3 The Encounter with the Shark #3
I lightly applied kajal to the inner corners of my eyelids and put in my green contact lenses, which gave my eyes a rest, even though they weren’t prescription.
My eyes were very sensitive, and the lights at the nightclub would have made them water without that precaution. I tried one last time, in vain, to adjust my dress and returned sadly to my room.
You were wearing a pair of linen pants that highlighted your muscles and a white shirt—also made of linen—left half-open in the front.
I stared at you for a long time, open-mouthed, as if it were the first time I’d ever seen you.
I told you I was ready, but just as we were about to leave, you noticed that my dress was open in the back and offered to zip it up.
That was exactly what I didn’t want at that moment; I felt so vulnerable that if I’d felt your hands on my skin, I would have started trembling.
“Honey,” I whispered in a faint voice, overcome by an uncontrollable surge of emotion, “can you zip it up without touching me?”
You gently grabbed my shoulders and turned me toward you: “What kind of question is that?” you asked, a hint of concern in your eyes.
I couldn’t take it anymore; my emotions were playing tricks on me, and tears were already welling up in my eyes.
I froze; I couldn’t answer you. I felt like I was about to faint, and if you hadn’t been there to hold me up, I probably would have fallen to the ground.
My face had gone pale, and beads of sweat were framing my face.
Luckily, you realized right away that I was having a panic attack; it was the first time it had happened, and I was terrified.
“Honey, you’re not going anywhere in this condition. I’m going to call the resort doctor right now to have you given a sedative,” you said, worried to see me like that.
“No, please,” I protested, bursting into tears and seeking refuge in your arms.
“Now lie down on the bed for a bit, and you’ll see that you’ll calm down,” you said as you slipped off my dress and helped me lie down.
I gave in to your concerns and let you cover me with the sheet.
My head was spinning while you were on the phone with the bar to let them know we wouldn’t be going to the party.
The person on the other end kindly offered to have dinner brought to our room.
A few minutes later, a waiter arrived with a cart full of exotic dishes and an ice-cold bottle of Dom Pérignon.
Once we were alone, you undressed too and lay down next to me.
Feeling a little better, I took one of your hands and began to trace its contours.
I enjoyed tickling you in the strangest, most unimaginable ways, and you let me do it—as long as you could stand it.
However, your state of mind that evening prevented you from relaxing as much as you would have liked; you were worried about my health.
“Honey, what’s happening to you?” you asked me anxiously, snapping me out of the world where I’d momentarily taken refuge.
I thought about it for a minute before answering: “Okay, I’ll try to make it clear to you: it’s just that it doesn’t feel real that you’re here with me; I can no longer tell reality from fantasy. I’ve lived too long psychologically distant from everyone,
and now I find myself living a dream and I feel disoriented. I no longer know if you’re real or just a figment of my imagination. I love you so much it makes me sick, and I’m always afraid of losing you—not because you might leave me, but because something bad might happen to you or to me.
And this state of mind is physically destroying me!”
The very thought was bringing tears to my eyes, and so that you wouldn’t notice my despair, I buried my face in the pillow.
“You just need a lot of love,” you told me, stroking my back, “and I can give you all the love you deserve: I love you, and I want to see you at peace and happy.”
Your caresses were sending indescribable shivers through me, drawing me closer to a precipice whose bottom I couldn’t see. As I turned toward you, I wondered if, once I fell into it, I would finally spread my wings.
“Honey, I’m sorry that because of me we couldn’t go to the party,” I said, genuinely sorry.
“Darling,” you murmured softly, “if you only knew how happy I am right now, you wouldn’t say that—and besides, I think nothing happens by chance.”
Your eyes were stunning; I couldn’t tear myself away from them, and when you pressed your lips against mine, I felt myself about to plunge into the abyss.
I closed my eyes, and once again reality turned into a dream: I was about to take flight, but this time you were by my side.
Your hands on my skin were tracing the contours of my soul.
My arms were turning into wings, my hair was blowing in the wind of your passion, and my body fit perfectly against yours: my alter ego, the impossible love I’d created in my mind, was taking on human form.
The brightest star in the sky was in my arms, and its warmth was melting me.
Tears shyly peeked out from between my eyelashes, but this time you didn’t ask me anything; you knew it was the emotion I felt at being loved and desired, and that I was no longer afraid of losing you.
Those feelings would stay with me until the end of my days; I would never forget them.