Veiled Affection

Chapter Thirty eight

We went home the day after the premier. Not 'hotel room' home. No. England home. And it was after a week or so after our return that Cate's children returned to their father and she stepped foot in my house again.

''How are we going to go about this?'' I asked. We sat on the couch in the living room. That past week I had tried to come up with plausible ways to make our intimate affairs known, but I was at a blank. And she seemed so, too.

''I haven't the faintest idea.'' She said.

''I thought you said that you did?''

''I did, for a while. But every somewhat tactic I come up with seems good at the moment, then terrible a few days later.''

We sat there for a moment in complete silence.

''I am very tired.'' Cate said.

''Do you want to take a nap?''

She shook her head lightly. ''I want to be with you right now,''

She went and lay on the couch, invited herself to lay her head in my lap.

''Don't let me fall asleep.'' She said.

A moment later, another change of position: she flipped her body, so her legs were stretched across my lap, and her head propped up on a pillow.

''Keep me awake,'' She said.

And another: she sat up and curled her arms around me, kissing the material over my chest, kissing the exposed skin on my cheek. I leaned in, as did she, but she made a diversion, and it was lips grazing cheek once more, and again. I leaned closer, brushing her nose, but it was the same; she mirrored. We played this game with each other. I wanted to make a journey, she wanted to do the same but made a diversion before the destination. A deeply pure moment, now I look back on it.

A little later and the sun had set.

''We need to think of something.'' I said. We were in the bedroom, she already lay in bed, I pulled down the blinds and drew the curtains.

''I know...'' She opened her arms and invited me to lay next to her. ''Come,''

She waited for me to undo my belt, take down the buttons of my blouse and undress. I switched the lights off and climbed into bed by memory, feeling my way towards her.

''I am very tired.'' I softly said.

''I know.''

She pulled me close, her face resting on the pillow and mine tucked into the curve of her neck. Our legs tangled in order, hers, mine, hers, mine, and our arms curled around each other's backs. We fit, as if this was our everyday. We didn't talk anymore, and even if we did, the words would fail me.

The next day. We didn't do anything in particular, which is something, an intimacy in itself. We were tired, the both of us, still recovering from our foreign excursion. Or was it our excuse to not come up with the next best move to make? Either way, it was in the early afternoon that Cate lay sprawled out on the bed, atop the covers, after having showered. I joined her, lay beside her, settled into a familiar position. The break since last night had made no difference: we fit, as if this was our everyday. The only difference was the sunshine that filtered through the curtains. This was a daydream rather than a night-time reverie.

She pulled my arm close, tucking it towards her chest; I shifted my hips closer, my chest pressed against her back.

Her breathing quickened.

''Are you okay?''

''I just had a weird moment,'' She said, muffled, ''Where I realized, if you wanted you could kill me in my sleep.''

I couldn't help but laugh.

''Not funny,''

''Don't worry. You are safe here.''

We started our evening by opening a bottle of wine, and that was that. The night trailed after us, unable to keep up. A pair of glasses stood half full on the table in front of us. They weren't our first, or second, or third drink. I was a little dizzy, trying to grasp what happened in every moment. Much of my joy was lost in the need to hold it, intact, so I tried to dull that voice which needs clarity, taking another sip. This is fine, I thought, this feels right.

Halfway through the evening I stood by the record player, concentrating on lowering the needle into the right groove. It was the wine that made me unaware she came towards me. She tapped on my shoulder and slipped a hand onto my waist, turning me to face her. Close as she stood to me, I could feel her warm breath on my skin. She brushed a strand of my hair behind my ear, then lowered slightly and leaned her head against my chest, listening to my heart thud like a bassline.

''Slow,'' She said. ''It is really slow. It must be peaceful in there.''

She came up again, our faces inches apart.

''Is it?'' She softly said.

''Hm?''

''Peaceful,''

I smiled a little, a rather fabricated expression. Because it is a question I have asked myself in those past few days. Because every time I tell myself I should feel fine, having now cleared the air about our secret, and the fact that we are ready for it to no longer be that. Because each time I do tell myself that, I end up feeling not that. Instead, there is fear; angst for all that is to come.

''Are you okay?'' She asked. ''Where did you go?''

I was okay, I said. And I was. Despite the fact I kept thinking about how things will go once everything is all out in the open, despite the fact my concentration kept drifting towards this thought and the paths it could go, despite this, I was okay in her presence. Or at least, I told myself to be.

''You don't have to be,'' She said. She took my hand in hers and rubbed her thumb over the back of your palm.

I was in memories of something yet to happen. Tenable futures in which people would know everything there is to it. In which people close to me would think different of me - despise me, even. I am the same, I would tell them, and I am happier now, much more than I was, if you would just listen. Please...

''You are far away,'' She said, returning me to the present. ''Don't hide from me.''

She looked at me intensely as though she was trying to see into my innermost heart. I smiled lightly to hide my deep distress.

What happened to that transformative moment that I had in Italy, I thought. What about my desire for our secret to be no more?

Outside now, the ground was wet, but it had not rained. I prefer the warmth, but I like the rain and its quiet noise. I spend those few days together trying to remain present. Akin to pushing Sisyphus' up one of the city's bigger hills, only for it to roll back down with every shove.

Again, memories of something yet to happen. I knew I was in danger. I wasn't in danger in that moment, being with her, but the tears fell all the same.

''Drunk,'' I lied.

''It's okay. You are safe here.''

Well past midnight. Her lean body stretched across the sofa, her head rested in my lap. Heavy like the moment in my hands. I rested one hand on her scalp, reaching through the golden strands, the other settled between her waist and hip.

''Don't let me fall asleep,'' She mumbled. Shortly after, I closed my eyes, too.