my own self-worth, but with Peter I enjoyed what I had. I was a different person than I had been before him.  I knew I had become a woman who loved completely and lived my life fully.  I also knew I didn't want to know or experience the kind of sadness that death and loneliness could bring to me.  I wanted to love with Peter in peace.