true love story

Real Life Romance: My Love Story by Maria Imbalzano

Posted on by Chelsey M. Ortega

When I graduated from law school at the age of 28, I was fairly certain I would never get married. I had been on and off with my boyfriend for eight years, my parents had a terrible marriage, and I didn’t want to end up in an unhappy relationship. I had my career ahead of me, I had friends to hang out with, and I was fine by myself. 

A few weeks before I was to start my job at a law firm, I met with the managing partner. He said he had good news and bad news. What did I want to hear first?  I chose the bad news, which was that another new hire was starting two weeks before me and would be on the letterhead above me. The good news was that he was tall and good-looking. 

I laughed that off and began my legal career as anticipated a few weeks later. I did meet the “tall, good-looking attorney” on my first day, since we worked at a small firm (17 lawyers at the time). He was very nice, very handsome, and perfectly tall (6’4” to my 5’9” plus heels). But I had a boyfriend (the on and off guy) and he had a girlfriend (who was very short). 

We became friends, hung out on Friday nights for happy hour with our colleagues, and eventually broke up with our significant others due to relationship issues. We both worked late on week nights and started going out to get something to eat when we were famished—sometimes with others, sometimes on our own. It was all very platonic, but something was happening beneath the surface. 

On a weekend ski trip with our friends, we somehow ended up in the same room together. My roommate had disappeared into someone else’s room, and he didn’t have a bed in the guys’ room. Although there were bunkbeds, we shared some hot kisses and a bed that night. It all became very romantic over the next few weeks, as we kept our attraction hidden at work, and would meet up clandestinely so no one would know. 

Then he got cold feet. He told me we probably shouldn’t continue. We should just go back to being friends. I was devastated. I had fallen for him and didn’t want to be friends. And I told him just that. I said that, of course, I would be friendly at work. I was a professional after all. I told him I respected his decision, but I didn’t want to go back to hanging out. He said he understood and we left the restaurant with heavy hearts. 

The very next night, he asked if I wanted to go get something to eat. Had he not heard me? I said no, and reminded him that I did want to revert to the best friends zone. He accepted it that night, but a few days later we were at a firm function. He kept coming over to me, engaging in small talk, sitting down next to me if I sat, following me if I moved to a different spot. Then he asked why I was being so icy.  

I reminded him of our recent discussion. Sadness shrouded his eyes, but I could not back down. I had my heart to protect.  A few nights later, he asked me to go out to dinner with him. He wanted to talk.  Reluctantly, I agreed, despite my resolve. I was still crazy about him, and was willing to spend a few more hours together, hoping he would change his mind.

Although, he never said that in so many words, we spent that night and every night thereafter  together—either at my place or his. We went on romantic vacations together, most notably Key West and Rio de Janeiro and married eighteen months later. And I’m still crazy about him today.  

*****

I retired from the practice of law a few years ago, and now write full time. In several of my contemporary romance novels, the heroine is a lawyer, and a lawsuit pits the main characters against each other. My new release, “Island Detour,” (on pre-order and out on February 19th) does not follow suit. The main characters are teachers at an environmental school in the Florida Keys. Sunrise Island, a fictional island in the Keys, is based on Key West, which played an important role in my and my husband’s love story. We’ve gone there every year for the past thirty-seven years, and it is definitely one of my happy places. 

Buy Links for Island Detour https://books2read.com/u/4D20y7

Meet Maria and follow her writing journey: https://mariaimbalzano.com/

Real Life Romance: Of Love and War by Annie R. McEwen

Posted on by Chelsey M. Ortega

May 16, 1938

Dear Albert,

The joke is on you this time. I bet a friend that you would never write to me twice in succession. As it happens, you did!

That was the start of a letter from Jean Morlach to Albert Patrick, my parents. Jean, known then as Gina Morlacci, had emigrated from Italy to the U.S. with her parents in 1921. Albert, whose family was already established in America, helped the Italians as they struggled to set down roots in Pennsylvania. Albert, born in 1915, and Gina/Jean, born in 1912, became best friends before they even had a common language. 

You see, it was my turn but I was so darned busy with my hobby show that I neglected to write. You wrote again, thinking it was your turn. I’m so glad you did. 

When Jean and Albert got engaged in 1939, it surprised absolutely no one except Jean’s parents. Still struggling to make a success of their Italian grocery, they’d expected that Jean, their oldest child, would stay at home to help. Jean and Albert had other ideas. Jean was so worried about her parents’ reaction that she wrote Albert about it. She was considering abandoning her devout Catholicism so her marriage to Albert could take place quietly and fast. 

You know, I’ve been thinking (I do it sometimes) that perhaps we’d better marry in a Protestant church. I don’t mind.

Albert, who’d divided his growing up years between Florida and Pennsylvania, got an apartment in Tampa and set about furnishing it for his bride. Jean industriously, but on the sly, added to her stock of soft goods. Knowing nothing of the Florida climate, she worried about heating. 

Are you getting gas in the house, or are you getting an oil stove? I just was wondering about it. 

Last night, I embroidered for a while and made napkins. I have four sets, now. 

When she wasn’t making linens, working at her new job as a grade school teacher, or slaving at her parents’ grocery, Jean longed for Albert.

It seems ages since I saw you last. You seem so very far away—almost unreal. There are ever so many things I’d like to talk over with you, but I guess they will keep. Only, I do miss you so very, very much. 

In 1940, while World War Two loomed and Albert was sure he’d be drafted, Jean and Albert married, not in a Protestant church but in the vestry of a Catholic one. Jean’s parents were as angry as she’d feared. She fled with Albert to Florida, leaving her trousseau—all those embroidered linens—behind. The newlyweds had just enough time together in Florida to conceive their first child when Albert was drafted. He went off to train with the U.S. Air Force. The young airman was shocked by the unreadiness for War he saw in his first posting to Atlanta. He wrote Jean about it.

I don’t think these people realize a war is going on, so much waste and complaining. Several plants and a dairy are on strike, 325 fellows here just sentenced for draft evasion. There was an air raid drill the other day and officials complaining about poor cooperation from people. 

War and loosening social mores were producing changes in American society, and not everyone was comfortable with them. Albert was appalled by local women. Or maybe his letter was an attempt to reassure his lonely bride back home that his eyes weren’t wandering.

The girls up here are awful. Their skirts are 3 to 4 inches above the knee and they smoke more cigarettes than men. More imitation blondes than I ever saw in my life. I’m not laying it on thick, it is the truth with no exaggeration. 

Jean had her own complaints, mostly about her rowdy students. She’d gotten a job in a rural community outside Tampa, teaching eight grades in a one-room schoolhouse.

I’m just a bunch of nerves. You know it’s difficult to keep smiling all day in front of the students when I feel like throwing some of them out on their heads.

As difficult as those war years were, Jean and Albert were sustained by their love letters. Jean’s always closed like this one. 

All my love to you alone. 

Jean

Jean and Albert were married sixty-two years. After Albert’s death, Jean lived another nine years, but she was never truly happy. Her last utterance before her own passing was Albert’s name.

As Albert’s ended like this, from 1941.

I love you, sweetheart.

Your husband

Annie R McEwen is an award-winning author of historical romance, paranormal romance, and romantic suspense. Her Bound Trilogy from Harbor Lane Books launches on May 7, 2024 with Bound Across Time, a love story that transcends death itself. Annie also has upcoming titles from Bloodhound Books (UK) and The Wild Rose Press. For release dates, giveaways, Annie’s quirky blog, and more, go to www.anniermcewen. Be sure to Subscribe for her fun newsletter and a free Regency Romance story. While you’re at it, visit Annie on Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/anniermcewen/ and Facebook: https://facebook.com/Quillist/