***

A deep winter freeze slammed into New York, making the city miserable. Penn Station was bog-like. An ever-changing boot prints in brown slush covering the floor. Victor Dunphy pulled his coat tight and cautiously kept pace with the commuters hurrying out of the station. Outside was no less treacherous, the sidewalks were salt-dimpled ice sheets. A berm-like ridge of brown snow created a cattle shoot, packing commuters in tight at the corner crossings.

As Victor exited the station, he caught the eye of a person walking toward him. The person focused on their sneakers, which slid on the ice like skates, then looked up. Victor and the person approaching locked eyes on each other. Both forgot about the icy sidewalk and stared into each other’s eyes, unable to break away.

As the person neared, Victor saw the most beautiful silver-grey, or possibly ice-blue eyes that seemed to radiate in the gloomy morning gloom. Victor straightened, his heart pounded and his gut seized. A wave of warmth ran up his spine. Nearly bumping shoulders as they reached each other, they both turned their heads as if their eyes were fixed on the other’s.

The person was bundled up against the cold. He or she, shorter than Victor, wore a fat woolen hat pulled down to their eyebrows, with only wisps of long black hair escaping here and there. A multicolored scarf was wrapped around their neck and covered their nose, all Victor saw were the amazing crystalline eyes, highlighted by long black lashes.

In that instant, Victor felt an overwhelming connection, like he’d fallen in love for the second time. But the slim physique, long lashes, fair skin, those incredible eyes belonged to a much younger woman. That was the odd thing, Victor was a 56-year-old gay man; he had never been so attracted to women in his life.

She reached the entrance to Penn Station, opened the door, and stopped. Victor turned and faced her as commuters angrily maneuvered around him. Eyes still coupled, his heart felt like it had been lassoed; he was being pulled toward her. From the intensity of her stare, she too felt drawn.

A heavyset man bundled up like a bear knocked into Victor, breaking the tether. The woman with the crystalline eyes glanced into the station, cocked her head, and stepped in. Victor moved out of the flow of people and watched her disappear; mesmerized. Pulse-pounding, Victor stood confused. What had just happened?

Victor had locked eyes with people before, but not with that intensity for nearly thirty years. And never before had he locked eyes with a woman. He waited a moment and when she didn’t re-emerge, a wave of sorrow washed over him. In those few moments, they had shared a lifetime of intimacy. If she felt half of what Victor had, why hadn’t she stopped and at least said hello?

Throughout his life, Victor locked eyes on a dozen men. As a teen, he had furtively caught the eye of several boys. Each time it happened, he hid the internal emotional rush. Locking eyes and feeling like his heart had been captured and cradled wasn’t something he’d seen in movies or read in books. Neither his parents nor his friends had ever mentioned the emotional intensity that he felt when catching someone’s eyes.

As a high school Junior, he locked eyes with Mitch Handlemann. The feeling was stronger than any before that. But when Mitch Handlemann held his gaze back, Victor knew what they had was more than a simple attraction—it was deep and real, and it was important.

Mitch wasn’t a friend; they had been in a few of the same classes since freshman year. One day as juniors, Victor and Mitch were walking to math class from opposite directions. When they reached the classroom door their eyes met. As if rehearsed, both boys slowed and stopped—eyes riveted on the other. The clamor from the kids racing around them vanished as they stared. They broke contact as Victor turned to enter the classroom. But Mitch’s eyes were still on him when Victor turned to find him in the seat next to him, not in his usual back-row seat.

Math class was a blur; Victor’s heart pounded like a hammer every time he glanced over. And Mitch’s face was flushed as he took quick glances. It was the most amazing feeling Victor ever had. Locking eyes and the simultaneous body—shaking attraction were head-spinning. It was both familiar and genuine as if he and Mitch had been in love since birth.

After class, Mitch invited Victor to hang out after school. For the next weeks, they met several times after school, usually in Mitch’s bedroom. That’s where they both had their first kiss and sensual sensation. But the affair ended abruptly when a boy on the baseball team was roughed up at the mere suggestion of his being queer. After that, Mitch looked down instead of catching Victor’s eye. But every once in a while, they briefly locked eyes, making Victor’s insides vibrate.

In college, Victor locked eyes with three boys. Each time he had that same cognizance of intimacy and warm chest-squeezing sensation. With each, he felt like he’d loved before and each boy had the same unexplainable connection with Victor.

But all those encounters paled to locking eyes with Gregory Gornicki. When Victor locked eyes with Greg, he nearly crumpled. Not only had his chest tightened and his stomach buzzed, his entire body trembled. Locking eyes with Greg was the most soul-stirring feeling he ever had. They locked eyes from opposite sides of a club and were in love by the time they met in the middle of the dance floor.

Victor locked eyes with his husband Greg 31 years ago, which was the last time the phenomenon happened. So why had it suddenly reappeared and with such intensity? And why with a woman? He cautiously hurried across 31st Street and down 7th Avenue to his office. But those crystalline eyes stayed with him all day. . . . . .