It was past lunchtime, but I was sitting alone in the tearoom. With my head in my hands, I looked at the elevator, and let my mind wander...Say no to plagiarism. Get a tailor-made essay on “Why Violent Video Games Should Not Be Banned”? Get an original essay They say love stories are the best stories, so I always wanted one for myself. But nothing could have prepared me for its impact when it finally happened, and the many faces it brought with it. Lots of faces, all representing one face... His face. We had met by chance in the elevator of the old office building. She was an executive at the bank, or at least that's what she said, while I was a temporary worker. That day she had entered the elevator, a picturesque description of a strong woman. The one who controlled everything in her world, including the smallest details. But then there was something in her face, something that caught my attention when she smiled and said hello. This suggested that beneath the gaze of the boss, beneath the façade of a perfect woman, was a woman who carried within herself a great deal of pain. And I felt deep sympathy for her. We were alone, so I tried to strike up a conversation. I don't remember exactly what I said that day, but whatever it was, it worked. Because that was enough to earn me his company during the following lunch and tea hours. And it was during our third lunch together that she opened up to me. It turned out she had a husband who was more abusive than caring. The one that caused more pain than pleasure; who loved, but only to radiate hatred. And she loved him. She loved him even though she knew she shouldn't. She adored him even if it fueled her unwanted desires. It was a love story with few signs of a happily ever after, and she knew it. Yet she clung to him. He pushed her to her limits, but she stayed... I became her advisor, her shrink, her diary. My kind ears were his priest and my presence his confessional. She said it and I listened. Tale after tale of lust, mixed with violence and hatred. And beneath it all, his pure and determined love. Until this day... She wasn't in the elevator, or at lunch. I half-expected her to appear before lunchtime was over, but she hadn't. I had even lingered a little after closing hours, expecting to find her on the way out. But that wasn't the case. She never showed up. So I began my long wait. Day after day, I waited, hoping to see him again. And every day I came home empty. After a few days, I inquired, but found out that she had never worked at the bank. Nobody knew her, nobody except me. But did I really do it? Because all I had was one name, one name only... As the days went by, I lost count. I just knew I wanted to see her. I wanted to see her so much that it hurt me... If only to tell her how much she meant... They say that love stories are the best stories, so I had always wanted one In my opinion. But nothing could have prepared me for what came with discovering that I was in love with Elizabeth. A woman like me, but much older. And nothing could have stopped the faces... The faces I saw everywhere... His face. The clock read six o'clock, marking sixty-two years since his departure. I got up. It was time to go home. Keep in mind: this is just a sample. Get a now