Throughout the final few minutes, Sharon clung to me as I did her. I was able to put aside my lust for her as we both leaned on the other and sobbed. But unashamedly, I did feel proud to hold her in my arms, and to cradle her as a man. I gained an extraordinary amount of confidence in that I could step up and become the man she would need for the rest of her life. I could be what she needed if she would allow me… IF… and that was becoming a huge word for me. On so many instants during that day, I soothingly rubbed her hand in mine, held her as her husband, consoling her with love and affection. As sad as I was, I found solace in comforting this beautiful woman in my arms.
And, honestly, my stomach began to get that wrenching twisting gnaw to it… that twinge of unquenchable love and devotion. I was genuinely falling in love with my best friend’s mother.
That night, I stopped by to check in on Sharon, and found her to be completely drunk. She was, again, in her thick pink robe, but this time it was loosely tied… showing a lot more of that beige glossy skin than the other night. Her eyes batted when she saw me, and I could see her spirits immediately engage. Flinging the screen door open, Sharon quickly fell into my arms in heartbreaking cries. I joined her in her sobs as we both stood in the doorway, inattentive to the cold winter air blowing in the door.
“Oh God I miss him.” She wept into my shoulder.
“I know, I do too.” I replied, stroking her soft mahogany hair.
I burrowed my nose amidst her thick tresses, inhaling the pine scented aroma of her intoxicating warmth. Our arms tightened around each other as I lightly kissed her hair.
“I wanted to make sure you were okay.” I whispered into her ear.
“Oh Christopher.” She answered. “You’re so thoughtful.”
With that, we both leaned back to see the tears streaming down both our faces. Lifting my right hand, I brushed my fingertips across her face to wipe away her tears.
“When I look at you, I see him.” She said.
“Is that so bad?” I replied.
Sharon hesitated, unsure amidst her pain and agony. “I don’t know… I don’t think so.”
We stood in the doorway, arm in arm as if two long lost lovers. I treasured gazing deep into her exhilarating deep brown eyes… wondering… thinking… hoping.
“Oh Chris.” She barely whimpered.
“I’m falling in love with you, Sharon.” I finally confessed. “I know this isn’t the right time or place, but I can’t help it. You’re all I think about… you’re all I could ever want in a woman.”
Sharon’s drunken eyes rolled back in her head before laying it on my chest, sighing in torment.
“No, no, no…” she began babbling. “Don’t say that.”
“Its true.” I replied. “I want you as a man… one adult to another.”
“No, no, no, no.” she continued rambling, but not leaving my embrace. “Its grief that’s confusing you, us.”
“Is that bad?” I asked, somewhat baffled by her uncertainty.
“No in that I’ve been wanting the same thing.” She responded, lifting her head back to stare at me. “No because I want you to carry me upstairs and beg you to make love to me until the sun comes up.”