Chapter 14: ❁you are my air

❁you are my air

[eleven years prior]

It was sunset time. The grass bellowed with the wind, rustling as it went. At the west harbor, the men were unloading their catch from the day. The sea whipped back and forth. The skies  darkened. Sparkling like those beautiful, proud denizens in the sky, the sunlight danced off the water.

The best part of going to a college by the sea was the beauty. The oceans, the tolling of the bells, the flashing of the light house, the early morning shouts of fishers, it was all so entrancing. What was more enchanting than that?

Nothing.

Maybe there was one thing. Falling in love for the very first time.

“There is this girl,” John whispered. He and Metilda sat on the deck by the sea. Their feet dipped in the water. “And my friend loves her like hell. She gorgeous, smart but well, my friend is quite good looking too but he’s scared to ruin their friendship. You know love messes everything up. I don’t know what to tell him. He’s screwed. He can’t love her, he can’t be just friends with her,”

“He should just tell her how he feels. Kiss and tell. That would be so sweet,” Metilda clasped her hands together. She was such a hopeless romantic. “Friends turned lovers, the perfect dream.”

“So he should just kiss her?”

Metilda nodded. Her excitement resembled a small child’s.

“Kiss the life out of her.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely!”

John got on his knees and kissed Metilda. Her lips were cold, soft, and sweet of the strawberry jam she had eaten.

Metilda’s eyes widened. One minute John was sitting next to her, the next he was holding her arms behind her back and kissing her like she was the only piece of air left.

A fire burned so bright behind Metilda’s fingertips. In the shocked state, she knocked John off her. He lost his balance and fell into the chilly blue sea.

Unfortunately, John didn’t know how to swim. He gurgled the saline ocean water, his arms collided with the water. Drops of ocean surrounded Metilda. She jumped into the ocean and her arm under John’s shoulders. Having lived by the sea all her life, Metilda was an excellent swimmer.

She dragged John and herself to the sandy shore.

John’s lips quivered. His skin had turned a light blue. “Th-that was a cold rejection.”

“I can warm it up if you’d like.” There was a playful smirk in Metilda’s eyes as she kissed the corners of John’s lips and John felt air return to his lungs.

❁❁❁

When Metilda kissed John at the dinner table the following day, he felt air return to his lungs. He felt alive at once. Every nerve, fiber, cell in his body was rejoicing in joy. It had been exactly twenty-eight hours since she had last kissed him. The festival inside his body quietened when he realized there were only seven kisses left.

Metilda left the dining room to tuck Louis into bed. And John was left alone to clean the table and dishes.

❁❁❁

Metilda woke up half-way through the night. Louis was snoring softly and she had somehow fallen asleep in her son’s room. She walked through the desolated house. There was music coming from the living room. She stopped near the entrance, her heart beating insanely fast.

It was their poem.

Everyone couple had one song or poem that belonged to them. Metilda and John had one too.

[ten years prior]

John had gone for the foreign exchange program and Metilda was missing him more than she missed her mama’s home cooked veggie casseroles. It was a yearlong program in France where he would be staying with an unknown family.

Metilda was scared that John would fall in love with some devastatingly beautiful French woman and he would forget about her.

All her doubts and worries were put to rest by the arrival of a certain package. John had sent Metilda a chocolat-bayonne-daranatz.fr along with it had arrived a small cassette.

[present]

In the cassette, John had recited a poem for Metilda, a French poem.

“Mel, I yearn to hold you in my arms. France has many beautiful sights but nothing is as beautiful as your eyes. In the marketplaces, I heard a man sing this poem. My French isn’t good and his English wasn’t good either but somehow he managed to word all that I am feeling right now.”

Metilda’s heart swelled. Why was John listening to this old tape? All her thoughts dwindled away when she heard young John’s voice once again.

“If sometimes when I am sailing on the large rivers, lakes

I never sleep when distant memories track down me

But the boat where I fled slides these deep waters

And inexorably move away from what was this world.

The price of this passage is paid by these long absences

That lead me to this country of refuge, hidden in the silence

Where my feet will stop at the border

Where I see the sky shining in my many prayers.

So, I will light the lantern before morning

My happiness is there, between your hands.”

Metilda walked into the living room. It was dark. The white curtains were parted by the window. Near the windowsill, sat John with the cassette player near his feet. The window was open and let in the cold drafts of air.  His eyes were in a daze, wisps of black hair blowing along the wind.

“I was wondering,” John didn’t need to look to know Metilda was here. He could feel her presence as one could feel sunlight behind closed eyelids. “Where we went wrong?”

“Maybe it was for the best.” Metilda wrapped her hands around her bare arms. “It’s better this way,”

“I don’t hate you. Metilda, I never did. Even after all you did, I can never hate you. My body just isn’t programmed to hate you.”

“I love you and I always will.”  He added after a moment of silence.

When John’s eyes met Metilda’s, the world had stopped spinning. Their wedding rings sparkled in the sparse amount of streetlight. For a moment, John thought he was standing at their wedding altar. The sound wine glasses clanging together filled his ears.

He wanted to hold her in his arms but couldn’t.

She wanted to bury her head in his shoulder but didn’t.

“Then why are you leaving me?” She asked him.

“I don’t know anymore.”  He sighed.

She smiled at him sadly. If she could have one wish, she would wish for John to love her without feeling guilty about it.

“Sleep well,” She bid him a silent adieu.

“I doubt I will.” He muttered under his breath.

.

.

.

.

.

Note: Cheers darlin’ is a perfect song describing Metilda’s feelings. This was a sort of an extra chapter. It wasn’t in the original storyline but since you guys wanted more. I wrote this chapter. I love the comments you guys leave. They are so thoughtful and deep. Sometimes I am forced to rethink the plot.