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Authors: Gladys Quintal

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BOOK: The Man of my Dreams
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I'm sorry about what happened with Paul,
he said genuinely.
I hate to see you sad.

I'm not sad anymore, thanks to you,
I smiled back at him, wrapping the towel around me and starting to walk out of the bathroom. He grabbed my arm and pulled me to him, kissing me passionately. I felt as if I'd faint— the feelings were that intense. My head was spinning and I pulled away from him, needing to lie down. I walked towards the bedroom and turned around to see if he was following me.

Are you coming?
I asked, dropping the towel and letting it fall to the ground.

I will be very soon,
he said with a cheeky grin, picking me up and tossing me onto the bed.

There was no gentle foreplay this time, just a sense of urgency and incredible excitement that totally consumed us. It was over as quickly as it begun and I was left gasping for air and in need of another bath.

Are you my Guardian Angel?
I asked him. He bowed his head and looked troubled.

No, far from an angel. More like a monster, I'm afraid.

He looked at me with sadness in his eyes. He gave me half a smile then looked away.

I looked at this beautiful creature standing before me. A monster? He was in no way a monster. In fact, he was the most beautiful thing I'd seen in my life.

He looked puzzled.
Is it not enough that we have what we have? Do you need more?

For now it's enough, my gorgeous man, but one day I'd like to hold you and be with you for real, not just in my dreams. Could it be possible, or are you destined to be only my dream lover?
I waited, looking into his eyes.

I fear if you knew the truth, my love, you'd never forgive me and would no longer want me in your life. The things I do to survive are monstrous, although I've tried to be noble. One day, I fear, you will learn the truth and then I'll lose you forever . . .

The phone was ringing and I jumped out of the bath. Wrapping the towel around me I ran to the phone. It was Maria, asking if I'd be back tomorrow. It was good to hear her voice again, although the words I'd just heard a few minutes ago were still ringing in my head. I doubt anything he could have done would cause me not to want him anymore. So strong were my feelings for him, so deep was my passion. I felt I could forgive him anything as long as he came back to me.

Maria raved on about her latest conquest. Should I tell her about mine? Maybe I should keep him to myself just a little longer, although the compulsion to share was strong.

 

Soon I was pulling my jeep into the hospital car park. It felt like I'd been away for months, not merely two weeks. Maria spotted me the minute I arrived at reception and ran up to give me a big hug.

“Welcome back, girl. You won’t believe what's been going on since you left!” She started going on about who was sleeping with who and the latest scandals. I smiled.

“Paul left me two weeks ago.”
She stopped dead in her tracks and stared into my eyes with compassion.
“Are you alright?”
“I'm fine,” I said, actually meaning it.
She looked puzzled.
“Two weeks ago and I am hearing about it now? What happened? What have you been doing the last two weeks?”

I spent the next hour in between patients and duties telling her how Paul had suddenly decided he didn’t love me anymore. I explained that he'd left the first day of my holidays. I told her I'd gone away to the beach house to recoup and figure out what to do with the rest of my life. Now I was all healed and refreshed and ready to take on the world again. I think she was a little skeptical, suspecting that I may be hiding an aching heart. But eventually she seemed to accept it.

“Did you hear about last night?” Maria asked as we sat down to lunch at the hospital cafeteria. “The Ghost struck again.”

The Ghost was the name the detectives had given to the serial killer who'd been murdering child molesters and rapists for the last 20 years, never leaving the slightest bit of evidence to help the police catch him. He seemingly got in and out through locked doors and windows, leaving no trace of ever being there. I didn’t care if he never got caught. He was somewhat of a hero in my mind.

“No, I haven’t heard the news this morning. What happened?”

“They found a man’s mangled body in a dumpster in one of the alleys in the city. DNA identified him as a rapist cops have been trying to catch for months."

Good,
I thought to myself.
Got what he deserved

"Actually, one of the rapist’s victims is in this hospital. She turned up at the hospital not knowing how she got here. She remembers the rapist was about to assault her, and then waking up in hospital. One of the orderlies found her on the front steps. Tests showed she wasn't raped, but she has quite a bad head injury."

There was something familiar about this story. A lot of women over the past 20 years had told similar tales. They, too, thought of the Ghost as a hero. Not only had he saved them from being raped, but most likely saved their lives, as well. As for the perpetrators being murdered . . . that was karma as far as I was concerned. Of course, the cops still had to try to find him. Vigilantes were criminals in the eyes of the law, even though most of the police force probably secretly sang his praises. He was helping to rid the streets of filth and saving many innocent people in the process.

I decided to visit this latest victim during my rounds. Her records identified her as Jenny. She was looking well and propped up on her pillows watching Days of our Lives on TV. I asked if she minded telling me what had happened. She didn’t mind at all, so happy she was not to have been raped and murdered!

“I remember him holding a knife to my throat and then throwing me onto the ground. I hit my head really hard and almost blacked out. He was going to rape me,” Jenny's voice quivered. She paused.

“But then suddenly he wasn’t there anymore and I felt strong arms pick me up. The next thing I remembered was waking up here.”
She looked at me and smiled.
“You didn’t see the man who saved you?” I asked. I was really curious about this Ghost.

“No, but I felt him,” she answered. “He was very warm and strong and I felt safe with him. It's hard to believe he's the same man ripping criminals apart. I'm forever indebted to him. If the cops do find him he should get a medal!”

I had to admit I agreed with her. This man intrigued me. He turned up in time to stop a horrendous crime and then went about killing the assailant, sparing future victims. The cops said in a few press conferences that the perpetrators were ripped apart as if by some sort of wild animal, impossible for a man to do. There was hardly any blood at the scene and no trace evidence at all. They were baffled and couldn’t explain it.

Keep up the good work,
was all I could think.
Hope they never catch you.

The rest of the day pretty much went without incidence. I was a little tired coming back after such a relaxing break. My feet hurt.

“Drinks after work,” Maria announced.
Darn! I was hoping to sneak out undetected. I wanted to get home to bed and my dark haired man. No chance of that now.
"Okay Maria, your place? I'll grab a bottle of wine on the way.”
She smiled and nodded. Maybe I could have a quick drink and then get home to . . . dream.

 

“Where’s the corkscrew?” I was looking in the drawer where it usually was, but couldn't see it.

“Right in front of you, I’m sure you need glasses, woman!” Maria laughed as she picked it up out of the drawer and handed it to me.

She was a beautiful woman with long red hair and sparkling green eyes. Her smile lit up any room and she certainly had her share of admirers. She wasn’t ready to settle down and start making babies just yet. She was “still having fun,” as she put it. I opened the bottle, poured us both a generous glass, and headed over to sit beside her on the couch.

“So tell me about what's been happening," she said, smiling at me and sipping from her glass.

I retold the story of Paul, in more detail this time. Years ago I told her of a man I dreamt of every night. She'd been very interested and always pried me for details. But there had never really been many details to share . . . until Paul left. My dark haired man had only held me and soothed me before. But with Paul gone I was free, and my dream lover knew it.

"How on earth did you get through that without even so much as a phone call to your best friend?” she asked. “You know I'd have called in my sick leave and come with you to the beach house for a few days, better than you moping there all alone.”

I looked at her and smiled.
“I wasn’t exactly alone," I replied. “Technically, but not really."
She looked at me as if I had lost my mind.
“What do you mean?”
“He was with me," I said blushing and looking down at my glass.
At first I could see it didn't register, but then it clicked. She realized who the “He” was.
“Oh, what did he do? Tell me everything!”
And so I did.

Starting from the fall from the balcony to the amazing lovemaking, I poured out the details. She sat listening intently, gasping and grabbing my arm when I got to the juicy bits. At least she wasn’t looking at me like I was a crazy woman, even though she was convinced I'd made him up.

“Give me some of that,” she laughed. “You lucky thing, imagine going to bed every night to that?”
“I don’t have to imagine,” I said smiling.
“Wow, maybe you knew him in another life or maybe he is a dream man that you've invented until you find one for real?”

I had no idea, but I was very glad he was here. We spent the rest of the night talking about possible reasons for him coming to me and the latest man in Maria’s sights. It was fun. I ended up enjoying myself and was glad I went.

I was so tired when I got home that I kicked off my shoes and lay on top of my bed, asleep in no time.

I woke to the alarm in the morning, still fully dressed and feeling confused.
He didn’t come to me last night. Why, after all these wonderful nights, did he not show? Was I not supposed to tell anyone? But I'd told Maria before about him, although not in such detail . . . Or was it the questions I asked him last night? Had I scared him off?
I got up feeling a genuine sense of loss and sadness. I climbed into the shower and let the water run over me.

Please come back to me,
I begged.

Chapter 8

A Dream Come True

 

But he didn’t come back.

The next few weeks went by without as much as a sign. I'd had him in my life for the last 16 years, so his absence left a huge hole. I tried to act normal at work and around Maria, but inside I was dying. He'd promised he would never leave me . . . but he had. I don’t know why I was so upset, considering he wasn’t even real. But I felt like I'd lost my soul mate. I wasn’t sleeping well, and it was showing. I was tired all the time and really not feeling myself at all.

 

“Are you going to eat that?” Maria asked. “You've been staring into space for the last ten minutes."
“I’m not really hungry," I said looking down at my plate of macaroni cheese.
“Cool," she said and grabbed it off my plate, shoveling it into her mouth.

God knows how she stayed so slim. The woman ate like a horse. As I watched her wolfing down my lunch, my stomach started to churn. Great! On top of everything, now I have food poisoning. I ran to the toilet and only just made it before throwing up the little bit I'd managed to eat.
Why is the universe doing this to me? I'm a good person. Haven’t I had enough heartache for one lifetime?
I felt better after ridding myself of my stomach contents and went back out to warn Maria. Too late. She'd just finished the last spoonful.
Better not tell her,
I thought,
or she’ll will herself into being sick, as well!

“Are you okay, Hun, you look a little pale?”
“Yes, just a bit of a funny tummy. Probably something I ate," I said, looking at the empty plate and smiling.
She glanced down at my lunch which she'd just devoured.
“Nah probably just that time of month," she said, smiling and oblivious. “Let’s get out of here.”

We went outside into the fresh air to enjoy our last fifteen minutes of freedom. It was another beautiful sunny day, so we decided to soak up some free vitamin D while it lasted. I recalled what Maria had said. When was I due? With all that had been going on, I'd completely lost track of my cycle. She was probably right, though. I'd been feeling tired and I did get a queasy stomach just before getting my period. And I didn’t feel sick now, so it couldn’t be food poisoning. Hopefully I had some tampons in my handbag just in case it decided to come while I was still at work.

 

I walked inside to a quiet house. It really did seem empty now that my friend was no longer present. I had to figure out how to keep going without him. It would be hard, but I had to do it.

Coffee and a bath, think about dinner later
. I turned the taps to run a bath then put the kettle on. I made my coffee and went back to check the water temperature—perfect. I grabbed the coffee and thought I'd have it in the bath. Multitasking! I climbed in . . . heaven. A good soak is just what I needed after today. I went to take a sip of coffee and my stomach churned.
Not again!
I really started to feel sick and jumped out of the bath, running to the toilet to once again throw up. This time I felt really ill, literally sitting on the floor retching and hugging the toilet.
Great. I really am sick.
I wrapped the towel around me and lay down on my bed. I was asleep almost immediately.

BOOK: The Man of my Dreams
3.03Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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