Love Words

V-E-R-I-T-A-B-L-E

I smile as the last tile snaps into place. The computer beeps. My eyes seek out the bottom of the open window. Reassuring text, black on white, greets me.

Lady Scrabble, you amaze me.

I know. A blush creeps up my cheeks and I tilt my head to hide it from the screen.

I want to meet you.

The keys click hastily as I inhale sharply and formulate my response.  We already talked about this, Tile 

Master. I have a boyfriend.

And I have a girlfriend. Meet me anyway.

I can’t.

Think about it?

I close the window without replying. The more he asks, the greater my desire to see him. I know that I shouldn’t spend so much time playing Scrabble online with a stranger, but I will avow my innocence to anyone. We talk about the words and who won, usually me.

Lately, however, he has wanted more. We agreed not to share our real names, but he wants to meet me. We couldn’t call each other Lady Scrabble and Tile Master if we sat across from each other in a coffee shop, could we?

I turn the computer off without shutting it down properly and step away. To distract myself, I step into the kitchen and begin preparing dinner. The sound of my knife hitting the cutting board over and over reminds me of my fingers flying across the keyboard.

I want to meet you. The text floats before my eyes.

“We can’t. We can’t.” As the words echo through the air, I drop the knife to clamp my hands over my mouth.

As the soft aroma of sweet peppers washes over me, keys jingle outside the door. My large eyes turn 

toward the sound. I lower my hands, taking a deep breath to compose myself.  By the time the door swings open, a smile has forced its way across my lips.

“Harold, welcome home.” I almost gush as I dance across the distance between us to plant a kiss on his cheek.

“Hey, sweetie.” He absently kisses my forehead. “What’s for dinner?”

“Stir fry?”

“Sounds good.” He drops his laptop bag on the coffee table and joins me in the kitchen.

My distracted behavior seems to rub off on him. Though we stand in the same room, so close that we brush up against each other, we could be on different planets. The wall between us grows thicker as we sit down to eat. We don’t even bother to make polite conversation.

Finally, Harold looks up from his empty plate and gazes at me so forlornly that I drop my fork. ‘What’s wrong?”

“Matilda…” He pauses. “I don’t know how to tell you this. I don’t want to hurt you…”

“But…” The pressure on my own heart begins to release.

“I think I’m falling in love with someone else.” He bites his lip, waiting for my reaction.

As a smile softly plays across my lips, confusion fills his eyes, so I rush to explain. “I’ve been feeling the same way.”

“Really? I’ve been wanting to tell you for weeks, but…”

“You didn’t want to hurt me?”

“Yes. It’s not just that. I haven’t actually met her. It seems so foolish, but she makes me laugh and she’s so smart.”

Something tickles inside my brain. “So how do you know her?”

“We met online. I didn’t…”

I don’t let him finish, interrupting in a whisper. “Tile Master?”

“What did you say?” The distance between us melts away as he stands up and takes tentative steps toward me.

“Tile Master?” I repeat with more surety.

“Lady Scrabble?” He takes my hand in his.

Tears pour down my cheeks. I shake my head. He pulls me closer, hugging me so close that I can hear his heart hammering.

“I should have known. We really are fools.”

His heartbeat slows to a normal rhythm as we begin to laugh.