Ten-Minute Writing - February 6, 2019

"There's a guy in my office. He likes to talk about his wife. Unsolicited. Not in a bad way, mind you, he just likes to talk about how, years ago, they used to work side by side. No romantic feelings going either way. She kind of had a boyfriend. He was interested in a career, and some guy toys -- his Hummer, etcetera. So they worked some late nights together. A few early mornings finishing projects. Then slowly they started to notice each other. Went on a lunch date. Caught a baseball game. Movies. Eventually, her boyfriend disappears; the guy cares less and less about his car. Then the interest grows, until, finally, they start dating, and, a year later, get married." The man straightened up. "Not me, I knew right away with the woman I fell in love with. Like Michael Corleone when he's sent off to Sicily and he first sees the young woman, Apollonia, who would be his wife. He was hit with a thunderbolt."
"And you were hit with a thunderbolt?" the woman asked.
"Knocked me right off me feet," he said. "Sent my whole world in a spin."
"A spin?"
"Knew in an instant, she'd be it for me," the man said. "I wouldn't have to look at another woman."
"She's lucky."
"Yes," he said. "I was, too."
"Did she feel the same way about you?" the woman asked. "The thunderbolt and everything?"
"You'd have to ask her," he said. "But I think she did."
"Really?"
"She was mine--I think she knew deep down immediately. But she held out a bit, just to protect herself. But she knew... She knew I was smitten. She knew she was smitten."
"Sounds like it was a love story."
"Still is."
"Even now?"
"More so."