This is an original story written by Valerie Anne Lim. Take a read. Enjoy.
His welcomed surprise came too soon, for news of his return was not expected till end of the month. But there he stood, at her doorstep greeting her with undeniable delight.
They sat by the benches in the park in her quiet neighborhood, chatting about their time spent apart the 2 weeks
"You know miss?" he asked.
She looked at him, confused.
"The one in the dictionary," he explained. "The meaning of miss is all within me," touching his chest, "here."
She smiled. He was always smooth, and genuine about himself towards her.
He reaches into his pocket and pulled out his bad habit, which he did say he was intending to quit. He puffed the smoke away from her face, for she was never fond of the cigarettes or its smoke.
"I always smoke when I'm around you," he admitted.
She teased, "perhaps you shouldn't hang around me then?" Sitting next to him brought back memories before the 2 week split; the time his 'twin' came over with paper flowers, another when he brought her to a well-known jazz bar. He was known for his surprises in the middle of the night.
"When did you get back in?"
"2 hours ago."
"I thought you came in last Saturday?"
"We extended our trip till the 18th."
"Oh?"
Conversation carried on through the night.
"I haven't stopped smiling since I left my house," she admitted, jaw aching from the pull of her cheek muscles for the past half hour.
He reached into his bag. "I got something for you," and passed her a white bag with a top in it.
"Also, something for your younger bro; a cap."
"I'm sure he'll like it." She smiled at his thoughtfulness.
"Do you know Marc Jacobs?"
"Yeah."
"And this is for you," pulling a white box out of his bag. She blinked, unbelieving.
"Wow. No one's actually got me something-something before." She stumbles over her words. She holds onto the box, not ready to open it.
He removes her handphone slung around her wrist. "Your arm would be weighed down later." She got the hint, a bracelet.
Minutes later, suspense killing him, he eggs her to open the box. "Don't worry, it's not a diamond." She laughs, "I know."
"I asked the pretty ladies at the shop to recommend me something for you," he explained. "I said that she's funky, wild, and loves being single."
She pops open the white box's lid to reveal a silver and yellow metal bracelet with a heart and a small sphere in the centre of the heart. "Beautiful, very her" she thought. She opened her arms, reaching over to hug him in thanks.
The hug, held too long. "I missed you. It's been too long since I last saw you," he said. She remained quiet, thankful.
Midnight came too soon.
Conversation died down, and they walked aimlessly through the neighborhood blocks, enjoying each others' company. On the way back he attempted to hold her hand, and she pulled away. He knew it was coming. Finally they returned to square one, the benches. She speaks her mind.
"While you were gone, I found myself. I found my centre. I found a balance."
He held his breath and let it go slowly reeling through his teeth. Eventually, he sighed, inaudible.
"Also, I learnt that I am happier being single."
Those dreaded words slicing his soul deep, blood gushing out the wound.
"I'm sure you knew that was coming," she pointed out, prodding at the wound further.
He nodded. "I shouldn't have left for the 2 weeks. It was a bad move." He laughed the pain off. She could see it eating at him.
She sat next to him. "Look at me."
"I can’t look at you."
She looked away, knowingly. It ate her too.
His bad habit reared its ugly head for the 6th time that night. The drags long and hard, the stick finished fast.
"I've never seen you smoke so hard before."
"I like my cigarettes."
He got up and walked away to take more drags, attempting to finish the packet in the next minute.
She bends over, whispering to herself; praying for help and guidance from her God.
After minutes of silence, thick enough to slice with a knife, he breaks with "Leopards have changed their spots. My friends have seen it."
She got up off the bench, and walked to another seat. "I believed in the leopard." She paused, "and I still do." She couldn't bear to sit still for another second; she got up and walked about in circles, pacing the ground.
Twenty minutes to 1a.m., after ten minutes of silence. She paced the ground over and over that one could imagine it being worn away, slowly but surely. Both had nothing to say, what was there to say?
"I'll be going home at 1a.m.," she said.
"You should be going now." He got off his seat.
She jumped up, as if happy. "Okay, I'll walk you out to catch a cab." She dragged herself as he walked briskly past her. The icicles that followed hit her hard; cold in the humid night.
They walked past her house. He was ahead of her. She followed, keeping pace with him, legs heavy, heart heavier. Down the slope of her place, memories flood her mind. Her mind raced and wondered what she was doing, she felt detached; she was not there but she was.
This was the right thing to do, she kept reminding herself. "I want you to know that the bracelet still means a lot to me."
"And there really isn't anything not to like about you," she added. Honest to every word uttered from her lips.
"Don't say anything," he replied coldly. "You don't have to explain anything."
She shut up, yearning to tell him that she was sorry. But nothing came out.
They reached the foot of the hill. He finally said something, "this is my last stick, might as well smoke it before hailing a cab."
She guessed her efforts to help him kick the habit was not going to happen, if anything, she spurred the habit and added the wood to the fire. She lit the match.
They stood meters apart, as if she carried a disease, and the immunization was not in sight. He wasn't going to talk to her, and she had no idea what to say that would not hurt him the way she had already did. She did not want to add alcohol to the wound, it would sting like hell.
She could not stand it anymore.
He smoked lights menthol, she recalled, randomly.
Walking up behind him, she finally placed her hand on his cheek and stood in front of him. A vague smile, but it was there for sure she thought. She kissed him on the cheek, a friend's kiss.
"You'll find someone, perfect for you." She meant every word.
She felt undeserving of whatever he was capable of giving. She always felt that way, for every other guy before him came her way, and failed in their attempts of loving her in hopes of reciprocated emotions.
He tried to embrace her, embrace the very thing he wanted, it was like catching air. As surely as air being there, you can't grasp air.
Standing at his distance, as if it kept him safe from her poison sting, he turned his upper body, not ready to stand before her. He cocked his head the way he did whenever he talked. Familiarity struck her deep.
"You are the first serious one." He took a drag of his cigarette.
The words rang within her.
He smoked his final stick, slowly. For every second that the stick was alive and burning, there was a chance of redeeming whatever they had perhaps. The final drag seemed utterly painful, slicing away everything that he had in mind for them. It ached her so, did he not know?
The final drag was done, and he released the left over orange bit of the cigarette. It fell quietly, like what they had, onto the concrete pavement. Quietly, it rested to be trampled on by the foot, smothering it. Quietly, it died away.
They waited for the cab on the road that seemed too quiet for the night. The air was surprisingly not tense, she guessing the emotions lost in the stillness. It probably would not have settled until hours later.
The crickets fell silent. He looked to the sky and said "I have never seen stars since the first time I came."
She added immediately, "There was this once, not here, the other playground. There were stars there."
Then she fell silent, she thought to herself. "It was him right?" It had to be, what a fool she was.
Cabs in the middle of the night never seemed to take this long; it felt like hours in those minutes.
"Where are the cabs?" She tried to laugh, but ended up sounding fake and tried.
Headlights at the end of the road, and a green light flashed on the top of the vehicle. Yes, a cab, finally. Oh no, was her first thought. This was really going to happen; it was going to be over. Oh no, not now. Idiot.
The cab driver pulled into the area, stopping perfectly in front of her, waiting, calling her to take a seat and run away. He got up and strode over confidently. He was always self-assured; it was one of those reasons why she liked him so.
Before he hopped into the cab, they embraced and kissed. His passion still alive, she could feel it engulfing her.
Then the cab left, taking all that was her, with him.
The walk up her slope was slow, trudging her way, she cried 3 tears.