Veiled Affection

Chapter Thirty three

We didn't apologize that evening. I felt as if it was a given. When we leaned against the bathroom door, I realized that everything that was said prior came and went so fast. For those three minutes we didn't think. It seemed what came out was a spurt of words, unpolished and a lot of it meaningless.

One thing did stuck out though, and it was the first thing I ended up saying when that bathroom door was between us.

''I didn't know about your mother...'' I said, and it was true. The fact that she hadn't spoken to her mother for months was something she hadn't mentioned up until then.

''You couldn't have.'' She deeply sighing. ''So what about this resistance against change?'' She continued by saying, and I smiled a little.

''Hitting me right where it hurts,''

I heard an amused huff.

''We should come to a middle ground.'' I continued to say.

''There isn't one.'' She stated sedately. ''Either everyone knows, or no one does.''

I looked down at my feet and the corners of my mouth lifted slightly.

''One or the other...'' I said.

''Right,'' I visioned her smiling. ''One or the other.''

That evening we didn't go into making a decision. Instead, I saw the doorhandle slowly going down and turned around to see her opening the door. I met her eyes, and for one wild moment I thought of suggesting that we go to bed together, and then I saw, despite her smile, the dullness in her eyes and thought better of it. Because she might have said yes, and she would only have said that for me.

I went and gave her a kiss, and when I did, she grabbed my face with her hands and leaned in some more, prolonging the contact of our lips. She leaned back afterwards and kept my face in her hands. She looked at me for a long moment, and I wonder what it was she thought in those few seconds.

She let go of my face, slumped against the wall next to me, and slid down. I slid down with her until we both sat with our backs against the wallpaper.

I leaned my head on her shoulder. I felt my head raise slightly with every breathe she took. It soothed me. I almost fell asleep after sitting like that for a good minute in silence, but then she yawned, and the faintest sound made is so I didn't.

''I am going to bed.'' I softly said.

She hummed and kissed the top of my head.

We got up and I made my way back to my own room.

I did a lot of thinking before I was able to sleep that night. I ran our conversation on a loop in my head, wondering if it was her or me who showed the first signs of anger. Perhaps it happened simultaneously, both getting swept up in emotion at the exact same moment.

Lying in bed that night, I questioned not only the conclusive statement that we settled on (about the incapability to have it go one way or the other) but if our argument could have turned out differently at all. If I wouldn't have said that thing; if she wouldn't have given me that look - would the outcome of our conversation be any different?

But then, what is the sense in forever speculating what might have happened had such and such a moment turned out differently? One could presumably drive oneself to distraction in this way. In any case, while it is all very well to talk of 'turning points', one can surely only recognize such moments in retrospect. Naturally, when one looks back to such instances today, they may indeed take the appearance of being crucial precious moments in one's life; but of course, at the time, this was not the impression one had. It wasn't the impression I had, for I ended up drifting off to a calm slumber, duly unaware of the impact our conversation would have.