Pulling down the shade

I drop off my daughter at afterschool. You call me into your office. You pull down that tiny shade over the little window in your office and lock the door.

You turn to me; you seem tentative, a bit afraid. You tell me you are going to miss me; there are tears in your eyes. I reach out to you; you pull me to you in a tight embrace. I nuzzle your neck; you start to kiss me. We are both crying now, our hands exploring each other, as we somehow manage to express our love for each other, our need for each other. I stroke you and caress you, comfort you and hold you.

We make plans to meet when and where we can be alone, with no one intruding on our privacy.

And that’s a whole other fantasy.