He never considered himself the artistic type, but for her, he would learn. It was Valentine's day and he wanted to make her something special; something she'd always remember. He thought about it for the longest time and then the perfect idea came to him. He'd make her a homemade Valentine's day card with her favorite poem on it. How she loved Yeats and how he loved to read poetry to her.
He worked for hours, typing up the poem onto parchment paper, cutting it out with scissors and carefully gluing it onto a sheet of thick red paper. He folded it into a card and drew roses and hearts along its edges. Then he used white lace to decorate it. After he was finished, he looked at his handwork and chuckled. "Not so bad if I do say so myself," he quipped.
He wrote a message inside, pouring out the words he held so deep in his heart. He spared not the tiniest bit of emotion. He never did with her. He wanted her to have it all - every single scrap of his devotion. He had a smile on his face as he completed the message, but then he just stared at the words he had written. He refused to sign it. He couldn't bring himself to perpetuate the lie he feared may someday separate him from his one true love.
As he folded the card in his hands, his smile quickly faded. He placed a tender kiss against the delicate paper. "I am sorry, Katerina," he said. "Forgive me."
When she woke up the morning of Valentine's day, she found the space beside her where he always slept was now bare. She called out for him and there he was - holding the precious card in his hands. Her heart fluttered as she realized his eyes were luminous and his large hands were trembling.
"For you, my dearest love, my precious Katerina," he said as he crawled into the bed next to her and showed her the card he had made - just for her.
Her blue eyes lit up with happiness when she saw the card he had made for her. It meant so much more than a store-bought card ever could. This one, the one he had made, was priceless.
"Ohhh James," she whispered as her eyes filled up with tears.
As she looked at the card, he began to recite the poem as he had so many times before. It happened to be her favorite.
"When you are old and grey and full of sleep... and nodding by the fire... take down this book... and slowly read...and dream of the soft look your eyes had once... and of their shadows deep..." he said in his beautiful voice.
After he finished reciting the poem, a single tear rushed down her cheek. "Ohhh how I love Yeats."
"I know you do."
Their gazes met and held. Blue eyes stared into eyes of hazel/green. Her heart skipped a beat as she was so much in love.
"This...,. this... I never expected this," she said as her voice broke.
"I wrote a note inside," he said in a soft murmur. "Please read it."
She carefully opened the card to reveal his neatly written words. How they had flowed from his pen.
My Dearest Love, You have my heart and you always will. I cannot express in mere words how deeply I love you. No matter where our future may take us, always remember that I will love you today, tomorrow and for always. If I ever lost you, I cannot even fathom the pain. Always remember this perfect moment and how you've entrenched my heart and my soul.
"Ohhh James," she said, feeling completely breathless and bereft of words.
"It's an amazing gift. I love it so much, just as I love you. But you-you didn't sign it."
Lawrence heart broke anew at her words. Very slowly, he shook his head. "I didn't need to sign it. My love is true."
She wrapped her arms around him, hugging him as tight as she possibly could. "I love you so much."
He melted when her lips met his in a heated kiss. It was such a sweet blend of precious love and so much desire. For a moment he forgot all the lies he had told her. He forgot about all of the betrayal. And for just a moment, he had everything he ever needed right there in his arms.
The End