SHADOWS OF FIRST LOVE

Years ago, he would not have believed that he would be this man, the same one everyone had envied for finding his “perfect match”, now caressing the nude body of his wife's sister.

And what sin would he be accused of committing, if someone were to stand there and point accusing fingers at him? Adultery? Fornication? 

No. Love. His sin was love, a truth that had taken years of self-loathing to unveil. Also not loving Melinda as he should have. He was her husband, and he should have loved her.

He thought he did when they first met as undergraduate students in college. Melinda was the type of girl he liked—the one that was a whole load of surprises. 

One moment she was quiet as a mouse, seemingly terrified by even the mention of conflict, withdrawing into herself with a fragility that stirred his protective instincts.

 Another moment, she was downing brandy without a flinch, her eyes sparkling with a daring he found utterly captivating. Yes, he liked her. She was beautiful, smart, and challenged him in ways his other high school sweethearts never had. 

The memories of Melinda from high school felt so distant, almost like a separate life. The truth was, in high school, he had loved her, but not in the way he understood love now. 

He had loved her undoubtedly, it was glaring that they were meant for each other. The romantic affections that blossomed as time went on, were built on admiration and comfort.

The fierce, soul-deep connection he secretly yearned for.

Unlike the other girls that let their lustful stares capture his entirety, Melinda did not bat an eyelid, never. Or so it seemed – a major reason why he was particularly driven towards her.

The repulsive effects her aura had to his flirtatious escapades, had him longing for more of her.

Then there was her enticing body physique. Melinda never flaunted it; in fact, she usually hid it beneath layers of practical, comfortable clothing. 

Yet, Ethan, with his thirsty eyes for form and movement, noticed. 

He saw the lean strength in her legs when she walked, the elegant line of her neck during the rare times she let her hair move in endearing independence and the subtle curve of her hips that hinted at a graceful femininity beneath the baggy hoodies.

 Truth be told, it was almost about sexuality, but also a natural, unadorned beauty that was deeply appealing, precisely because it was so unpretentious, was one he could not resist.

 The fact that she tried so hard at her commitment to modesty made him yearn for more of her.

He remembered a specific moment during a joint study session in the library: Melinda reached for a book on a high shelf, her oversized sweater pulling out, outlining the slender curve of her back and the subtle flex of her muscles.

 It was a fleeting glimpse, yet it etched itself into his memory, a quiet revelation of the alluring form she possessed, completely oblivious to its captivating effect.

And her charisma was undeniable, though it wasn't the boisterous kind that demanded attention. 

Melinda possessed a quiet, intellectual magnetism. When she spoke, particularly about a topic she loved, her voice would gain a confident clarity that could draw even the coldest of hearts. 

 Her eyes would light up, and her gestures would become animated, pulling listeners into her world of ideas. 

Ethan found himself gravitating towards those moments, not because he was keen about what chose to happen in class but for obvious reasons.

He'd often watch from a distance as she held court with a small group of friends, her laughter bubbling up, her expressions unintentionally seductive as he recognized the rare quality of her presence. 

She didn't seek attention but got it either way that unauthenticated the loyalty of his own friends.

What truly struck Ethan in those high school years, and what he later understood was a fundamental aspect of their relationship, was how her unique beauty collided with his own widely acknowledged handsome features. 

He was accustomed to reflections that screamed perfection, features meticulously praised by others. 

But Melinda's beauty was different. It wasn't the kind that demanded immediate attention; it was the kind that unfurled slowly, revealing layers of depth and understated allure.

 Her eyes, magnified by their hue, held a quiet intensity that was far more intriguing than any sparkling, empty gaze. 

The faint dusting of red skin across her cheeks, her genuine smile that transformed her entire face, the way a stray lock of hair would fall across her brow when she was deep in thought – these were the details Ethan found himself noticing, the subtle perfections that resonated with a quiet harmony against his own more striking, conventional handsomeness.

 His chiseled jawline and piercing brown eyes, often the subject of adoring sighs, found an unexpected complement in the soft intelligence of her smile. 

His athletic build, always on display, hoped to soften and relax in her thoughts. Perhaps she already developed a soft spot for him; any girl in her shoes would.

Their pairing, initially perceived as an odd combination by others, became a testament to a deeper kind of attraction – That one memorable prom night.

The highly anticipated Annual Northwood High Winter Gala had just wound down, leaving behind a lingering scent of pine, punch, and teenage anticipation. 

Most of the couples had already dispersed, heading to after-parties or quiet drives home. 

Ethan, however, had a slight detour all planned. He had finally convinced Melinda to let him drive her home.

His stated reason was to enjoy the unseasonably mild December night air, but his heart held a deeper purpose.

Melinda's emerald green dress shimmering faintly in the faint glow of distant streetlights, pulled her shawl tighter, complementing the glitter in her eyes.

Ethan stopped by the central fountain, its water long since drained for the winter. He turned to face her, the soft light catching the sharp lines of his jaw, making his brown eyes seem even more intense. 

The usual effortless confidence that clung to him like a second skin seemed to waver slightly. A nervous tremor went through him, a subtle but palpable shift in his usually composed demeanor.

It wasn't merely about the event itself, but about sharing that particular night with her.

 He wasn't asking her to be a trophy date; he was asking her, Melinda, the girl who preferred calculus to crowds, to share a significant milestone with him because he valued her company, coupled with other obvious factors.

A slow, genuine smile spread across her face, lighting up her features. He quietly kissed her, his lips a soft promise exchanged under the watchful, shimmering stars.

Maybe she would have been perfect. She was, until that cursed day he visited her family for the first time.

That was where it all began.