He proclaimed it her best attribute and what he noticed first, her ample chest. Gabby’s response, always, “Gee, thanks Pal.” accompanied by a good, hard punch to the ribs. “That’s it? That’s what you like most about me?”
“Well, I am a guy.” Will responded and with a smirk added. “You could tell me which part you like best about me.”
He looked deeply into her light blue eyes resting his palm in his true favorite spot, “No. This is my favorite part of you.” His hand lay gently over her heart and he could feel it pounding.
“Yeah, right! That’s pretty darn close to your real spot! I know you!” Gabby replied, knowing he was speaking the truth, but she loved to tease him about this very thing.
The electricity and passion between them never failed to cause her to melt.
Into him. Into one.
But they were a long way away from where this word game of theirs started. Thirty years away to be exact.
The question before both of them this time around, and again, was...
“What are we doing?”
Both her ample parts began to heave, in sadness, because she knew.
Gabby’s cheeks were streaked black; mascara running down her face. She kissed him tenderly knowing it would be the last one, softly uttering a final goodbye and got in her car.
Peeling out of the driveway, spewing gravel in her haste, she needed to put as much distance between the two of them as she could. Proximity had been their foe and distance a dear friend.
As she drove, her mind changed as it always did. About Will. Gabby dialed his number?
“This is Will. Leave a message.” God, she loved his voice.
“Okay! I just left you. Please call me. I can’t do it this. There’s never not been an “us”. Please!”
Gabby pulled over and waited.
Thirty minutes later, the text came through…
“No. Your goodbyes hurt me too much.”
Could this be forever?
In a roundabout way, I fell into this song, Under Your Spell by Desire, from a movie recommendation on a blog I follow. I’m obsessed with it but then I'm obsessed with a whole lot of things. I think it’s perfect for the love story of Gabby and Will.
Written for Trifecta’s prompt.
AMPLE: 3. Buxom, portly.