Unrequited Love

First, I'd like to apologize for the unexpected gap in posts. January has been busier than I thought it would be, because of after-Christmas contacts. But things looks like they're starting to slow down a little, and I'll try to get back on top of things here.

The title of today's prompt is "Unrequited Love," and the theme for today is "Treat." These two look like they can create some good contrast, and I look forward to seeing what conflict arises out of this. If you come up with something entirely different, I look forward to seeing it!
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The wind whispered through the grass and stirred the leaves overhead, carrying the ripe scent of wilting flowers and pumpkin spice. Steam rose from the latte cooling beside her elbow, so close she might have knocked it over if she shifted her weight to that side. The porch was wide, clean, and empty except for us. She was lying on her stomach on the rough wood, peering intently through the eyepiece of her camera.


The temptation was there, as always - the temptation to do something fantastic, to make her realize that her being happy was the best thing in the whole world, beside her being mine. But inspiration had completely failed on that point. Repeatedly. Every attempt was met with a smile and a laugh, but the understanding and acceptance was never quite there.

Suddenly, the young woman sighed and lifted her head, lowering the camera as she looked out over the lawn. "This place seems to empty," she commented sadly. Rolling over, she sat up, her face full of a sort of detached sorrow. "Why don't you live here? You already bought the place, and renovations are nearly done."

Her gaze was bright and inquisitive. It was easy to remember her as she had been when she walked through the door on that first day, carrying a notebook and an assignment from the magazine she worked for. An interview. That was how it had started.

"Because it's empty. I've no one to live in it with me." The words hung in the air, pregnant with meaning, just waiting for the flash of understanding to light them from within. If she saw the bait, she didn't take it. She shook her head, tousled blond hair falling into her face.

"You should really get yourself a girlfriend." She paused thoughtfully, then shook her head again. "No, you don't need a girlfriend. You need a wife. When was the last time you went on a date?"

It wasn't exactly what the bait would have led to, but it was close. Better close than nothing at all. "A couple years ago, I guess. I've been waiting for the right girl to come along." The power of looks alone to communicate unspoken thoughts has been lauded in too many novels to name. In this instance, however, it wasn't enough.

"Well, waiting isn't really cutting the cheese, Mr. Blithe." Her tone was teasing, and she picked up the cooling latte to take a sip. "Why don't you sign up on one of those dating sites? With a profile like yours, I'm sure you'll find someone." She grinned, lifted her camera, and snapped a picture. Understanding passed on, wafting away on the pumpkin spice breeze.

"Maybe some other time. Right now, I'm happy being with you."