The first time I laid eyes on you, all those months ago, something deeply profound happened to my body. Something inexplicable. Something I can’t possibly explain. It knew even before I did that you were going to be the one.
I remember taking in every inch of your body before I could bring myself to look at your face. My eyes danced around your hands, your arms, your shoulders, the tiny part of exposed flesh above your top button, before they crept up your neck. I remember pausing, my heart racing, before allowing myself to gaze up at you.
How right I’d been to allow myself to relish in that glorious moment.
Your face was a fascinating study in contrast. Soft versus sharp, dark versus light, rough versus smooth. Your skin the colour of cream, your lips, wet with saliva, flushed the same deep red as your cheeks. Your hair was as dark and thick as could be but fell softly around your face, and your sharp cheekbones gave way to kind grey eyes.
I remember thinking how beautifully your features lay on your face, how wonderfully your skin wrapped around your skull.
You were wearing very plain clothes, typical office attire: a button up shirt and trousers. You were so humble; I knew this then. I watched as you shook off your umbrella, scanning the room and running a hand through your hair. My eyes followed as tiny water droplets fell to the ground and disappeared into the carpet.
When your eyes finally met mine, you gave me a small nod and a polite smile before disappearing into the manager’s office.
For the rest of the day I sat at my desk, trembling like a small animal, my heart flinging itself around my ribcage. I was suddenly very aware of everything happening under my skin. I felt every cell in my body – every artery, every nerve. Every throb of every vein. I could feel each organ, pulsing and writhing inside me so violently that I thought I would eventually throw up, left entirely empty, as if I’d been licked clean.
Despite my restlessness, I knew that wouldn’t be the last time we saw each other. Somewhere, hidden beneath the ferocity of my desperate anxiousness to see you again, was an underlying current of calm. I knew exactly how this would play out. I knew there was no way the universe would deliver you to me like this, give me this taste of you, just to rip you away from me forever. That is not how this story goes.
So I drank my coffee. I answered the phone, I filled out my paperwork, I responded to pointless emails. I furrowed my brow in sympathy when Amelia whined about her landlord. I nodded along in meetings. I wrote a lovely message in Sloane’s birthday card, and even joined in the ridiculous fussing over the cake. “Yes, it’s gorgeous! This is the fluffiest sponge I’ve ever had. No, exactly, not too sweet. I’ll be the first to say it – this really is the perfect amount of icing.”
Everything fell into place a few days later, when in our morning meeting Robert announced that we’d be having a new member of the team join us. I remember sitting very still, not allowing myself to breathe.
And then there you were. I looked up at you, my lips parted slightly, eyes wide, and you grinned at me like we were the only two people in the room. The rest is history.
Today is Valentine’s Day, and I’m the happiest girl in the world.
Everyone in the office, however, is treating me like I’m on the verge of a breakdown. They think today is a day of mourning, and not the celebration of love that it really is. I’ve received more solemn embraces and sympathetic glances than a person can take. I roll the truth around on my tongue, delighting in the universally indulgent pleasure of possessing a secret. I spend the day trying not to giggle at how ignorant everyone is being, but I do a great job of maintaining a very serious disposition.
I know they wouldn’t understand, so I keep it all inside. I run my tongue along the inside of my teeth, savouring the taste.
Whenever the day grows dull, when trying to stop the pure happiness from spilling out begins to feel wearisome and everyone’s grim faces become too much to bear, all I have to do is think about you, safe in my stomach, swirling around with my coffee and toast, and everything feels okay.
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