Elizabeth... a Short Story for Steemit

It was past lunch hours, but I sat at the tea room, alone. My head in my hands, I watched the elevator, and let my mind wander...

They say love stories are the best stories, so I had always wanted one for myself. But nothing could have prepared me for its impact when it eventually came, and the many faces which it brought with it.

Many faces that is, all of which portrayed one face... Her face.

We had met by chance in the elevator at the old office building. She was an executive with the bank, at least so she said, while I was a temp. She had walked into the elevator that day, a picturesque description of a strong woman. One who had control over everything in her world, including the minute details. But then there was something in her face, something which called to me when she had smiled and replied my hello. It had suggested that below the boss lady outlook, beneath the perfect woman facade, was a woman who held within her a lot of pain. And I had felt deep sympathy for her.

We were alone, so I had tried to stir a conversation. I can't remember exactly what I had said that day, but whatever it was, it had worked. For it had been sufficient enough to earn me her company at subsequent lunch and tea break hours. And it was during our third lunch together, that she had opened up to me.

It turned out that she had a husband who was more violent than caring. One who dished out more pain than pleasure; who loved, but only to radiate hate.

And she loved him.

She loved him even though she knew she shouldn't. She worshipped him even if it fueled his unwanted desires. Hers was a love story with little sign of a happily ever after, and she knew it. Yet she clung to him. He pushed her to her limits, still she stayed...

I became her counselor, her shrink, her diary. My willing ears were her priest, and my presence her confessionary. She told, and I listened. Tale after tale of lust, mixed with violence, and hate. And beneath it all, her pure, determined love.

Until that day...

She had not been at the elevator, and neither was she at lunch. I had half expected her to show up before lunch hour was over, but she hadn't come. I had even lingered a little after closing hours, expecting to catch her on her way out. But it wasn't to be. She never showed up.

So I started my long wait. Day after day I waited, hoping to catch one more glimpse of her. And each day I went home empty. After a few days I enquired, only to find she never worked at the bank. No one knew her, no one but me. But did I really? For all I had was a name, a single name...

As the days wore on, I lost count. I only knew I wanted to see her. I wanted to see her so bad that it hurt... Even if only to tell her how much she meant...

They say love stories are the best stories, so I had always wanted one for myself. But nothing could have prepared me for that which came with the discovery that I was in love with Elizabeth. A woman like I am, only much older. And nothing could have stopped the faces...

The faces that I saw everywhere... Her face.

The clock ticked six, marking sixty two years since she left. I stood up. It was time to go home again.

THE END