THE STORY OF ELIZA PT. 2 OF 2

This is the final part of the story. Enjoy

If you haven't already read part 1 scroll down to the post below and catch up.

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Our relationship developed quickly, we were comfortable with each other in ways neither of us had ever been before with anyone else. We brought our strengths to each other’s life. We found balance in our differences. We seemed to understand each other; we could make the other laugh without ever having to utter a word. We had the same ideals and ethics. Lived by the same rules of conduct. Wanted similar lives.

One evening in the summer, she called me as both of us did more or less every night and informed me that she was in my neighborhood at her godfather’s house. I was in my friend’s car a couple of blocks away and decided this was a sign that we should see each other.
My friend commented on how my aura seemed to change the moment I picked up the phone to speak to her, how I perked up, sat straighter in my seat, and an uncontrollable grin plastered itself onto my face with each word she and I exchanged. I took the observation to be nothing more than a friend ribbing another for his own amusement.

We pulled up to find her and her godfather sitting on the steps of his brownstone laughing. I got out of the car, joined them in their conversation, and spent about three hours talking with them about everything under the evening stars. You would have thought we had all known each other forever. I felt at home and didn’t want the moment to end. However, it was late; he had to go to work in the morning and needed to go to bed.

Eliza and I thought it was a beautiful night - why not walk to the train station instead of her taking a cab. We walked in the direction of the train station but somehow never seemed to come to it, we walked and talked, and talked and walked some more, by the time we had looked up we had walked about 4 miles all the way to her neighborhood and never even realized it.

She suggested we extend the night a bit longer and partake in some handmade per order foreign beverage she had been raving about all night that could only be found at a café a couple of blocks away. We walked over only to find they had already closed for the evening. We crossed the street to another establishment both of us had walked pass for years but for some reason or another had never ventured into.

We approached the bar, sat, and asked the bartender for a drink recommendation. He quickly replied – rum punch. He asked us if we wanted anything to eat. We weren’t hungry but thought we could share a dessert to pass the time while we drank. He suggested their house specialty - Malva pudding; I was not a fan of pudding but took him on his word of its good and ordered it nonetheless. The bartender recommended we sit outside to enjoy our beverages in the summer breeze. The Malva pudding (which looked more like a circular brownie than pudding) came and initially, neither of us were brave enough to take the first bite. I finally manned up, slipped my dessertspoon into the pudding, and lifted it up with a small scoop of the vanilla ice cream that had accompanied it. I slipped it onto my tongue and allowed it to dissolve down my throat. Eliza asked me how it was and all I could do was to offer her to taste it for herself. Her facial expression seemed near orgasmic as the warm baked good touched her tongue. We had both fallen in love at the exact same moment, together, forever with Malva pudding.

We sat for hours talking about everything, anything, and sometimes even nothing as we always had. Except this time the conversation seemed to be different, we seemed to be closer, more honest, and sweeter. It just felt better. We closed the restaurant down. I finally took her to her front step that night, she made her way inside, and then I made my way home. Nothing happened nor was attempted.

I came home that night, took off my clothes, and went straight to bed. I slept well. I also had a dream about Eliza. She and our daughter kneeled on the floor, their elbows on a short table. They were coloring on a Playskool Lego desk. They looked so much alike with that shared hue of brown skin, that long curly black hair, and those gigantic cheesy smiles. They emanated happiness from every pore. As I walked in, both of my ladies looked up and let out huge uncontrollable squeals of joy. I felt their love and genuine happiness at my presence. It was the best feeling I’d ever had and I remembered how great it felt even after I woke.

I had that dream many more times over after that first night. Different variations but always the same constants - Eliza, our kids, and myself - happily ever after.

I kept those dreams to myself for years until now. Now that it’s over… and probably will never be… I tell you.