i need to fill up this part of the site so i’ll try to do some prompts here and there. (may or may not be proofed)
the prompt is from @VanessaGebbie “The man who told her he’d loved her nine years after…”
The man who told her he’d loved her nine years after she first walked into his office immediately clamped his hands over his mouth as the words escaped. It wasn’t intentional by any means, but he had been thinking it 8 years, 364 days, and about four hours seeing as it was now noon and they started their work day at 8am. “Maybe my brain is just yelling as usual and I wasn’t dumb enough to let it slip out of my mouth,” he thought to himself, but as he looked across the lunchroom table he realized that he had in fact said it and she had in fact, heard every word of it. Not just her, but the rest of the people at their lunch table. It was a regular group of people they had their microwaveable or cafeteria lunches with everyday. Close enough to know what was going on in their children’s lives but by no means an audience for this gross and untimely matter of self-expression. There was no audience known to man equipped to handle this display of emotion. They all sat stone faced with forks hanging in mid air wondering what to do next. He watched their eyes slowly shift from his mouth to hers to see if any type of response would escape her lips. A sign of any sort that they should disregard this brief moment of insanity and continue with their humdrum lunch hour. But they couldn’t. They would be talking about this…forever. Even after their last day of employment and cashing in the 401Ks. They’d all remember the random day that their silly coworker professed his love for a woman they figured he had only known casually. And that was mostly the fact of the matter. He had only known her in the office setting and occasional happy hour get togethers they used to have before people got tired of them and made other plans for 5pm on a Friday. But they had a lot in common and had grown as close as you could to a co-worker after seeing each other day in and day out for nine years. He was a sympathetic ear during her divorce. She stopped by with dinners when he was dealing with his mother’s death. He was sure that she viewed him as an actual friend not just a good co-worker.
His brain flicked back to the seconds prior to his snafu. What on earth caused him to blurt out the feelings he had kept well hidden for so long. She passed him the ketchup. The ketchup! The most unromantic of all the condiments. Her fingers barely grazed his hand but it was enough to bear his soul.
He finally found the strength or will or whatever piece of you that makes you look into the eyes of a person you just confessed your love to, and waited for her reaction.
She smiled politely and removed the ketchup bottle from his hands. On the plate in between them, out fart-squirted a giant portion for them to dip their fries in. She casually ate a few French fries as the table awaited her verbal response. He slowly removed his hand from his mouth and hoped that just maybe the casual lunch he intended to have could continue on its path. He joined in the fry dipping and slowly the rest of the lunch table continued with their meals. In some sort of whispered tones hoping that at any minute the topic of love would spring back on the table. Eventually they slowly gathered their Tupperware and lunch trays and retreated back to the sea of cubicles on the twelfth floor.
Soon it was just the two of them left at the table. And gradually the late lunchers filtered out and headed back to their desk. Every last French fry was gone and the smears of ketchup on the plate were the only thing between them. Uncomfortable didn’t begin to describe how he was feeling. He was putting his deodorant’s stress blocking sensors to the test. Too chicken to make a move, yet determined to stick it out he just sorta sat there.
She brushed the salt off her fingers and cracked her knuckles. Looking him dead in his eye she finally spoke.
“What’s that now?”
Exasperated he considered a simple “nevermind” just to get the agony over with and return to his desk. But he had figured he’d come this far and really nine years was just long enough so he took a deep breath and grabbed her hands, French fry salt and all, and gazed into her eyes and repeated the words slowly. He considered going into more detail. He loved the way she smelled and wore her hair and could never eat a meal without staining her clothes or the way she hummed when really into a project or that she’s the only reason he hadn’t moved to a different floor or job or city. But he left it plain and simple. It felt better. Intentional. A weight removed from his shoulders, and heart.
“Goodness what took you so long. So what are we going to do about this? I’m ready to move on if you are. I can move in to your place or you can move into mine. It’s kinda small but maybe we could rent a storage place. I’m ok either way. Oh but I do have that cat. I’m attached and you have allergies. So maybe we should look into some Allegra. There’s ways around that. I can buy a good vaccum. Do you have a preference about cable providers? I’m locked into a contract.”
“Wait. What?”
“Oh I’m so sorry. I’m totally in love with you too. So I’m planning ahead. Cable providers. I can look up a way around the contract when I get back to my desk. Preference?”
“How bout maybe we just go on a date first? Would that be good?”
“That would be wonderful.”
ROTFLMAO!!! LOVE it. 🙂