I sat on the patio, watching the butterflies flutter around the garden as I cradled a cup of coffee. I have to drink a lot more coffee nowadays and take a lot more cold showers. We had fallen into a routine; we spend the whole day together and I run away when she falls asleep at night like a coward. She didn't ask me about my whereabouts anymore and I know she assumes I spend every night at Gwen's. No, I spend every night in my house, on an empty bed, her face in my mind and my thing in my hand.
I hadn't been with Gwen since the night of the wedding instead I was pining for someone I couldn't have or would have a panic attack if I looked at her the wrong way. Speaking of, I had set plans in motion to look into the person who would have hurt her like that. The options were limited, it was someone who had access to my clothes, and that narrowed it down to a handful of people. Five to be precise but I might as well narrow it down to four as one of them was Sam, my best friend and cousin. When I find whoever did it, they would wish they had never been born.
"Good morning." Her voice startled me out of my thoughts. I turned to see her standing at the patio door, wearing her shorts and a t-shirt, her hair looked like she had been in a battle in her dreams.
"Morning," I replied. "Coffee? I just got it fresh from the resort kitchen,"
She sat down beside me on the plastic chair and grabbed the thermos mug. "Thank you, You okay? You look like you haven't been getting much sleep?... You know what, don't answer that."
"Why?"
"It's a stupid question considering you spend the night at Gwen's. I am sure you both are doing everything but sleep,"
I raised an eyebrow. "Jealous?"
"Hardly," she shot back.
We sat in comfortable silence for a while, occasionally one of the resort staff would pass by and say hi. She leaned back in her chair, sipping her coffee with a thoughtful expression.
"So," she said suddenly, "how did you end up with someone like Gwen?"
"What do you mean someone like Gwen? I don't know if that is an insult or a compliment."
She laughed and rolled her eyes, "Come on, she's an ex-beauty queen with legs you could die for. A gorgeous body and pretty face, and you are well you?"
"Girl, what the hell are you trying to say, that I am not good-looking enough to get a girl like Gwen? Definitely an insult," I said trying to feign annoyance.
"Will you let me finish? Well, she is good-looking and you're… meeh but I am sorry to say she is not very bright and you are adequate. She just doesn't strike me as your type," she finished with a teasing look in her eyes.
"You're not expecting me to answer that are you? You know with the veiled insult and all," I smirked.
She threw a napkin at me, laughing. "Seriously, though. How did that even happen?"
I shrugged, leaning back in my chair. "Well, she is the influencer for our jewelry fraction, we met at a fundraiser, she looked stunning and we had sex in the car. It was and still is purely physical—no strings, no drama."
I glanced at her and noticed that I had made her even more confused. "I don't get it. How can you just... separate intimacy from something so intimate?"
"That's because you are overthinking it. Its biology. It's just sex,"
I caught a bit of pink in her cheeks and wondered when she was going to give up on a conversation that clearly made her uncomfortable.
"That's… so... unromantic."
I chuckled. "Not everything has to be romantic, Nita. Sometimes, it can be about scratching an itch,"
"I don't know. I think I'd want there to be more to it. Sometimes I wish…,"
I waited a few moments for her to continue speaking but she just stared hopelessly at her coffee. "Wish what?"
Her cheeks got pinker. Oooh, this is gonna be a good one. "Nothing. Forget it."
"I don't know you to be a chicken Mrs Numero, now spill,"
She groaned and buried her face in her palms in embarrassment. "I hate you."
"Noted," I said, laughing. "Go on"
"Fine," she muttered. "I was just saying... sometimes I wish I could, you know, be with someone intimately, to understand what it is like."
My smile faded as I realized how serious she sounded. "You mean, scratching your itch?" I tried to lighten the conversation once more
"Yes," she smiled.
"Have you ever explored those feelings by yourself?"
Her eyes shot up to mine, "What?"
"Have you ever tried touching yourself?"
Her jaw and head dropped almost in her lap, "Oh my God, Richard! I can't believe I am having this conversation with you!"
"There is no shame in it, Nita. It's your body. You can touch yourself, it will help you figure out how to overcome your fear."
She groaned and leaned back on her seat once more. She was about to say something else when we heard raised voices from the building next to ours. We both got up from our seats like a couple of busybodies, straining our necks to get a better view. A woman screaming something about a divorce and the man angrily walking out.
"Come to think of it, we have fifty-one weeks to go before our own divorce," she was being funny but I couldn't help but feel dread. I wasn't looking forward to losing her.
*****
We spent the day taking a pottery class and gossiping about the just-separated honeymooners with a few of the other couples. There were lots of theories but the top gist was the man was having an affair with the woman's sister. When couples have too much time on their hands, I guess we all resort to gossiping.
Myself and Nita had the time of our lives with side jokes and snide comments. The only other person I was this carefree with was my late sister. We were always up to one mischief or the other and when she died, it almost killed me. Now to find someone that we resonated on the same frequency with was refreshing and to think that I had a crush on her since High School.
We took a walk around the resort and had a picnic–like dinner beneath a tree. I had such a great time, it was getting harder and harder to leave her at night. She was becoming my addiction.
"You're leaving again?" she asked that night after I took a shower and put on my casual jeans and a t-shirt.
"Yeah," I said, "you must be bored of me already. I haven't left your side all day,"
"I want you to stay," she said softly and I wondered how difficult that must have been for her to say. "I mean… I don't want to be alone,"
Then I realized I wasn't being fair to her. Here she was, separated from her family with no other company but mine and I ran out on her every night. I warred with myself, I wanted to stay but I also couldn't stand the torture of being beside her and not being able to touch her, to feel her. What would she do if I reached for her?
I took a step towards her, and another and another. The closer I got, the more evident the tension in her body was. Her fingers gripped the blanket she had wrapped around her like some sort of protection talisman but she stood her ground, tilting her chin to look at me, daring herself to be brave.
I stopped inches away, my hand wrestling with my heart, to reach out and touch her hair, her face, her lips. Slowly, I bent my head, leaning in as if to kiss her. Her breath hitched, her lips thinning in fear… I think.
I kissed her cheek instead, lingering just long enough for her to rethink her request. "Goodnight, Nita," I whispered, pulling back.
"You're leaving?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
"I can't stay, Nita. I'm sorry,"
I turned and walked out before I could change my mind.