Dear Diary

My name is Bethany Gardner and I am 55 years old. Exactly two months ago, my husband James died. We were married for 25 years and even though the worst days have passed, I still feel empty. I try to find solace in things I once enjoyed, like sitting in my beautiful big garden with a glass of white wine, reading his favourite books or spending time with my son, but nothing works. I have never felt so lonely. I feel so...

"Hey Ms Gardner," a familiar voice calls from behind. 

Peter.

"Peter! What brings you here?" 

He flashes his kind, boyish smile and stands beside me, his eyes following my gaze, which is on a bumblebee circling my yellow rose bush. I like Peter. He has been my son Jack's best friend for many years and ever since Jack's father died, Peter has visited us almost everyday. He is a wonderful young man.

"I had some time on my hands Ms. Gardner. I know Jack hasn't been home a lot since...you know. So I figured I'd give you company."

"That's awfully kind of you, Peter."

His mouth curls up at one end in that sweet grin and my stomach flutters. The truth is, I enjoy Peter's company more than ever because he resembles my sweet husband when he was twenty-years-old. He had that same kind smile, those sweet blue eyes and his hair flopped over his forehead with such delicacy. James was a fragile man too, with a slender frame and a beautiful jaw structure. I remember in college, I would trace my fingers along his jawline in awe of the sharpness of it. Peter has the same jawline and I've felt a pang every time I've seen him since my husband died.

"Are you okay?" Peter asks, and I realise I've been staring at him whilst completely lost in my thoughts.

"I am. I just...I miss James. You remind me of him a little."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Peter turns to face me, his eyes now full of sadness. I've noticed that he has been looking at me with that same sadness for a few days now.

"Are you alright, my dear?" I ask, concerned to see him so upset.

"It's just...seeing you like this. It's so unpleasant. I wish I could bring him back. I wish there was a way I could... take your pain away. Even just for a moment."

"Oh Peter!" I gasp, completely taken aback by his words.

I always knew Peter was a sensitive boy. His mother and father fought a lot as he was growing up and he would come over to spend time with James and I. He told us once that we gave him a feeling of home.

"Ms Gardner. Do I really remind you of him? Of James?"

I sigh. "Yes."

"What is it about me that reminds you of him?"

I smile. "Oh Peter, everything. Just everything. James was the kindest man I had ever known. He always knew what to say in moments of darkness, and he always knew what I needed before I had to ask. He understood me. He loved me fiercely. I imagine you'd be a lot like that with your wife one day."

"You mean that?" Peter asks, his eyes hopeful.

I raise my hand to his warm, rosy cheek. "Oh Peter. I feel quite sad that you might not believe it."

He raises his hand and places it over mine on his cheek. "Ms Gardner. You give me hope. You have always given me hope. I believe everything you say." He smiles. "It makes me happy to know that I remind you of your husband. I wish I could bring him back for you, even just for a while, just to see happiness in your eyes again. You're so lovely -- you don't deserve to be sad."

Without warning, Peter steps forward and wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me into him. At first I stiffen, my hands up against his chest as he rests his chin on the top of my head. But suddenly, I melt, my arms sliding their way around his shoulders and clasping each other at the back. I rest my cheek against his collarbone and sigh. His body is warm and soft. We stay like that for a few minutes, his grip slowly tightening as the seconds pass.

His kindness makes my eyes well up and I sniff as a tear rolls down the side of my face, trickling down under the front of his t-shirt. He takes a step back, holding me by the waist at arm's length. His face is full of concern.

"Ms Gardner? What happened?"

"I need him, Peter. I need my James." The tears flow freely now.

"Heyyy, shh. It's okay." He says in a soothing voice. "It's going to be alright."

His hands clutch tighter at my waist, rubbing his thumbs over my dress on either side in an attempt to comfort me. And it's working.

"Peter, you look so much like him. I love that you visit as often as you do, but truth be told, my heart can't take it. Every time I see you, I remember James and I feel so lonely that I can't breathe."

"Do you want me to stop coming?"

"I never want you to stop coming. You bring me comfort. I just feel... so empty because I know you'll leave and I'll be alone," I sob.

Peter leans in and kisses my forehead. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. 

"Ms Gardner, what if you could be with him again? With James..."

I open my eyes and my heart flutters at the sight of this handsome man staring at me with such care in his gaze.

"How?"

Peter smiles and leans in again, slowly, as if making sure I don't object. When our noses barely touch and he tilts his head, I close my eyes and sigh as he gently parts my lips with the softness of his own and kisses me. I quietly gasp and sigh as his hands move from my waist down to my hips and he pulls me closer, meshing our slender bodies together. We kiss in a trance for a whole minute before he leans his head back and looks me in the eyes.

"Ms Gardner, I will do anything I can to relieve you from this pain."

"God, Peter, you're so much like him. I remember when we met in college. I knocked on his door in the dorms and he opened it. He had no shirt on and I remember thinking, wow, what a beautiful man. He had such a graceful physique, just like yours." I put my hand on his chest and slowly move it down to land on his stomach. 

Peter grabs hold of his t-shirt at the bottom, lifts it over his head and throws it on the grass in one smooth motion, revealing a slender physique very identical to the one in my memory of James. I lift my hand back up and put it on his warm, bare chest. He smiles at me and I smile back, and I lean in to put my lips to his cheek.

"Do you feel less lonely now, Ms Gardner?" he asks.

"Almost," I whisper against his cheek. "Let's keep trying."

I gently trace my fingers down the front of his body, causing his spine to straighten up, and grab hold of his belt.

"Would you like me to take my jeans off, Ms Gardner?" 

I nuzzle my nose against his cheek. "Please..."

I close my eyes and listen intently at the sound of the metal from his belt buckle clanging as he takes it off effortlessly. I hear the small thud as he throws it onto his t-shirt on the ground, creating a pile. I open my eyes again and my eyes travel down to the front of his jeans where there is a noticeable bump.

"You're enjoying this."

"I am," he whispers. "I want you to be happy."

"Oh Peter," I gasp, as I feel his hands, once on my hips, now both travelling up my stomach and landing on my breasts. He gives them a gentle squeeze and my eyes flutter involuntarily.

"Does it feel nice?"

"It feels very nice, Peter. You're so gentle."

He squeezes them again, a little harder this time, causing a tingle to run from the pit of my stomach down to between my legs.

"Oh..."

"What happened?"

"Nothing, I just... it feels good, Peter."

He groans quietly and continues to massage my breasts over my clothes in a delicious rhythm, my eyes drowsily opening and closing in a longing pleasure.

"Oh Peter...you're so good at this, Sweetheart. You're so generous."

He groans again, his kneading building in pressure. The tingles between my legs get stronger and I feel a wetness down there. I haven't felt like this in years.

"Peter, stop," I gasp.

He stops immediately. "Did I do something wrong?" he asks, his hands still on my breasts.

"No," I say. "I just think we might be going too far."

"I just want to make you happy, Ms Gardner." 

His hands leave my breasts.

"I know, Sweetheart, but you're not James. You're my son's friend and I..."

I gasp at a sudden pleasurable sensation between my legs and look down to see Peter's hand under my dress, poking at my wetness through my underwear.

"You're enjoying this, Ms Gardner. If you want me to stop, I will stop. If you want me to leave, I will leave. But please, think about it. You've been so lonely, and I'm right here. And I care about you. I just want to show you kindness."

He locks his eyes on mine as his hand slips inside my underwear and lands on my clit. I gasp, looking at him in utter shock.

"Do you want me to stop? Do you want to be lonely again, Ms Gardner. Or do you want to be happy? It's your choice. I'm right here."

My head spins at the sensation of his warm fingers resting against my clit, coated in my wetness. I could make him leave right now. I should make him leave, but why do I not want to? Why does it feel so good to be touched by him? Is it because he looks like James? Or is it because I haven't been touched this way for almost ten years? 

"Tell me to stop," Peter says, his fingers slowly starting to rub my clit in a slow, gentle, circular motion.

"Ohh," I gasp, unable to speak.

"Tell me to stop," he repeats, starting to rub faster.

"J-J-James...Ohh...so good."

Peter smiles and wraps his arm around my waist as he works my clit with his other hand, skilfully fingering me. A pleasurable sensation begins to build up deep in the pit of my stomach, growing in intensity as the seconds pass.

TO BE CONTINUED.