Meet Love Through My Eyes

“Nice dress Serenity,” Felicia says as she joins me on the elevator. “What’s the occasion?”
“Victor and I are having lunch at Mr. Chow’s. I’m meeting his new artist, and, well, you never know what may happen afterwards. Nothing wrong with a little me for dessert is it?”
Felicia laughs. “Oh, no! I am not trying to envision that! Have a good lunch, which I’m sure you will,” she tells me as we exit the elevator into the lobby.
Riding in the backseat, my mind wanders to my husband’s new artist. My interest in her has grown, but I try to disregard the fact that I’m so intrigued. I’ve never met her, and for some reason, stress takes over my body.
We reach Mr. Chow’s and Mark comes around, opens my door, and extends his hand to help me out. “Have a great lunch, ma’am,” he says, then asks, “Shall I wait or will you text me when you’re ready?”
“No, Mark, you don’t have to wait. I’ll text you if I don’t catch a ride with my husband.” His eyes remind me of someone, but I can’t put my finger on it. I’ve never paid attention to that until today.
I glide through the restaurant with the supermodel walk that would kill anybody’s runway. My curls bounce on my breast as I sway from side to side in the perfectly fitted, size six dress. All eyes are on me. At the table Victor sits with the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. She looks familiar and it feels like we’ve met before, but I can’t recall when or where.
“Hazel, this is my wife, Serenity White. Serenity, this is Hazel Brown,” my husband introduces us. As Hazel shakes my hand, chills run through my body, causing every hair on the back of my neck to stand on end. I sit. She’s just as beautiful as my husband described. We order lunch while Victor does his usual babbling of how great an artist she is and how he’s excited to work with her, but my mind is not on the conversation. Instead, it’s on this weird feeling that I know her. I try to figure out where I know her from, but I’m at a loss.
As my husband is speaks, I catch her glaring at me a few times. There’s something behind those eyes that makes me tingle. This woman is doing something to me. She’s doing something to my body, something to my mind. It’s a feeling I’ve never felt, or have, just not with my husband. I’m confused. I glance at my watch. I’ve only been here for ten minutes. Time is moving slowly for the first time since I can recall. My armpits begin to sweat. I take a gulp from the glass of the water in front of me, but that doesn’t help, so I excuse myself.
“Is everything okay, honey?” Victor gets up to pull my chair back.
“Yes. I just need to go powder my nose,” I say in a quiet voice and not showing my anxiety.
Staring in the mirror and trying to calm myself down, I close my eyes and take slow, deep breaths. Someone stands behind me and breathes on the back of my neck. My eyes remain closed as I assume its Victor taking this as an opportunity for another one of our perfect getaway sexcapades. His hands run along my sides caressing me softly. He’s being extremely gentle with me, considering we’re pressed for time. I enjoy the feeling. It’s a different feeling that’s calming me down, so I embrace it.
“I’ve been waiting seven years for this day,” she says in a voice that sounds familiar. I open my eyes to see Carmen standing behind me. My Carmen. It’s the same Carmen it took me months to forget about. Carmen, how could I forget the way she once made me feel? I didn’t, and that’s why I was so intrigued by her when my husband spoke of her. How did she find me? I’m puzzled. Unable to speak, I refrain from asking questions.
“You left without a word. I looked for you. No one would tell me where you’d disappeared to.” She’s speaking softly in my ear. Still unable to move, I continue to listen. “I refused to give up and then finally, I saw a picture of you and your husband on the internet at an awards show. You changed your name. That’s why I couldn’t find you. I’ve missed you so much. We were young back then, but there’s not a day that goes by when I don’t think of you.” My mind is processing everything she’s saying.
“Se-re-ni-ty,” she slowly whispers in my ear, allowing each syllable to roll off her tongue in the most sensual way. I don’t move. Holding back the tears, I blink as they fill up in the wells of my eyes. “Mel-o-dy,” she whispers just as slow. She says my name. A name I haven’t heard in so long. A name I thought no longer existed. Melody. That’s me! My knees get weak below me. She holds me up...