Veiled Affection

Chapter Four

Standing on the corner of our terrace, just having realized I wanted to divorce from my husband, my mind felt fogged; my thoughts scurried through my head in a disorderly, hopeless manner. Uncapable for any possible structure to be achieved, I grabbed my coat and was on my way out to walk, think, escape; be anywhere but at home for a moment. And as I stood at the front door, I heard him from behind, walking up to me.

''You're leaving again?'' He asked, and I was forced to turn around and face him.

I felt like I had a single heartbeat in which to react. I could only think of two things to do. Either I could take off my coat, go back inside with him, and talk about my thoughts and feelings, to end up in a conversation which I hadn't the energy nor the mental clarity for at that moment. Or I could do something else. So I did something else.

''I'm trying to figure out the continuation of my book. Perhaps a walk could clear my mind.'' I said, and with a minor switch from 'book' to 'marriage', I didn't deviate from the truth, I thought.

He nodded, then leaned in for a kiss, and my unstable mind cleared the way for one more realization before I headed out: I didn't want to kiss him goodbye, I wanted to kiss him farewell. And there's a lot of difference.

Mechanically I walked towards the bench and found it to be empty. I sat and pondered deeply: until that moment I had only ever heard, seen, moved, followed up and down where I was led or dragged for ten years on end: but now, I thought.

As I sat there, early in the afternoon, the moment came that I shut my eyes resolutely against the future: I stopped my ears against the voice that kept warning me of near separation and coming uncertainty.

I didn't want to go back and re-enter my home. To enter the door was to return to boredom; to cross the silent hall, to go up the darksome stairs, to seek my own little study, and then to see Gregory, and spend the long day with him, and him only. It was turning out to be an existence whose very privileges of security and ease I was becoming incapable of appreciating.

Despite my yearn to stay put, I went back to my house, and, when the afternoon fell, I went to do the chores I had done for years. But everything had changed. Being together with him would never again have the same feeling it had had only the day before. It would no longer be a marriage with low heights and shallow depths, where we were stuck in our own reality, and the dreary days flew by unnoticed. From that day on, I had come to understand that our marriage was empty.

Marriage-rules, marriage-duties, marriage-habits and notion, his voice, his face, his preferences and antipathies - it was what I knew of existence. That was my life. And I felt that it was not enough; I grew tired of the same routine of ten years in one day. I desired liberty; I gasped for change; I was in need of stimulus.

But, the colossal misfortune, the reason why I didn't listen to my wants and needs at first, was because I had failed to grasp the truths which I hadn't discovered until later on. The security which I had by then despised still felt safe and assured. I knew what I wanted, I knew what I needed, but I was full of fear. I was fearful of what would come If I were to act on my motives. Here I was, just having bought a new house with my husband, to end up wanting to leave him only days after.

So, for the upcoming month I didn't do anything about it, and I found the once dreary and dull months, to be dreadful and dire, for the realization that once hadn't come to my awareness, now had been presented to me by full force: I was living a tiresome existence, and not until then did I took notice.
__________

In that month I went out a lot. The visits to that bench became habitual to me. And every time my eyes lay sight on the bench, and found it to be empty, I felt a little more trapped in my own world. I had thought the two encounters with her were just mere strokes of luck. And then there was even one moment where I thought them to be unfortunate of happening: it seemed as if there was no follow-up - no more of seeing her again - and what those first two encounters left me with was with the gruesome awareness of my sluggish marriage.

I had a feeling like a bird, its wings violently plucked, flying in complete darkness against the bars of its own narrow cage. ''Outside, air and laughter!'' It screamed in me, but I didn't even answer anymore. I laid down on the couch and slept a lot to shorten the time, the silence, the terrible fear, too, because they couldn't be killed.

And then the month was over, and I saw her again.

It was the umpteenth day that I had locked myself in my study - holding myself busy as I partly wrote and partly just watched the seconds go by - when the doorbell rang. A most unusual sound, for we hadn't many visitors on a day-to-day basis. Gregory was outside gardening, so I dragged myself downstairs.

And when I opened the door, there she stood, generously smiling.

''Oh, thank God! I've knocked on four doors before this one!'' She said brightly, and I stood there, frozen. My mind, that has spent that past month so troubled and bothered, failed to alter so rapidly. Instead of welcoming her as I should have - and most definably would have if her arrival wasn't so unexpected - I stayed silent.

She still had that invincible smile on her face as she gawked at the building.

''So this is your house, huh?''

''What are you doing here?'' Were the words that left my lips, and the moment they did, I regretted saying them so directly. But I couldn't help it. I was caught by surprise: a woman I barely knew stood right before me on my doorstep. And considering the month I've went through, not at the most convenient time.

''A warm welcome to you, too.'' She said as that radiant smile of hers never faltered.

''I'm sorry,'' I muttered. ''It's good to see you, I mean. You look good,'' Was something I suddenly said, ''I was just busy writing.'' Was another thing I said to mask whatever I said prior.

She laughed and I remember feeling foolish. I took a deep breath, grew fully knowledgeable of her being there, and I recovered myself from a month of dismay. Or managed to hide it better, I suppose.

''Let's do that again,'' I said. ''Hi.''

''Hi.'' She said, and we stood there, smiling at each other. ''And to answer your question: I haven't seen you in a while and was wondering how you were.''

''So you throw a search party for my house?''

''Well I managed, didn't I?'' She stated. ''And there isn't a magic phone number I can call to answer all of my questions.''

''What if I give you one?'' I suggested and she grinned. In that moment it was her again, and her only, and I grew ignorant of the opening and closing sound of the backdoor, indicating Gregory's arrival back inside.

''Babe? Who's at the door?'' He asked, and I could hear his footsteps making their way over to us.

''Is that the husband who bites?'' Cate softly said, and I smiled.

Still looking at her, I addressed who so graciously stood before me with a raised voice: ''It's Cate.''

''Cate? From a few weeks ago, you mean?'' He said, his voice growing nearer. She raised her brows as she looked at me, pleasantly surprised that I once mentioned her to him.

I turned my head, saw him behind me, and took a step aside so he could see for himself. And it might be good to note that even though she hadn't left my mind for that entire month, I still had failed to look her up online to discover who she was. It was a combination of forgetfulness of her status, as well as neglect, for I had other thinks on my mind. But my ignorance up to that point was short-lived: he lay his eyes on her, and doubtlessly, he knew at once.

''Good grace! Cate Blanchett!''