Silence. Darkness. Only the occasional rush of waves onto the sand broke it. A little distance away music played. In bits. Occasioned by the breeze that blew some notes our way. The world was shut out. Silence. Darkness. Waves.
My confident outside didn't betray what I felt inside as we walked up the stairs. Barely an hour earlier I had changed clothes more times than I ought to. Figuring out what 'look' I was going for. Casual-friendly or sexy-flirty? Was he going to open the door to a long lost friend who just wanted to play catchup or to a long lost lover who just wanted to play? I went with casual. Doorbell. Wait.
Silence. Darkness. Waves. He knew. He needed to calm me down. Silence. Darkness. Waves. The tears rolled freely. I should run. I should just get out of this car and run! I wanted to turn back the hands of time. I wanted to go back to that first day. Yes, let's go back to the port. Let's not notice him this time. Let's not get absorbed by his presence. Let's not want to spend every waking minute of every day and night with him. Self, let's walk away. Nay, let's RUN away! And yet I sat on. Staring into the dark sea that was always so blue. Thoughts running through my head. And his.
"Hey!" Oh it's useless! All that confidence I'd built just dissipated. Vanished. I was bubbly all over again. "This is my friend Mo.." Aha! I wasn't a starry-eyed 20 something year old again. I had placed an order for a chaperone. "Hi Mo!" He reached his hand out. Deep baritone. Suddenly I was jealous. That's MY voice. That's MY hand. This is MY... was he? We walked into the sparsely furnished house that was hardly a reflection of his current status. The familiar scent of well-cooked food greeting us as we sat. "I brought you wine!" I had managed common decency. I checked him out. I could see he'd fought like I had. And had settled for casual as well. "Thank you for the wine. What can I offer you?" I'll have you. To go.
"Talk to me." Deep Baritone. "Please talk to me." The pain and helplessness was evident. Silence. Darkness. Waves. I wanted to say it. I wanted to yell it. I wanted to scream it while hitting him!!! "I'm hurting! I am confused! Why?" The pain nearly equalled what I'd felt when my father had died. Deep, intense, unrelenting, endless, hurt. Pain. "Talk to me please." What would I say. Nothing could fix it. Nothing could fix me. Nothing could fix us. I stared forward through the tears. No longer fighting them back. I let go. Silence. Darkness. Waves. Sobs.
"Food is ready actually, want to check it out?" Yeah, I'll check you out. IT! Check IT out. "Sure!" I bounced out of my seat and followed him to the kitchen. The glass of wine had made this near teetotaller very giddy, very fast. Think it had something to do with how quick I drowned it while trying to calm my nerves? He mumbled something as he showed me what he had cooked. I heard nothing. I smelled it. That all too familiar strong masculine scent from all those years ago. I looked up at him. Studied his face... a few kilos later... still good looking. My gaze shifted downward. "It's okay?" Back. "Yes, it's fine. I'll serve it don't worry." He was always a great cook. He looked at me. He drew closer. I saw it coming. "Mo! Food's ready!" I wasn't ready.
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"So you two... what's the story?" Several glasses of wine later, we had gone back 12 years. Finishing each other's sentences. Laughing at inside jokes. We were at the beach once more with our canned sodas and our Toyota. Feet on the dashboard. At home with each other. I had barely remembered that Mo was in the room. She didn't know. Well, now she did. "Story? Us? Naaaaah! Just old workmates." I responded. Nonchalance.
"She's my wife. But she ran away from me."
My sandals were deep in the sand.
