10 The Zing Thing

I gazed into her eyes and tried to find the right words to express it. I was tempted to use the deodorized worth words that will flatter and make her feel special, but that won't work cause she's beyond any word I could use to flatter her.

"Will you be my girlfriend?" I asked at last.

She laughed and I sensed a flippant barrier.

"What am I, your boyfriend?"

I ignored that and assumed the smile of a successful banker.

"Well, I mean the kind of girlfriend that will share my heart, my room and my bed, not one who will prefer using the guest room each time she comes around." She couldn't hold my gaze; I saw the feminine part of her personality that was hidden beneath her classy and professional looking facet.

"I am probably asking for much, but if you are privileged to be in Rome, make sure you get to see the Pope. "

That was how we became lovers.

"Tell me about yourself" I'd requested abruptly one Saturday night as she rested her head on my thighs while she was lying on the couch.

"There is nothing spectacular to tell," she'd begin with a sigh. "My dad, mom and brother died in a crash five years ago, I now manage my dad's businesses." She tried to make it sound as brief as possible, as casual as possible but I knew it was a part of her that she never wanted to talk about. I felt the weight it had on her shoulders and how deeply talking about it hurts her. Instantly, I felt the urge to protect my poor innocent angel. I know what it means to be alone and to take care of all your needs.

"I wish you will understand what I mean if I say you should rely on me." I held her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. She nodded and held my hand firmly...