She peeled her eyes open – the grey dawn was breaking outside her window. What time was it? She had no idea. She could hear the birds chirping which normally meant it was sometime after about five. It was Sunday. She knew that. God… where had the week gone? The past few weeks had floated by without her even noticing. She reached for the glass of water beside her bed. As her American friends would say – she was “parched”. The cool drink felt sweet in her mouth. She sighed. She lay back down and closed her eyes.
His breathing changed beside her – he was finding his way out of sleep. He’d be awake soon. She ran her hand over her chest and nestled her head into his shoulder. He felt warm. This felt nice. His skin had been softer than she remembered. Guys like this, they almost always had rough hands, hard fingers… it had been a surprise when his hand had brushed hers in the bar earlier that night. A surprising touch that was… unexpectedly gentle.
It had not been her intention to wake up next to him when she had agreed to meet for a drink. A friendly catch up was the only intent. A couple of beers and the standard “so what have you been doing for the past eight years” type of conversation. This is where it had all started. But as the night wore on and the familiar banter returned, she began enjoying the feel of his soft skin and gentle hands.
He coughed and jolted himself awake.
“You want some water?” she asked
“Nah – I’m alright love”
She knew his use of the word love was in no way a reference to what was going on between them – merely a turn of phrase. He closed his eyes and dozed off again. She watched him the rising light.
She smiled. Damn it. She liked this one. She always had.
There’d always been a soft spot for him, but as can sometimes happen, life had taken them in two completely different directions. Opposite sides of the metaphorical and physical world. She would often enquire as to how he was… checking in every year or so – waiting for the day the answer from their mutual friend would be “he’s moving in with her” or “he’s getting married” - but so far, that day hadn’t arrived. She wasn’t dreading it; hell she’d be happy for him to have found someone. She had always wanted him to be happy.
They had stumbled out of the cab and up to her apartment late last night after too many beers. She gave him the grand tour – it took all of twenty five seconds in her tiny apartment. They had sat on the couch. He had run his fingers through her hair and let them linger on her neck a little too long - the way he knew she liked it. It’s strange, she thought, how our bodies have a memory of one another. The way hands, arms, fingers and lips can remember where they once sat comfortably, many years ago.
“You know” she said “There are two spare beds here tonight… you can sleep wherever you want. Please don’t think you have to spend the night in my bed… if you don’t want to.”
She was doing it again. After the “crash of 2007” she seemed now to give her “gentlemen callers” a get out of jail free card. An option to escape should they want to now that they were faced with the full Technicolor of the reality of her.
He just looked at her. Smiled.
She hated to admit how much these situations scared her these days. She just couldn’t shut herself off like she used to. Her heart had burst open a while ago – and seemed that no matter how hard she tried to slam it shut - time and time again, the door creaked open. At least she knew she could start to feel it all again. But to be honest, this is what terrified her the most.
“You are” he whispered “a thousand times more beautiful than I remembered you. Does that answer your question?”
She smiled and looked away. These kinds of comments made her uncomfortable in her own skin. She never knew what to say to this.
“Thank you” she had mumbled and buried her head in his neck. He wrapped his arms around her. She could have spent the entire night right there. But she didn’t. They moved off the couch, down the hall and into her room. The night moved on in the usual way.
Their whole reunion had been sweet, intimate and sentimental. A moment where the two of them could be in an oasis of one another. A moment of what could have been.
But now… as the grey light brightened… she could feel time ticking, the oasis was sliding away and reality falling over them like a fog.
His eyes were open – he was staring at the ceiling.
“What time is it?” he asked.
“Too early to have to know” she answered, rolling towards him and rubbing his chest.
“Seriously hon… you know I have a train to catch… what time is it?”
Apparently he had reached reality before she had.
“Oh… its… um… nearly seven” she answered.
“I should get going… I don’t want to be late.”
He got up and started looking for his clothes; she rubbed his back as he sat on the edge of his bed.
“This was nice,” She said.
He turned and looked at her. He had a lazy smile about him, like the cowboys who look over their shoulders in movies. The ones who tip their hats and ride off into the sunset.
“Yes… it was…” He rubbed her shoulder and kissed her forehead. He looked at her again... she loved how utterly vulnerable she felt.
“Don’t go. Stay. Stay in this little pocket of time. Don’t let it end. Don’t wake up and let the fog fall. I don’t want to go back to the real world, I like it here where we can pretend that this is perfect and that this is us. That there would never be a problem with us, that we would be happy and sweet with soft skin forever. Stay and let me always bury my head in the endless caverns of your neck. Keep looking at me like you understand, keep resting your nose on mine, keep this fantasy world alive. Don’t get on the bus that will take you to the train that leads to the plane that takes us right back to where we never got to go. Stay here with me in this sleepy happy daze. Don’t let the mess of the real world come on in and fuck it all up.”
But instead she said… “Do you want a cup of tea?”
All too soon the sun was up, bags were packed and they were at the bus stop. The air was crisp and fresh. It woke both of them up much more than she liked.
“So… it’s some life you’ve got yourself here babe.” He said, looking out at the river.
“Yeah. It’s ok.” She replied. “It’s not always easy… but it’s what I wanted right?”
“Yeah. You always did.”
The bus appeared from around the corner.
“Well…” he said, picking up his bags “Here’s my ride.”
“Yup”
“I guess I’ll see you in another eight years.”
He smiled at her again and laughed.
He kissed her on the cheek.
“Take care love. You’re awesome.”
She smiled. There was nothing left to say. She had to let this moment go.
And just like that he got on the bus… and drove off into the sunrise.
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