Tense Love
Do you remember when we met?
It was a winter’s day, the air was sharp. Your gaze slid languidly over me as we talked, began slowly reaching into each other. In time, I discovered that you like nectarines more than anything in the world, learnt to decipher your emotions from the movements of your face (the bashful drop of your eyebrow), saw that you hated being made a fuss of. You divined that I was happier on grey days, knew I loved my Dad more than my Mum, knew the cause of the scar on my cheek.
The figs were ripening on the tree in my garden, and you spent too much time at my kitchen table, watching me steep mushrooms for a risotto, or roast tomatoes in the oven. Our talk was light, sweet.
I remember our first kiss. You dipped your finger into the dressing I was making, I turned, stroked away your nervous smile with my lips. Oil ran down my arm. I couldn’t stop the burning.
Do you remember how we began taking walks, kicking the fallen green leaves, clearing a path ahead? You would become breathless, your cheeks red. I wouldn’t be able to resist drawing you against a tree, my hand twisting between your tired thighs until I felt your breath come hot and sweet on my cheek, making me blush.
* * *
You are being unfaithful. I don’t know who she is. You are changing before my eyes. There is no suspicious behaviour, the sex is still good, but you are absent. Tonight, as I slowly curled my fingers, reaching further inside, you tensed and expelled my hand onto the sheet.
I confront you. You drop your gaze, say ‘I love her’. I cannot reply. You say you are sorry, that I will always to special to you. It is over.
* * *
Three months after our separation, you will ring my doorbell. You will explain that you miss me, can’t be without me, you will say ‘I love you’. You’ll describe how days without me are empty.
I will ask what happened between you and her. You’ll say it is over. I will not ask why. You will remind me of how you steadied me when I tripped over a tree root, how you licked oil from my arm, how you made a fig pudding for me.
I will take you back.