The Phone Call.

I heard the buzzing in my sleep first. A rhythmic buzz, two quick, one long. Two quick, one long. My eyes fluttered open, disoriented. In my dream, I was just on the beach. I quickly closed my eyes trying to get back there. Buzz buzz… Buuuuuzzz. My eyes opened again and this time I knew it was my phone

This is the part of the story where...

the writer would say “I wondered who could be calling me at this hour?” But that wouldn’t be truthful. Because I knew when I turned my phone over, with the light from the screen illuminating the room, that I’d see her name.

I answered quickly. Half out of instinct, half from not wanting my husband who slept beside me, to wake up. Thankfully, he didn’t move an inch.

“Hello?” I whispered into the receiver. What time is it? I wondered to myself.

“I need you.” she breathed into the phone. My breath caught in my throat and I waited. Waited for her to say more.

“Baby… I need you…” her voice trailing at the end. I turned my head slowly to steal a glance at my husband. Not a stir.

Texts between us in the middle of the night, were not uncommon. While both of us have been married to men for close to two decades, on a random Thursday night she finally admitted what I had hoped for quite some time. She was in love with me. Not that she loved me… she was IN love with me. Best friends turned lovers. Such a trope, right? But reality all the same.

And on some nights, I find myself awake while the world sleeps, longing to be able to reach out and touch her. Hoping if I turn my head, I’ll see her wrapped around her pillow, under a pile of blankets and sleeping softly. Eventually I roll over, to find him. Not her. So my mind… and fingers… drift to what I would do if it had been her. And inevitably, after I’d relived a number of memories (and created a few that my imagination planned for the near future) I’d roll back over quietly breathless, while my husband snored, and text her “I miss you.” Three words that don’t quite touch it. But three words none the less.

I don’t know if her story is like mine. I’m not sure what goes on in her head in the middle of the night. I assume it’s somewhat similar though, as I’ve woken up many mornings to a few text messages from her, and soul crushing regret that I didn’t get them the moment she sent them.

And on a few lucky, extremely rare nights, the text buzz will catch me in the lighter part of my sleep pattern, and I will get it when she sends it. Granted, sometimes it’s wishful thinking, and nothing is there.... but sometimes, it’s her. And she’s awake. And our messages start sweet, but turn desperate quickly. Desperate for sleep. Desperate for each other and wishing that the 6.3 miles between us would disappear. And that text exchange? Well, it always… always… leaves me wet and miserable that she isn’t in my arms.

But a call? A call is rare. So urgency flooded my mind. Why is she calling? Did something happen? Was something wrong? My heart quickened at the thought and I whispered back “Are you ok? What do you need?”

“You…”

I sighed and closed my eyes, relief and wishful thinking replacing every ounce of worry in my mind. “Yeah… same.” I said biting my lower lip. And then, not to my surprise, my fingers started to migrate to the familiar, warm spot that brought visions of her fingers, her breasts, her lips and her tongue...

The impossibleness of it all was suffocating on nights like these. Seeing her in the middle of the night like this, was an impossibility. I knew this. I accepted that this arrangement as our lot in life. I constantly reminded myself that having her in my life in any way, was better than not at all. But hearing her words in the middle of the night? I swear… I could taste her.

My thoughts were interrupted as my phone buzzed again. Only one quick buzz this time. I must have received a text. I glanced at my phone and the banner at the top said her name. Why is she texting me? I’m literally on the phone with her?

I opened the text… it was a photo. It was a photo of her. It was nighttime in the photo. From tonight? I wondered. I could see the white seats of her car behind her. Her hair was down and her impossibly sexy glasses, sat on her face. And even with the glare of a single bulb reflecting on her lens, I could see the hungry look in her eyes… the yearning. And my breath instinctually hitched and I froze, staring back into those eyes, wishing I could get lost in them forever.

My eyes traced down her neck and to her shoulders, which for some reason have always done things to me that I can’t quite explain. Her black bra stuck out from underneath her pink racerback tank top. It was my favorite shirt... with the straps resting closer to her neck than her shoulders. I was back to biting my lip again. Jesus she was beautiful.

After a moment of what I can only describe as cognitive drooling,the rest of the picture came into focus. Past her eyes and through the windows of her car, I recognized the yard behind her. I recognized the roll of turf on the curb that my neighbor’s landscaper left when the sun went down. My breathing halted.

Wash she here? No… she can’t be. My eyes drifted back to my husband, still snoring beside me.

“Babe…” I asked, my own voice trailing off now.

“I need you…” was her response.

And before I could give it another thought, I was up, out of my bed and sliding on the first thing I could find to put on; frayed jean shorts and a long-sleeve blue button up that I had tossed in the hamper when I took it off after work yesterday. Then I moved quickly and quietly out of my room, careful to close the door without a sound, and grateful that my husband sleeps like a rock. He hadn’t moved.

The light from my phone illuminated the living room, and I remembered she was still on the other end. I put my phone up to my ear and rested it on my shoulder, trying to get at least a couple of the buttons together before reaching the door.

But when I approached my front door, I stopped, seeing her shadow through the beveled glass. I opened the door, and her eyes stared directly into mine..

Shocked, I said “what are you doing here?”

She moved her phone away from her face, never breaking eye contact.

“Like I said… I need you," she whispered.

And without another word, she placed her hands on my hips and her lips on mine...