"Once Upon Love" (A Modern "Cyrano de Bergerac" story)

5: The Flight Of Icarus

That night was every bit as romantic as Madi hoped it would be. They strolled through Washington Park and circled the lake, enjoying the sunset and each other's company. Chris was proud that he actually managed a bit of small talk as they walked. He began gently and secretly steering her toward the restaurant he'd selected for dinner that night. As they strolled under the stars across the path adjacent to the restaurant, Chris pulled Madi close.

"Are you hungry?" he asked.

Madi grinned at him. "I'm starving."

Chris gestured at the restaurant, "This looks like a good place."

The whole place felt like a portal into the Old Country: checkered tablecloths, beautiful pewter candlesticks with tall white candles, Italian street scenes painted on the walls, and a cook somewhere back in the kitchen who sang his native songs while he worked. Madi was elated.

Chris led her to a table near the front of the eatery, where Madi could peek into the kitchen from where she sat. The waiter brought them a basket with a fresh loaf of sourdough bread and a small dish of olive oil and roasted garlic. That was only the appetizer.

The conversation nearly rivaled the meal in excellent taste, as the two friends chatted over their plates of lasagna and manicotti. After the meal, they ordered a piece of tiramisu to share. Madi took only a few bites before she put down her fork and took Chris' hand.

"All right," she said, "now's your time, Chris."

Chris looked deep into those stunning blue-gray eyes, and to his horror, he felt his mind going blank. He tried to stall as he fought to remember everything he wanted to say, or at least some of it!

"Time for what?" he stammered.

Madi rolled her eyes at his reluctance, "For weeks now I've been feasting my eyes on your letters, notes, and poems. Now I'm asking you to provide my ears with such a feast. I want you to tell me—barring nothing—all of your feelings for me."

Chris put down his fork. This should be easy, right? he thought to himself as he took a deep breath. Just gaze into her eyes, and speak from my heart. Forthwith, he looked deep into Madison Robbins' eyes.

He didn't have a clue what to say.

"Madi ... I love you."

She smiled, emboldening him, "Yeah, and—?"

"Deeply, truly, and tenderly, I love you!"

Madi sighed as her patience waned. "I gathered that, but tell me, Chris! Don't hold back! What kind of love is it?"

"The love...er, wherewith I love you—"

"A good start!"

"—only... wants to be loved... in return?"

Madi wilted under the obvious question mark in Chris' voice. "What's your deal, man?" she chastised him, "I come here to listen to the romantic wit I've been as familiar with as its owner, straight from the horse's mouth, and I find a donkey instead!"

She grabbed her purse and stormed out of the restaurant.

Chris ran after her, "Madi!" he cried wildly, "I really and truly do love—"

She whirled upon him, her sky-like eyes stormy. "You know what? Right now those are the three stupidest words in the English language to me! If you have anything else to say, I am ready to listen, but if not, then I'm done! Now, can you say more?"

Chris was so flustered by her hard barrage that he could not even think straight, much less talk so! "Madi," he begged, "please..."

She turned away with a sigh, "That's it, I'm done."