Nancy's Image

What seemed like an oddity the first time it happened, quickly became routine for David. Coming home every day to a warm, freshly prepared meal and the doting affection of his daughter, how could something like that be wrong? Even during those hugs that seemed to last just a bit too long, David was sure that Samantha had just picked up on his stress and was helping him feel better.

A week into their new rhythm David had begun to forget that anything had changed. He liked the 'new normal'. And even though Samantha didn't seem to be spending as much time on her studies, he was pretty sure she liked it too. Besides, it wasn't really up to him to tell his daughter how to live her life. She was an adult, after all, and could make her own choices.

So, yes, his life had improved, despite the fact that his car still damaged, but he was still lonely. Samantha was doing so much to make him feel better, but it wasn't her job, and he wasn't her responsibility. Eventually he would have to move on with his life.

A deep sigh slipped from his lungs as he sat back on the couch, the cold beer Samantha had handed him when he got home still in his hand. From where he sat, he could hear her working away, setting the table, putting the finishing touches on the meal, but he still felt alone. The hole in his heart left by Nancy's **** was sometimes too much to handle. She had been so kind, so giving, and so beautiful. It was true that memory makes a poor witness, that the image that he held onto of Nancy was probably not the image closest to the truth anymore, but he didn't care. She had been so beautiful. So graceful. So feminine. He closed his eyes and pictured her, her smiling face done up perfectly, ruby lips, braided hair, dressed so stylishly, so attractively.

David had always felt loved by Nancy, not just because of who she was, but by how she made him feel. Yes, she was out of his league, but she took care of herself, dressed herself, as if she always wanted to be attractive to him. She carefully curated an image for herself in her style, her clothes, her makeup, just so that David would only have eyes for her.

For the briefest of moments something happened in David's brain, just like it had days before. Again it was like an itch, or a tic, or a flash. But, once again, it vanished as quickly as it had begun.