Dream vs reality - Part 2

J had never felt this good in years. He was healthier, sharper, and standing taller since the promotion. His days were busy, and his evenings were full—with laughter, real conversation, even quiet weekends at BBQs with friends and the occasional slow, sensual evening with Lisa.

Lisa had become more than a date. Her wheelchair didn’t define her, but it did remind him of her. The one on the screen. The one with long legs and the kind of beauty that could shatter a man from a thousand miles away.

Still, Lisa was warm. Honest. When they kissed, it was deep and full of need. And the sex? It was better than expected. She knew her body. Knew how to guide his hands. But as good as it was… when he closed his eyes, the face he saw wasn’t Lisa’s.

It was her’s. The dream woman. The one who lived in his inbox, in his dreams, in the quiet corners of his mind.

He tried to quit the subscription. He did. But something about knowing she was there, even if just in the background, kept him tethered. They didn’t chat every day, not like before. But when he messaged, she still replied—sweetly, with interest, like a friend who knew your soul but wouldn’t ask for more.

And J? He was caught in between. Between the woman who made his bed feel less cold, and the one who lit his fire without ever touching him.

-

One night, after a long shift, J met up with Amir—his closest friend, a gentle soul who could read J like a worn novel.

They sat in the corner of a bar, beers sweating between their hands, the jukebox playing something sad in the background.

“I met someone,” J said.

Amir smiled. “Finally.”

“She’s in a wheelchair,” J added.

Amir didn’t flinch. “Cool. Is she good to you?”

“She is,” J nodded. “But… there’s something else.”

Three beers later, the truth poured out.

“I think I have a thing,” J said, his voice low. “For women in wheelchairs.”

There was silence for a beat. J looked down, ashamed.

Amir leaned in, his voice calm. “So what?”

“It’s weird.”

“It’s honest,” Amir said. “That’s rare. And beautiful, actually.”

J exhaled. He didn’t realize he’d been holding it in for years.

He told Amir everything. About his online dream woman. The fantasies. The messages. The dreams. And Amir, drunk but clear-headed, just nodded.

“You want to meet her?”

“Yeah.”

“You should,” Amir said. “Life’s too short to not taste the dream.”

J laughed, a little stunned by how good it felt to say all of it out loud. Not hide. Not apologize.

That night, he sent Her a message. Told her everything. That he’d told his best friend. That he was seeing someone. That he still thought of her. That he sometimes couldn’t help himself.

She wrote back:

“I’m glad you’re being honest. With yourself, too. I like that you’re in a good place. You’ve always been kind. Whatever happens, I’m here for you”

-

A week later, J lay next to Lisa, their bodies warm from another night together. She had fallen asleep first, her breath soft against his shoulder.

And J? He was already drifting.

In the dream, Estella was in a red dress. The hotel suite was lit golden, and she wheeled toward him with ease and confidence. Her lips were glossy, her neck warm under his mouth, her legs long and pale beneath the hem of her dress. She pulled him to her, and he felt himself grow hard.

In the dream, his hands explored her slowly. Reverently.

And in real life, in that half-asleep state, he let out a soft moan.

“Estella…”

Lisa stirred. Her eyes opened. She saw him, still asleep, visibly aroused. She said nothing.

-

Morning came with sunlight and coffee. Lisa poured two mugs. He yawned, groggy.

“You sleep okay?” she asked.

“Yeah. Dreamt, I think.”

Lisa nodded, watching him over the rim of her cup. “Who's Estella?”

J froze. His stomach dropped.

“What?”

“You said her name in your sleep. You were… moaning.”

There was no escape. J closed his eyes, exhaled, and opened the door.

“She’s someone I’ve known online. For years. Never met. Never even called. But she’s… been part of my life. Especially when I felt lonely.”

Lisa was quiet for a long time.

“And are you still in touch?”

J looked down.

“No,” he said. And regretted the lie the moment it left his mouth.

Lisa didn’t press. But her silence said more than words could.

J went to work that day feeling exposed but lighter. He’d been honest with his best friend, mostly honest with Lisa, and completely himself in the messages with Estella.

He wasn’t sure what would happen next. Maybe he'd book the flight. Maybe he’d let her go. Maybe Lisa was the one he was supposed to hold onto. But whatever came, he was done hiding from his desire.

He knew now—desire didn’t always make sense. But it didn’t have to be shameful either.