Marriage & Life Partners · Relationships & Dating

My Not-So-Funny Valentine

“Ah. Stacia, this is my graduate assistant Julie,” he said by way of explanation.

A threesome? It was out of the question. His student blushed, ducked her blonde head and crept out of the apartment without making eye contact.

“What was she doing here?” I asked.

Ooo la la, Xavier sighed. “You’re so suspicious.”

“Just tell me. What was your graduate assistant doing in your bedroom?” I said.

“If you must know, she was helping me make Valentines,” he said. “She’s very good with computers.” Right. Twenty-two-year olds with perky breasts and long, honey-colored hair are good at a lot of things. Xavier’s computer was in his bedroom. So was his futon mattress. My emotions were riding a mechanical bull.

“Take off your coat,” he said. Suddenly, my lap dancer attire seemed like a horrible mistake.

“No. I’ll keep it on. I’m cold,” I said, clutching my coat around me. Xavier took my hand and led me into his bedroom. It was part of our routine, a silent pas de deux. He would lead me into his room and my clothes would melt off my body. We’d make love like weasels, then he’d order Chinese and we’d discuss Art, Film, and Literature until dawn.  That night, I wasn’t buying it. I saw the pile of Valentines on his desk. There were at least a dozen. All with the same limpid eyes and confession of love.

“You’re sending these to other people?” I asked.

Xavier’s eyes widened. “Bien sur,” he said. “I have many friends.”

“Actually, you have one less,” I said, running out the door. I felt ridiculous and furious as I hailed a taxi. As I stared out the window, it seemed that everyone in New York City was young and in love, rushing off to restaurants, engagement rings, and tiramisu. This was before cell phones, so I didn’t hear Xavier’s whispery messages until I returned to my apartment, shaken and bereft.

“Stacia. I love you,” he said. “Come back.”

Without washing the tears off my face, I rushed back down to the street and jumped in a cab. I needn’t have bothered with the erotic lingerie. It came off too quickly for him to notice. Xavier and I drank Champagne and ate moo shu pork naked in bed. I looked at the clock. It was 2 a.m.  Thank God. Valentine’s Day was over.


More from our Valentine’s Day Series

The Power of Young Love

8210336869_bab7e4a4cd_zBy Judie Rae
Richard’s math class was the hour before mine; we shared the same room as well as the same instructor. One Valentine’s Day I found a note in my locker directing me to look out the window of the math class, where I would find my Valentine gift.

An October Valentine

6877886245_3a0e1f2a15_zBy Sylvia Metzler
I always suspected that Fred’s father thought we were too young and too serious, since we had made plans to marry and depart for Africa as missionaries as soon as we grew up.

Valentine’s Day: An Intense and Tender Connection

Grace and Richie at a local dance.By Grace Graupe-Pillard
First love is the most magical, deliciously exquisite, and seductive period of one’s life, when the world actually becomes luminous without the need of the sun or the moon.


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  • Mickey February 14, 2016 at 12:22 pm

    Oh, yeah. Excellent. Thank you, Stacia. Thank you so much.

  • Alana February 14, 2016 at 11:21 am

    Probably the most epic Valentine’s Day story I’ve ever read. I wonder what happened to Xavier as he grew older. That would be a great story, too.