Chapter 5: Proof of Life

Charlotte's POV

TEN MONTHS AGO

Stephen and I had been seeing each other for about a month, and I had never been happier in my entire life. He understood me in a way that I never thought was possible. With most people in my life, I always had to explain almost everything I said. I had no idea why, it was just the way it was for me. But with him, it was never that way. He always got it immediately. The relief he provided me was overwhelming. I was myself, but I was somehow better than myself when I was with him.

"What do you want to do tonight," he asked, and pulled me closer to him on the bench, "It's a beautiful evening, we could do almost anything."

We were sitting on the house balcony, watching the sun set. We'd spent the better part of the day just talking, and getting to know each other better. He had a glass of bourbon, and I had my usual vodka tonic. It was the perfect ending to the perfect day. Well, almost perfect. I was ready to take things a step further in our relationship, and I wasn't sure how to do it.

"Tonight, I thought we would do something we haven't done before," I told him, and gave him a soft kiss on the lips, "I was wondering if I could interest you in my bedroom?"

Stephen and I had kissed passionately before that night, and had removed some clothing, but we had never made it that far before. I needed to be certain that I could trust him, that he was who he appeared to be, before I made that leap with him. But a month later, I realized that I was truly in love with him, and I wanted him in a way that I had never wanted anyone before. I was ready.

"Interest me? Are you kidding? I thought you would never ask," he replied, desire turning his green eyes luminous in the semidarkness, "But, are you sure? I know that you wanted us to take our time..." I kissed him then, bringing our conversation to a glorious halt, and pulled him down the hallway. He kissed me back, passionately, and we tumbled into my bed effortlessly. I had lit a fire in the bedroom fireplace earlier in the evening, and the flames cast shadows on the walls.

"I love you," he said, and gave me a soft, gentle kiss that made my entire body scream for NOW, "I love you so very much, Charlotte. You kill me and bring me back to life again, all at once. It sounds like Shakespeare, and yet, that is what we have." He gently began to unbutton my blouse, and the gentle touch of his fingertips on my skin sent fire throughout my entire body. I had to have him. I had never felt so alive. It was as if every fiber of my being was aching for him. I loved him, needed him, had to have him. He was my obsession, my addiction.

"My need for you is a fever," he whispered, "And I pray that I never recover... You drive me to madness. I have never felt this way before, about anyone or anything. My desire for you, my need for you, is all consuming. I crave you, my love."

"I love you too," I whispered, "It is you who bring me to life. I never knew what it was like to live until I found you. To be without you is painful, but it's good pain. It is proof that I am alive. To desire you so badly that it hurts."

And it was true. I had never wanted or needed anything so badly, so intensely, as I needed him.I pulled his shirt off, and kissed him, desperate to feel his body against mine. He gently touched me, and found that I was more than ready for him. And as he entered me, I let out a sigh of pleasure. My GOD he was perfect. I wrapped my legs around him and pulled him deeper into me. He groaned in ecstasy, and we were one, together, and everything else disappeared but our passion for each other. It was, without a doubt, the single most incredible experience of my life.

***

When I woke up the next morning, I knew immediately that he was gone. I wasn't worried, I just assumed that he had an early morning. The previous night had been sheer heaven. We had lain awake all night talking, snuggling, and making love over and over again. I was actually surprised that he had been able to rise so early, all things considered. A thought that brought a smile to my face. When I got to work, everything seemed brighter somehow. Colors appeared more vibrant, the aroma of the office coffee seemed more enticing. I felt so alive it was nearly painful to experience.

"Hey Charlotte, how's it going," fellow librarian and my friend Ben asked me with a curious grin, "You look so pretty today! Is that a new dress?"

Ben was always kind to me, and I greatly appreciated it. From the first day on the job when he showed me how to work the strangely antiquated filing system we had been buddies.

"It is, actually, thank you for noticing," I told him with a grin. I had been more motivated to shop recently, now that I finally had a boyfriend, and I'd bought it with Stephen's admiration in mind. It was a green shift dress, coming just above the knee, and I liked the way it matched my eyes. I was hoping that I would get to see Stephen in it that night. It was a little strange that he had disappeared, but I pushed the thought aside for the moment. I wasn't going to allow anything to ruin my good mood.

"Well, you're hard to miss," Ben replied and helped me to open the window shades in my favorite part of the library, the children's section. "Are you still doing that reading for the kids today?"

The best part of my job was "Storytime." Once a week I got to read to the children who gathered in a circle at the back of the building. I'd started it about six months ago, and it had become a popular activity, to my pleasure and surprise. Now every Monday at four o'clock I had a captive audience of twenty to thirty children who listened to me read tales from my own childhood. I enjoyed acting out the dramatic parts, and changing my voice to match that of different characters. Afterward we offered cookies and juice in the tiny cafeteria. It was the best part of my work week by far.

"Of course," I assured him, and powered on my computer, "You know I would never miss Storytime! Not for anything!" Well, not quite anything I realized, and I found myself blushing, thinking about the previous night's activities.

"Seriously though Char, you work so hard, you should get out more," Ben told me, and I could tell that his concern for me was genuine, "I mean, did you get to do anything fun this weekend?" He had no idea how much fun I'd actually had, but I wasn't ready to tell anyone yet. And where had Stephen disappeared to anyway? I found myself hoping that I hadn't trusted him too easily.