She lay quietly in his arms, listening to his deep voice resonate through the chambers of their home, looking out over the quiet nightfall as it descended upon the city.    He had started the story quite by surprise and as he began her mind drifted back to all the times her father had told her stories as a small child.  They too were of faraway places and magical creatures, often bordering on silly, but as she lay in the bed next to him and listened to him weave a completely contrived story she felt the world stop; at that moment she was the most important thing in her father’s life.  It was SO ODD to have those same feelings now.  Here she was, being held by the most important man in her life, hearing him weave a tale of faraway places and fictional circumstances, the world stopped and she KNEW she was the most important thing in his life. 

The tale seemed to revolve around a red box and she felt a sense of excitement come over her as she imagined what the box looked like, what it held inside.  It was such a strange combination of sensations, feeling so childlike and yet so TOTALLY grown.  She marveled at his ability to spin a tale, it was not like hers at all.  Hers came through much labor and took hours of contemplation and finishing touches.  His seemed to just flow effortlessly from him, faster than a pen or keyboard could stroke.  His stories always involved her and she listened intently to see what role she would play today.  She felt her body respond and she participated at the appropriate times as he gently led her, feeling the nuances of the story ebb and flow. 

As a calm lull began to form she looked up at him and whispered “I love you.”  He quickly responded in kind and she heard him stifle a yawn as he spoke.  She knew that time had come.  It was once again time to part ways until the morning hours.  It was a ritual they observed daily: she blew him a kiss as he told her good night in his native tongue and while her heart ached at the thought of being separated from him, the ritual brought her a strange comfort.  She felt her own eyelids heavy as she looked up at him questioningly, wondering what would be the end to the story.  He looked down at her and smiled.  “The rest of the story is to be continued” he said as he tried to stifle a grin, knowing her inquisitiveness would get the best of her.  “Very well, I know you must go, but PROMISE me you will finish it!”  “I promise.” he said convincing her.  He had never lied to her and never given her reason to doubt him.  She knew without a doubt his word was true.  And THAT was an even greater treasure than that which was held by the red box.