You’re Beautiful – Part II (A Short Story of Love)

Published on by thelonelyauthorblog

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Rubbing the sleepiness out of her eyes, Lizbeth sat up in her bed. She found Drew sleeping in the corner.

Obviously, her handsome guardian watched over her, ready to wake her if she displayed any signs of a nightmare.

He protected her so. What else could she expect from a man who held his dying father in his arms? Then, three years repeated the scene with his mother.

Left with no family, Drew would never let anything happen to her. He could never bear that pain, again.

She stood to awaken him, then, hesitated. How could she miss someone even when they were in the same room? What a hopeless romantic.

Tapping her finger over her pouty lips, she wanted to do something special to make him happy. Glancing at the dresser the perfect idea came to her.

Lizbeth tossed a pillow on the floor. Grabbed a bottle of foot massage oil from the dresser and placed it next to him. Taking the ear buds out of his ears, she grabbed his phone.

No need to inspect it. She already knew the song he played.

Lying on the floor, she rested her head on the pillow. Moving ever so carefully, she parked her bare feet in his lap.

He will be pleasantly surprised when he awakens.

Inserting the plugs into her ears, she hit play. The soft instrumentals soothed her. She eased her hand into the thick white bathrobe to stroke her flat belly.

There were so many things she wanted to give this man who changed her life. He taught her to give without taking. He taught her to treasure every moment.

He reminded her of the importance of family.

What will he think when he hears the family of two will soon be three?

Her brown eyes moistened. What better gift to bestow on this loving man?

A lone tear drop streaked down the side of the face until it wet her ear. She closed her eyes to focus on the music.

The lyrics whispered, “You’re beautiful…”

Yes, she felt beautiful. Drew taught her to feel that way. He kissed every unsightly birthmark, her small perky breasts, even the extra five pounds she recently added. The adorable ape adored her every flaw.

Strong hands grabbed her feet.

Lizbeth sighed. Life couldn’t be better.

“You’re beautiful. It’s true…”

110 thoughts on “You’re Beautiful – Part II (A Short Story of Love)”

  11. Lovely story, Andrew–as a fantasy.
    In real life, this sort of love can be smothering. My husband is too romantic (some people think there can be no such thing) and it can be a burden to be “the all” to another person.
    The feet part was very nice. 😀

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    1. Smiling. Any woman who can connect with me like that will have a faithful man by her side. Yeah, I don’t like smothering. I like to give plenty of attention and SPACE, but I NEED ALONE TIME TO WRITE. That is where the downfall to my relationships always begin. Thanks for reading and commenting.

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      1. At least my husband is good regarding my writing time. When I go in my room and shut the door, he never bothers me unless it’s extremely important. And he doesn’t get pissed when I spend most of my day there (which is nearly every day from about noon till 6pm).
        What gets to me is too much mushy talk. Hearing 20 times a day that you’re beautiful can begin to sound like false praise after a while.

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        1. You are SO lucky. My error is I get ladies so addicted to the attention, then they want it to never end. “Oh, you love your writing more than you love me.” Shaking my head. I agree with the dislike of mushy talk. It devalues the message. But I am romantic, just not clingy. Space is important. Missing a person is good for a relationship.

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          1. Some people–more so women than men–need a lot of attention to feel loved. If your wife has interests that don’t involve you, try pouting when she spends time on those activities. 😀
            Another note, and I’m speaking generalities here, the older women get, the less attention they need to feel loved. It is a perk of maturing. Too many younger women base their worth on what men think of them, and how much attention is showed on them. It’s an insecurity thing. Old ladies like me don’t give a rat’s ass about what men think of them, how much they are adored. Take us or leave us, we don’t give a shit. 🙂

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            1. Oh, my lady is much younger than I. A wonderful lady, but attention needy. I’ve tried to get her into different hobbies, but it always comes back to attention needs. We discussed this before, if there is an next lady, she wiull be a writer – or at least a reader. And I will be handing out applications and asking for references. Sorry for venting. SMILE

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              1. I understand completely. My first husband, who died young of heart disease, was not a reader nor writer. Ditto, present husband. Both gave me space, but both have absolutely no interest in my writing. My husband has multiple serious health issues, so I could be a widow again any day. (Or he could live many more years.) I decided a long time ago I will never marry again–I’ll just join a local writers group. lol

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          1. You must NEVER have a dreary day. EVER! Now you have given me a challenge. I’m not going to get anything done at work today because I am going to spend my entire day trying to make yours anything but dreary. What shoes should I wear today? Hmmm……… 🙂

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  15. I was going to just comment on how lovely the story was and then I started reading the comments. Utterly fascinating, both your readers and your own. Love and desire is so complicated and really hard work. It ebbs and flows with time and circumstances. I am not clingy or jealous or particularly romantic but my husband can be emotionally needy. Perhaps it is better to be with someone who is not a writer, however, with two egos competing?

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    1. Thank you. When I wrote the original, I wrote it as a solo piece, but a good friend wanted to read more. So, whatever Lola wants Lola gets. Not sure where to go with this. Iid like to think two loving, giving people like Drew and Lizbeth would live happily ever after; fulfilling their voids and needs. Thanks for reading.

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  18. There is no experience more wonderful than being in love and expecting that first baby. A fine moment that can only be had once in life. Beautiful imagery that frames our need for a love that lasts and the risk of commitment it requires because in this world nothing lasts. Your writing is so wonderful though that I want to suspend my disbelief and remain on this fluffy, white cloud forever.

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  19. Reading your writing helps me see my flaws in my relationship. Some may view the words as fantasy. I view the words as pure romance. Seeing and feeling your words helps refocus and add better BALANCE to my relationship. I couldn’t ask for a better gift. Thank you for all you do.

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  21. My husband had a car accident a month before we knew we were expecting. And he had it real bad. So when he was still unconscious when I visited him, I whispered that I might be pregnant. So he better live.
    Thank heavens, he did!
    He loves to say romantic things but I’m more of a doer. I find out what really thrills him and do it for him. Like having his favorite coffee delivered to his place of work so he doesn’t have to go out – three to four times a day to get his java dose.

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            1. I understand. I have never had a full recovery from my fall down a flight of stairs. I suffer the exact same problems. Sadly, you get accustomed to pain, and that is never fun. I hope a little miracle happens and all his pains disappear. Or at least he feels a little relief. Sorry for asking, I do wish you and him all the best.

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    1. Smiling. Thanks for the kind gesture. I appreciate you thinking of me. Very flattered, but I don’t think you noticed this is an award free blog. I am so tied up with the blog, sending out letters to literary agents, and editing my newest novel I really don’t have time to participate. Thanks again, and I hope you understand.

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    1. You said it correctly. Freaking wordpress. There are still so many people you can’t comment on my posts. And plenty of people I can’t comment on either. Thanks for your support. You are a sweetheart. Hey, I meant that in a good way. I’m not very politically correct.

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  29. It is not difficult to see you for the kind of man you are, Andrew. Something tells me you write a lot of yourself in your characters, be it your prose or your poetry. I have noticed you place a great value on being a protector, the soother of nightmares and a loving soul. Thanks for sharing so much of your passion with us, my friend. This story, I believe (and you can correct me if I am wrong), captures the essence of who you are as a husband. Great write 🙂

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