Princesa

I smiled. "Amber, I'm a lineman and I'm in great shape. Some pasta's not going to kill me. Lean isn't what I'm going for."

"Samuel Santori, I want you around for a long, long time. If I'm cooking, you're eating healthy. Grab some plates and set the table."

All of this was hitting me hard and I wasn't sure why. I stood staring at her. She had her hair in a ponytail and was wearing a tee-shirt and yoga pants. Surprised that I was tearing up, I stepped up behind Amber and put my arms around her. We were in our apartment and she wanted me around for a long time. Checking to see that the stovetop and oven were turned off, I started kissing her neck and moved up to her ear.

She squirmed as I whispered after nibbling on her earlobe. "You know, cacciatore is one of those dishes that gets better the longer it sits."

Amber pushed back into me, her butt into my thigh. "Spaghetti doesn't."

Picking her up, I headed towards the bedroom, thankful we had set up and made the bed before I left. "It's zucchini, it'll stay al dente."

I gently placed her on the bed. Everything with Amber was gentle and she occasionally grew frustrated. I don't think she knew the sort of damage I could do if I wasn't careful, but we'd find a happy medium. As I looked down at her and helped her pull off the tee-shirt, she looked up and saw the tears waiting to fall. Once I lost Haley, I never thought I would have this. I was... content. That seemed like such a weak word for what I was feeling.

Placing both hands on the sides of my face, she pulled me towards her, love in her eyes. "Oh, Sam, Honey..."

We kissed, and my hands roamed her body, grateful for her foresight in leaving off the bra. After a few minutes she started shimmying off the yoga pants. I was happy to help. Her panties were very damp as I pulled them from her body, inhaling her scent as they slipped down her legs.

I took my time kissing her from her calf to her so-wet center. She grabbed my head, trying to force me in deeper as my tongue licked, darted and teased. Her moaning grew louder, and I moved away from her cauldron and the honey she was generating. I kissed my way to her navel and back up to her neck, chin and full lips.

My cock slid along her opening as we kissed. Sometimes smoothly, sometimes poking and prodding as I shifted my hips. She pulled her head back to speak. "Sam... Sam... slow later. I need you now. Don't... don't go slow, don't go gentle."

Taking her at her word, I effortlessly flipped Amber onto her belly. Reaching forward, I grabbed two of the pillows and slipped them under her hips. Getting back between her legs, I moved forward and lubricated my cock with her juices. As wet as she was, it was still a tight entry that must have brought her a mixture of discomfort and pleasure. After a few minutes she grew louder, moaning then yelling her pleasure.

I was much more forceful than usual. Although I loved Amber, this was about straight animal fucking. She thrust back at me, her head tilted to the side as I lifted her by the hips and pulled her to meet my every push, every ramming into her steaming tight velvet core.

Amber trembled as she reached her pinnacle the first time, and nearly convulsed as she came a second time. When I finally erupted into her, we were awash in each other's sweat and fluids. We lay there, recovering, and I held her closely. Eventually, I picked her up and carried her to the shower. It was a little cramped, but sometimes that works. I washed her gently and carried her back to the bed.

She had some trouble walking and I had some residual guilt. Grabbing the plates and some drinks, I brought dinner into the bedroom. The plates and some of the food eventually wound up on the floor when we slowly, gently, made love.

The next morning, I found a plate of homemade cookies outside the door.

Stopped by and you sounded busy. Knocked a few times. I was young and in love once. Enjoy it and each other! Amanda Behlsen, Apt 303

Well, that was fucking embarrassing. Good cookies, though.

Being with Amber removed the pain from my heart and sapped out the bitterness and anger. Thankfully, it wasn't the anger that fueled my success on the gridiron. The sense of loss from Haley disappearing was always with me, but love replaced much of the rest. My parents loved Amber almost as much as I did, and her parents seemed to like me but were afraid of the prospects of me getting an NFL contract.

My senior year was spent concentrating on my last college season, getting my degree, prepping for the Combine and spending as much time as possible with Amber. I was twenty-two and she was twenty-three. I was narrowing down my choices of agents and she was knee deep in med school.

Everything depended on the workouts, private and public, but I was assured by most experts that I would be picked in the first or second round. Both of us were incredibly busy and the pressure was getting to us. I flew home to see my parents and hit them up for a loan. I was reticent and embarrassed until they laughed and told me that they had saved up for my college my entire life and I never had to use a penny of it.

I flew back, made some stops and returned to the apartment. Amber was making dinner when I walked through the door. When I saw her, I realized that we hadn't spoken in two days.

She turned when I dropped my bags, startled by the noise. I guess I can move quietly for a big guy. She raced over, and I picked her up. My eyes closed as I felt her body against mine. Emotions flooded through me. She was companionship, love, sex, and home. Amber was all things to me.

I set her down and realized that waiting served no purpose. I reached into my pocket as I got on one knee.

"Amber, I know that we're both burning the candles at both ends."

She stood before me, mouth wide, eyes glistening. I pulled out the box and opened it.

"And this might not be the right time, but..."

She launched herself into me. "Yes, yes, Sam. Yes. I love you. I love you so much."

I stood, picking her up and held her closely as we both cried.

My mother flew to Columbus and spent time with Amber working on wedding plans. I attended the Combine where I made a fool of myself at the vertical jump but set records at the bench press and scored a forty-eight on the wonderlic.

My private work-outs went well, as did the interviews. I wound up being drafted seventh and went to the Dolphins. I was there for four great years, making the Pro Bowl three times. I was traded to the Cleveland Browns, so Amber and I moved back to Ohio. Those were eight of the best years of my life.

My parents moved to be near us when our son was born. I grew maudlin at times, reading him the adventures of Peter Pan and Tinkerbell, and Winnie the Pooh and Christopher Robin. I thought of Haley, our own 100 Acre Wood and the adventures of our childhood.

My body told me that twelve years in the NFL was enough, and it was time to get out. We were set for life and could have easily lived off Amber's income as a pediatric surgeon. We were generous with both sets of parents and they had no financial burdens. I was in my late thirties and needed to figure out what to do with the rest of my life.

Nicky Tremaine was a retired Extreme Sports athlete who lived in Ohio. He had a charity that worked with athletes and supported homeless veterans. That was something I could get behind, so I reached out. Soon, I was spending twenty hours a week working with the charity while being a full-time house dad.

Mom watched Sam Jr. when Amber and I drove to Dayton to visit the VA there. We checked into our hotel and I signed a few autographs for employees who recognized my name. It was too late for lunch and too early for dinner, so we went to a nearby Starbucks for coffee and a muffin. Sitting down, we discussed the plans for the next day. We'd do some meet and greets with staff and then spend the day talking to as many veterans as possible, thanking them for their service and trying to get a gauge on what we could do to improve things at the grass roots level.

Amber kicked me lightly under the table. Eyebrows narrowed in minor irritation, I looked up from my coffee. She kept nodding her head slightly to the right and moving her eyes in that direction. I glanced over. Two tables away sat a man reading what must have been the current issue of something calledBusty Librarians Monthly.

His phone started playing "Last Train to Clarksville". He put down his magazine and picked up the phone. "Go for Jack." He listened. "Uh huh. Got about another 4 or 5 thousand words. Brilliant stuff." More listening. "You got it. Talk to you soon." He hung up and took a swig from his coffee.

Trying not to smile too obviously, Amber and I looked at each other. Starbucks kept getting weirder.

We got back to discussing our plans for the next day and how we could import anything innovative we saw in facilities near us.

I stopped speaking for what seemed to be forever and finally noticed Amber looking up at me.

Her voice sounded concerned, but I was distracted. "Honey, what's the matter? What's wrong?"

Pushing aside my Starbucks cup and ignoring the chattering customers near us, Amber took my hand in both of hers, her thumb stroking my knuckles. I was trying to hold back the tears as I looked over her shoulder.

"Honey? Sam?"

My smile was tremulous at best as I stared at the back of the woman with the long black tresses and the slight limp.

Swallowing a few times before trying to speak, I told her. "She's here."

"Who's here, honey? What are... No! She's here?"

Not able to speak, I nodded my head.

Haley made her purchase and turned around. I stood. It's sort of hard to miss me. She dropped her drink and purse and her hands flew to her mouth. She started crying.

"Sam?"

She still had that adorable lilt to her voice.

"Hello, Princesa. Here for a tea party?"

Haley and I were the dreams of children, full of certitude, happiness, and simplicity, but rough and indistinct around the edges. Our love was there, and it always would be, but it was a love of youth. Amber and I had depth, passion, and understanding. To paraphrase Mark Twain, the difference between my love for Amber and my love for Haley was the difference between lightning and a lightning bug.

My wife stepped away from the table, not interfering as Haley and I stared at each other. Haley stepped forward hesitantly and I stood there, uncomfortable, not knowing how to act after more than twenty years apart.

Amber spoke up. "Hug her, you idiot!"

My walls tumbled down, and I stepped around the table. I pulled Haley into me in a giant hug. She shook, sobbing, and I held her. She felt... right. She fit. I looked over to Amber, who was wiping away her own tears. Eventually Haley pushed herself back, looked up at me smiling.

"I can't believe you're here!" She stepped in, hugged me again and stepped back. She tried to blot her eyes. "I must look horrible. Raccoon eyes."

Again, my wife knew what to say. "No, you're as beautiful as he's always said."

"I'm sorry. Haley, this is my wife Amber."

"I'm so sorry, I ruined your husband's shirt." The women had mostly stopped crying and we laughed.

I pulled it out a bit and took a look. "I'll throw it in the dryer. Tears don't stain."

"Sam, Amber, can you sit? Can we talk? I just need to use the lady's room."

Amber stepped to her side. "I'll join you." She nodded her head towards the floor with Haley's coffee cup and purse. I got the hint.

When they came back, looking much refreshed, I had the purse, coffee refills and three bottled iced teas on the table. Amber picked up the bottle and looked at me curiously.

"In honor of Mrs. Sullivan. She hosted the tea parties that Princesa dragged me to when we were kids."

"Hah! I would have to chase you and your giant legs to get there before you ate all the Oreos. Amber, you are... you're just stunning. I always knew my... that Sam would find a beautiful woman and the two of you would conquer the world. Tell me about your lives. I know you played for the Browns, Sam. Amber, what do you do?"

"I'm a pediatric surgeon at the Wexner Center at Ohio State. I'm still new there, we moved back to Columbus after Sam left the Browns. What about you, Haley? What do you do?"

"I teach comparative literature. I'll be starting at a new university after Thanksgiving. Well, I'll be moving there and starting in the winter sessions. Sheesh, even that's not correct. I guess it's summer sessions there. I'll be teaching in Wellington, New Zealand."

Leaning back in my chair, I deflated. "New Zealand? That's, it's just so far away."

"Yes, it is, but I needed a break. Something completely new. The pay is great, the perks are fantastic and it's a way to start over."

Putting my coffee down, I looked at Haley. "Can you, I mean, Haley, it killed me when you disappeared and now you want to run away again. Can you tell us what happened all those years ago?"

She looked around at the constant traffic and customers as they purchased, sat, left, drank and moved. Starbucks wasn't conducive to deep conversations.

"This isn't really a great place to discuss it. Do you live around here?"

"No, we live in Columbus."

"Oh, of course, right. Where Amber works. Maybe we could find a nice, quiet restaurant for dinner and I could explain everything there?" She smiled. "Besides, after years of betting on the Browns, you owe me at least one meal."

We exchanged cell phone numbers, sat and talked for a while and promised each other to call with restaurant options. Amber and I went back to the hotel. I wanted to hit their gym and think about what just happened. It was mind blowing and needed a lot of processing. It didn't even occur to me until we got back to our room that I should call Mom and Dad.

"Hey, Dad? You're not going to believe who Amber and I ran into at a Starbucks in Dayton. It was Haley."

"Haley? Are you serious? Little Haley from next door?"

"Yeah, little Haley. Princesa."

"That's, I mean, that's just...wow. How is she doing? Does she have a family? How's her mom?"

"I don't know, Dad. It was all really weird. It was right in the middle of the Starbucks. We're going out to dinner tonight. There'll be more privacy and I'll ask every question I can think of. How's my son? Getting tired of him yet?"

"Not a chance. He is running your mom ragged though. Okay, call me tonight or tomorrow morning. This is crazy, Sam."

"Yeah, that it is. Night, Dad."

Hitting the gym, I listened to songs of my youth, the times when Haley had been in my life. "Spoonman" rushed through the earbuds as I pushed myself on the treadmill. I needed to make some lists. What to ask her, what was important and what wasn't, where I wanted this to go. I learned long ago that I thought better, more logically, when I made lists. It forced mental discipline.

I signed a few more autographs on my way back up to the room. I had done some small-market commercials while playing. They were embarrassing, but lucrative, and fans had long memories. Many of them were for Starbucks. They saw me in a post-game interview saying I was heading there with my wife on the way home and thought that the dichotomy of the semi-trained gorilla (me) and the pediatric surgeon wife (Amber) going to Starbucks after a game had a unique appeal.

Amber was in one of them, it felt like I was in countless. They sponsored a number of the veterans' events I was involved in with Nicky Tremain's organization. We made it a point to stop at one whenever we could. It was 'our thing' and Amber was into romantic traditions. She was now the only employed spouse, so I wasn't going to argue.

Soaked with sweat and needing a shower, I tried to be friendly while keeping a distance.

Amber was reading the new Journal of Pediatrics when I got into the room. She carefully kissed my cheek, avoiding the rest of me.

"C'mon, honey. Give me a big hug!"

"Ahhh! Get away from me, you sweaty beast. Go take a shower. I'll call downstairs and ask about restaurants. Italian good?"

We got a recommendation for a good, well-reviewed Italian place, then called Haley and arranged to meet at 7:00. I spent the intervening time working on lists and organizing my thoughts. I'd look back at the paper every once in a while and realize how much time had slipped by. I couldn't concentrate. It was Haley. She was back.

Driving, I took Amber's hand in mine. She looked over at me and then back at the traffic.

"She's really beautiful. I can see why you were so... I don't know, why she had such a hold on you."

I squeezed her hand. "Honey, you know that she's my past, right? I thought that she was my world, but I didn't know what that actually meant until I met you. She's a memory and you're, well, you're everything, Amber."

She turned and smiled. "I know, Sam. I know who we are. We're good. She really is striking, that's all. Her hair... I don't know, I'm being silly." She sounded wistful, maybe regretful.

"Okay. Love you."

She squeezed my hand back.

Haley was waiting for us by the hostess stand, clearly trying to deflect the attentions of a wannabe Lothario. I walked in a few minutes after Amber, who I dropped off at the door before parking the car. He had his hand on my wife's shoulder as he tried to insert his body between hers and Haley's. Probably some alpha-male bullshit about cutting her off from the herd.

Amber's look of amusement was turning into anger as she looked at his hand. He was dressed in a nice suit and had his greying hair slicked back with too much gel. He was fairly tall, about 6'2, and didn't seem to mind using his height to loom over my wife in an attempt to assert dominance. Cool. As long as he established precedent, I obviously had free reign.

Approaching from the side, I walked up really close and stood there in his personal space. Lips narrowing, anger clear, he turned to me and had to look up. And up.

He found his voice. "You mind, pal?"

"No, not at all. Thanks for asking." I leaned in.

Amber was trying to hold back her amusement. "I'm sorry, have you met my husband and Haley's boyfriend? Sam, this is... I'm sorry, neither of us were interested enough to ask your name earlier. Who are you?"

"Ummm, confused and going back to my drink, that's who I am." I thought I heard him mumble "freaks" as he headed towards the bar.

Amber laughed while Haley blushed and looked mortified. The hostess returned to show us to our table.

We talked about the traffic, the restaurant and what looked good on the menu as we relaxed and became comfortable with one another. It was the strangest thing. She was sitting right there. One minute I was uncomfortable and felt awkward and the next it was like those twenty years had never passed.

Everything was served family style, and after the caprese salad and stuffed zucchini flower appetizers arrived, I finally started asking what I needed to know.

"Haley, what the hell happened."

She looked down at her plate and her voice grew soft. "My father. My father happened. You... you remember the stories, right? The big house, the maids, the horses. I was the little princess. It was all true. My father was a wealthy, powerful man. He was also a killer."

She paused to take a drink from her glass of water.

"He was one of the top men in a Colombian cartel. My mother was his 'American wife'. He had a whole other family we didn't know about back in Colombia. She refuses to talk about it, but I've managed to get bits and pieces over the years. After being approached, Mom decided to turn States Evidence. She never did anything wrong, but they wanted what she could tell them and had no compunctions about threatening her with every criminal charge they could think of, as well as prison time, in order to get it.