We held each other so tightly. I couldn’t speak. I was afraid to. Because if I opened my mouth, what spilled out would be words of love, and I couldn’t do that to him.
How would I feel if I were in his shoes, and I had to return my lover back to his own realm, right after he’d confessed he loved me?
I knewexactly. It would feel as though I’d abandoned him.
It was better for him not to know.
He kissed my forehead, an intimate gesture that always gladdened my heart. “We have to go now.”
I nodded.
No words.
When I was fifty-one
2018
I kicked the door shut, and Santa’s lips claimed mine a moment later.
“One of these days,” I panted as I removed his cloak, “we’ll walk in here andnotget naked within three nanoseconds. We might, you know, have a conversation.”
He froze. “Do you want to talk?”
I rolled my eyes. “Hell no.”
“Oh, thank God.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me toward his bedroom.
“Just putting it out there as an alternative.”
“Duly noted.”
“I mean, there’ll come a day when I’ll be too old for all these bedroom gymnastics.”
He came to a halt by the bed, his eyes wide. “You don’t envisage that happening anytime soon, do you?”
“Not as long as I keep taking my vitamins.”
Santa grinned. “Now I know what to get you for Christmas next year.”
“I’ve already gotyourpresent right here.”
That earned me another grin. “I hope it’s the same thing you gave me last year.”
“Seeing as you liked it so much, I didn’t want to disappoint you.”
He enfolded me in his arms. “You could never do that.”
And just like that, playful banter gave way to fervent kissing as we sank onto his bed.
Sometimes, conversation is overrated, bodies speak louder than words, but hearts speak louder still.
“We should eat.”
“Mm-hm.”
“No, really, we should.”
“Mm-hm.”