The Love of My Life
I have never been a believer of love at first sight, but all my senses were in agreement with this feeling. From the moment I entered into the bank and saw him, I knew he was the one. I had come here for a job, but I might be leaving here with the love of my life. I smiled sheepishly as I allowed these thoughts run through my head.
I shot him glances at interval and when he finally noticed and smiled at me, my heart skipped for a moment. He was tall, handsome and calm and I couldn’t help but wonder how one stranger could have all I ever wanted in a man. He swept me completely off my feet when he started talking and I could sense how intelligent he was. “I am not letting this go” I thought to myself.
Two months after, we had started dating officially and I felt like the most fulfilled woman in the world to have him. He was my go to guy in the office. The most interesting part of it was that no one knew about our relationship in the workplace, mostly because it was against the rules of the bank. The occasional glances at work and non-verbal speeches in the office made me love him more. He just understood all my love languages. . Damn it, I was in love.
The sex was great! He knew what to touch and when. My breast was his favorite zone. He would stare at my nipples, accepting their pointy invitation and then rest his wet lips on them, one after the other, with no hurry to move away from them. And whenever we had the pleasure of putting ice in his mouth first, with his cold lips on my warm nipples, I loose all the sanity left in me. He was perfect.
My mum listened quietly to me adore this man, tears flowing uncontrollably from my eyes as I talked about him. I was betrayed and bitter. He had broken my heart. I didn’t deserve it. None of it. I had loved him too hard and too long to be treated that way. I had spent two years loving him and only him. I was happy with him and he seemed happy with me too. I don’t know what happened, where it all went wrong.
I went on and on until my grief strangled away my words and mum drew me closer. She hugged me, allowing me cry on her shoulders. She sniffed a couple of times and I figured she was crying to.
“He’ll pay for it. I will make sure he does”. She finally muttered under her breath.
What I didn’t include in the story I told to my mum is that he is a married man.
He cheated on me. Yes. With his wife.