A Love Story

Two Partners Dance

Lily's rhythmic typing across the coffee shop first drew my attention. She seemed to dance with her keyboard--consistent, like she was tapping to a beat all her own. She charmed me without saying a word. As it turned out later, she wouldn't need to. We could read each others' minds. I approached and asked what she was working on. 

"Nothing much," she said and kept on typing. 

Not one to shrink from a challenge, I shirked this dismissal. I asked if she was a writer, told her I'd seen her here before and heard her distinctive typing. 

"I'm busy. Come back later," was all she replied. 

This went on for days. I would revisit the shop, order a piping hot americano, then post up in an armchair and wait. She was regular to the point of insanity. Every day at 12:15 she arrived with her laptop and sat typing away. One day I noticed she didn't wear any headphones, so I asked her about it. 

"I like to practice ignoring distractions," she said, looking at me for the first time. 

Her eyes held a challenge--daring me to make a move, as if I needed a reason. I laughed, and complimented her focus. Then I think I caught her off guard when I said I would like to distract her further, and asked what she was working on yet again. 

She said, "Well you've done it now." Closing her laptop in mock contempt. "I'm working on this conversation, but before this I was writing my dissertation on communication between couples."

We talked for a couple hours. I listened and asked questions. She was fascinating and enthralled by her work. The way her eyes lit up when she talked about her research made me smile, and she noticed. 

"Oh, is it that time already? I need to get going. Thanks for chatting." She packed up quickly and made for the door. Left in her wake and mind racing, I stayed seated after saying goodbye. She looked back and gave the slightest hint of a smile as she exited the shop. That was all the encouragement I needed. 

We met at the coffee shop a few more times after that. Then we met for dinner. Our conversation never ceased to be enticing and interesting. The first time we had sex was magical. It's not often a man describes it that way, but I tell you it's true. I forgot who I was, we were so in tune and entwined. Every movement was reciprocated and expanded upon--our bodies locked in step--dancing on the rim of a volcano waiting for the eruption. When we finally came down I was in love and so was she. 

We looked at each other and realized we didn't have to say anything. Our thoughts rang out in each other's mind loud and clear. "I love you. I love you."