Sylvie Falls in Love: Sylvie's Romance, #2

Chapter 1

Get it out, it’s okay, Colleen whispered as she handed Sylvie an overflowing shot of tequila. And get this in you, it’ll help ."

Sylvie’s shaking hands sloshed the strong liquor onto her lap, mixed with tears falling from her eyes. Colleen started to hand her a Kleenex, but thought better of it when she saw the amount of snot running out of Sylvie’s nose and retrieved a worn pink dishtowel from the kitchen instead.

When you’re all cried out and drunk, we’ll go collect your stuff from his house. Then burn the fucker down.

Sylvie had to smile, despite the pain she was feeling; she could always count on her best friend for support and alcohol.

Sylvie hadn’t been looking for love when she met Michael; she was dating online as research for a romance novel she was attempting to write and having horrible luck with the men she met. She had gone on a few blind dates hoping to experience what it was like to be swept off her feet, but had only met with disaster or boredom. The dates she’d met for research had shown her no sign of romance and left her seriously concerned that there was to be none in her real life either.

One day while running an errand for work, she saw Michael. Sylvie couldn’t be certain it was love at first sight — since he was incredibly hot and all the women were in love with him — but after their first date she knew they were compatible, and she wanted more. Their first date was a simple dinner at a restaurant, and afterwards a stroll along the beach under the moonlight. They talked and laughed, and felt an instant connection to each other, which led to a single kiss goodnight and the promise of another date the next day.

Their second date consisted of snorkeling in the ocean and lounging on the beach under a giant umbrella, talking and getting to know each other. Michael wasn’t as strong a swimmer as her, but Sylvie didn’t mind; she was simply overjoyed with his presence. And he was even better looking in his surf shorts than she had imagined. While he was frantically swimming after a bright yellow butterfly fish, trying to get a closer look but actually getting further and further away, Sylvie just watched him through her grey-tinted goggles and smiled to herself. Michael was truly enjoying himself, able to get lost in the moment and was not at all self-conscious in front of her. A high level of comfort immediately sprung up between them, and Sylvie felt this was a sign of good things to come. She was happy.

She was more than merely content for the first time in a long time; longer than she could remember. Even though it was only their second date, she felt like she had known him a lifetime — perhaps she had known him in every past life they had ever lived. Thoughts of a past life weren’t normal for her; she had never really entertained the idea of living a life over and over, but her connection with Michael felt like it had been there forever.

The sparks of their first days together kindled a flame inside Sylvie she had never felt, even though she had thought she was in love before. Her heart opened to him, and because of this, to everyone around her. She looked at the world anew, and felt she was finally in sync with it. She began to write her romance novel with all the passion she felt for the first time.

With this new-found joy in her life, the words poured out of her soul as she had hoped they would when she first began to write her book. Before Michael, her writing was forced and fake; writing about love, but not feeling it, made her attempts sound corny. After meeting Michael, Sylvie locked herself in her house, turned off her phone, and wrote about magic and passion and love, and the beauty in her soul made the words ring true. After a week of isolation, she emerged with several chapters of her book; not just a romance novel, but a true love story. She finally understood what that meant.

Over the next several weeks, Sylvie divided her time between her accounting job, catching up with her best friend Colleen and her few other close friends, working on her novel, and seeing Michael; she had never been so busy before and she loved it. Every moment of every day was occupied, and for the first time, she felt like she was living life to the fullest.

Her relationship with Michael was progressing as the days went by, and he didn’t pressure her to move faster than she wanted; he understood her priorities and didn’t try to make her abandon her writing to spend time with him. They were content to see each other on weekends, plus one evening each week until her writing was complete. Sylvie relished those feelings of a newborn relationship, even though she yearned for the comfort of someone who knew her inside and out.

They waited until their fifth date to have sex, although it was all Sylvie could think about during their second date on the beach seeing Michael’s tan, muscular body in his surf shorts. He had a farmer’s tan from his construction job, and Sylvie used this as an excuse to constantly reapply sunblock to his body. She enjoyed the after-care as well, lovingly coating him in aloe. It was difficult to restrain herself from leading him to her bed after her hands were all over his body, but the prelude to their first sexual experience was giving her a tension which she could use in her writing. She was driving herself crazy thinking about sleeping with him, but the anticipation of that moment was something she would never be able to recapture; Sylvie wanted to keep that feeling as long as she could stand it.

Their fifth date was a simple dinner at her house, late in the evening after Sylvie had finished the daily work on her novel. She enjoyed cooking for Michael, and grilled steaks — his favorite — with asparagus and seasoned potatoes. Together they finished a bottle of red wine, and sat talking at her kitchen table until well past the time they normally parted ways on a work night.

They lingered at the table — Michael hoping for an invitation to stay the night, and Sylvie working up the courage to extend him one. They seemed to know this was the night they had been waiting for, but both were a little afraid. After the few perfect days together, what if they found out they were totally incompatible in such an important aspect of their future?

Sylvie always wondered about the small number of people she knew who had waited until marriage to have sex with their partner. Sexual compatibility, to her, was near the top of the list of factors to consider in a relationship; way more important than who takes out the garbage. She would always want to know before making any commitment.

Nervous with the unspoken agreement about the evening, Sylvie knew she had to take control, and did so in as direct a manner as possible to save any embarrassment.

It’s late. Come to bed.

And when she held out her hand to him, he took it.

Chapter 2

Honey, I have to pick up the kids from school and drop them at soccer practice ."

Colleen startled Sylvie out of her daydream, back to the nightmare reality she could hardly believe was real.

I’ll be back in 20 minutes, so get comfortable, watch TV, don’t forget to breathe. I’ll leave the bottle on the coffee table; feel free to finish it if you’d like. In fact, I think you should finish it. You might as well have a goal for today.

Colleen retrieved the half-empty bottle of El Jimador from the kitchen and placed it within Sylvie’s reach. She stood there thoughtfully for a moment, staring at Sylvie crying into a dish towel, then walked back to the kitchen and returned with two additional dish towels and a one-pound bag of peanut M&Ms.

I was hiding these from the kids, so if they ask, you brought them over. I don’t want the family to know I have a secret stash or they might start looking.

As the door closed behind Colleen, Sylvie was drawn back into herself, thinking about how things could have gone so wrong with Michael, and how she didn’t even suspect there was a problem while they were together.

Sylvie woke to her alarm that sunny fall morning, so long ago now, and instantly leapt to hit the snooze button. She looked to the right side of her bed and saw Michael drowsily rubbing his eyes. Her heart thumped in her chest — it wasn’t a dream! It would have been the greatest dream of her life, but it was real, and Sylvie blushed with happiness. She rolled back onto her pillow as Michael reached out and pulled her close.

Good morning, she whispered.

Good morning, he replied. I hope you’re not in a rush to get to work.

The night had been magical; both bodies intuitively knew exactly what the other wanted and needed without any thought. They were unhurried, taking their time to get to know the smallest details of each other. Michael was gentle and confident, and had covered every inch of Sylvie’s body with kisses.

Sylvie hadn’t had a boyfriend for over a year before she met Michael, nor so much as a one-night stand in that time. It took all her restraint to move slowly and enjoy the sensations of a new lover exploring her body; her pent-up anticipation finally demanded her attention until she couldn’t take it anymore and grabbed him and slid him inside her.

It didn’t take long for Sylvie to climax; she felt every muscle in her body tense until the pleasure swept through her from limb to limb. Her soft cries brought Michael to his finish, and together they laid there in silence, just holding each other until sleep took them.

That morning, sex was just as sweet. The act wasn’t as exploratory, knowing they were both due at work, but the pleasure derived was even greater with the knowledge that they fit together perfectly — and had a lifetime of opportunities to practice.

Michael drank a cup of coffee before he left for work. Sylvie sat down at her kitchen table and turned on her computer, then reached for her phone. With the sensations still fresh in her body and mind, she wanted to spend her day writing. Her book was nearly finished, but lacking the necessary impact of a great, final love scene — now she could feel the hands on her body, his lips against hers, his hardness pressed against her, the butterflies in the pit of her stomach. She called in sick to work so she could get the details down on paper.

Sylvie brewed another pot of coffee and began writing. She stopped only long enough to eat, and by the end of the day had written the final love scene for her romance novel. It was complete, and she was exhausted.

She was in love.

When Sylvie got over the initial excitement of finishing her second novel, she let her mind wander. She began to make dinner, and soon realized she was absently humming a song and replaying her evening with Michael on an endless loop. She couldn’t stop thinking about him, with a happy smile on her face. She wanted to talk to him right then, to know how his day was, to kiss him, to feel his warmth when she stepped into his embrace.

Sylvie stopped short, splashing boiling water all over the floor in front of the sink, causing her to dance around to avoid the burning droplets. She hadn’t felt like this before, and she realized she was terrified.

Chapter 3

Have you even moved since I left? Colleen walked across the living room and plopped onto the couch next to Sylvie. You haven’t touched your drink. Or the M&M’s. If you don’t want them, I’m going to hide them again before anyone comes home ."

She grabbed the bag of candy from the coffee table and clutched them to her chest, looking expectantly at Sylvie.

Go ahead and hide them; I don’t think I can eat anything, Sylvie sadly replied. But she did take a long sip of the tequila, nearly spitting it out when a sob escaped her chest.

Cry all you like, honey. It’s okay. Makai and the kids will be home in about an hour, though. We can go back to your house if you want, and I should probably drive you.

I think I’d like to go home. I can’t deal with Sol and Lily today. They’ll want to play with me, and I just can’t do it. Sylvie felt the extra anguish of not being able to take joy in Colleen’s kids, her two favorite children.

You have nothing to be sorry about. They’ll never know you were here. Mak is picking them up from soccer and I told him not to expect me. Let’s get you home. Colleen spied a reusable red shopping bag across the room and took it to the kitchen. How are you set for booze? I don’t want to stop on the way. She packed the remainder of the bottle of tequila in the bag and found a spare in the cabinet above her refrigerator, just in case.

Good thing my kids are still young or I might not have anything to drink around here.

Colleen threw the giant bag of M&Ms in the bag for Sylvie, and rooted around in the kitchen for any other junk food she could find, plus a small bag of ground coffee. She came up with a family-sized bag of sea salt potato chips, a handful of mini-bags of goldfish crackers, and a one-pound bag of red licorice and added them to the care package. After surveying the contents of the shopping bag, unsatisfied, she went back to the liquor cabinet and added a half-bottle of rum and a mostly-full bottle of vodka — Just in case, Colleen mumbled to herself.

"I wish you’d given me a heads-up you were gonna dump him; I would’ve been better prepared. I think we have enough to get you through the night, though. We