She sat at her computer. The blue light only partially lit up the large room. āItās too dark, she thought to herself as she typed, āThis canāt be good for my eyes.ā She was too lazy to get up and turn on any lights though, so she sat there and continued her task until she heard the familiar whine of the modem connecting her computer to the internet. There was nothing worse than opening your inbox to find nothing, which happened to her more often than not. She couldnāt stop herself from checking though, so her disappointment seemed endless. Secretly she hoped to hear from him. She didnāt really expect it, it had been close to a year, but she continued to check, hopeful with each attempt that she would receive something from him. She used to. She used to get emails from him a lot. At the time she thought maybe she heard from him too much, like he was too eager, almost insincere. She missed that. Although plentiful, emails from him were always thoughtful, and usually extremely witty. It had inspired the same from her and she had never felt more clever or attractive then when the days when they had communicated. She wondered what he was doing now as she slowly signed on to her email account. As the page loaded she saw she had received 8 new messages since this morning. āProbably just junk mail,ā she reasoned. She clicked on the inbox and began to assess her mail. Suddenly an email address jumped out at her and she immediately disregarded all her other mail. āThis could not possibly be from him.ā She clicked on the email in question in amazement. It seemed an eternity before the message appeared on her screen. It was. I was him. Her heart stopped. Why had he emailed her now? She had tried to contact him a couple of months back and received no response, she had though for sure that he had simply forgotten about her. But here it was, a message, she hardly had the courage to sit and read it. What could he possibly have to say? She opened her eyes and focused on the screen.
Karen,
I got your message. Sorry for the late response, but I wondered whether or not I should respond at all. I donāt want to interfere with you and your husband. I knowā¦ well I think we should talk. Let me know what you think.
JM
Not a long message. She read it through three times before she could fully take it in. He had responded. He remembered. He was probably right not to respond sooner. He did distract her from her husband. She loved Jim but she often found herself wondering about John Madison and what could have happened if she had let it. Sometimes she wished that she had. The chemistry between them had been undeniable. She had never been tempted before John. Not once. But John was different. His smile intrigued her, his wit captivated her, and his sex appeal drew her. She found it hard to control herself around him. Her body ached to let him touch her as she remembered the night they had finally gotten to really speak to each other. She had held back, and at the time she was grateful, but now? What had her restraint gotten her? Fantasies that can never be fulfilled? A desire that continues to grow in her imagination until she can hardly think of anything else? She glanced down at the email in front of her. He had responded. She sighed.
John,
So glad you responded. I was beginning to wonder if you even remembered me at all. Youāre right, you are the worst kind of distraction for me. Trouble with a capital T. But I just canāt stop. What can we do?
Karen
Her response seemed trite, not at all up to par to their original correspondence. She didnāt feel up to revising it though and sent it anyway before she lost her nerve. She waited weeks for his response. When it finally came she drew her breath. She felt shivers move though her as she opened the email and began to read it. It was almost as if he was here again, and not in Savannah, God she wished he was here.
Karen,
Not much to do. Some things just werenāt meant to be. But never forget, I most certainly do remember you. I remember you every day. I remember you in my sleep.
