***
2015
"Before I fell in love with words, with setting skies and singing birds - it was you I fell in love with first."
Lang Leav, Love & Misadventure
It is a terribly hot November morning when Swayum hastily climbs the stairs to Sharon's apartment. Her apartment is on the top floor, and he cannot be bothered to wait for the elevator. The quicker he gets upstairs, the sooner he can see his girlfriend. A day without her is far too long, and he has been away for three.
He thinks of Sharon every moment that he is away from her. He thinks of her smile and her sparkling eyes. He misses her laughter, her kisses, and even the way she argues with him. Three days without her feels like a lifetime to him. He along with Rey and Nil had gone to Goa to do some dance workshops for the locals in an effort to promote their dance academy. He did ask Sharon to come with them, but she was caught up with work.
He is used to it now. His girlfriend has a hectic work life and her job requires long hours and late nights, but he does not complain because he can see that she enjoys it. Sharon proves to be a talented financial analyst. Despite being the youngest team member in the finance department at Diwan Industries, Sharon creates an impression with her resourcefulness and quick wit. Organised and meticulous, she is fast, efficient and completely business minded. It runs in her blood, and her colours shine the most when she is under pressure.
Despite their busy work schedules, they do their best to make time for each other and for their friends. They have slowly fallen into a comfortable routine, and Swayum is mighty impressed with the way Sharon manages to juggle work, dance classes and their social life all together. Their life is not completely devoid of romance. Some evenings, when Sharon is working in her study, Swayum surprises her with Thai take-away and a bottle of her favourite red wine. He likes to kiss her ink-stained fingers and watch her blush. Then they dance together, spinning in each other's arms and they are lost to the world, for the night.
He is still smiling at the memory when he reaches Sharon's apartment and rings the bell.
"Hey Jeeju," Sara winks at him, opening the door wide and stepping aside. "You're just in time for my low-fat sugar-free chocolate brownies."
Swayum tries not to gag at the mention of Sara's cooking. If there is one thing that is similar between the sisters, it is their awful cooking. It is no wonder that the two of them survive on fruits, salads and protein shakes. "I'll pass. More for Sergio right?"
"Right," Sara nods enthusiastically, almost swooning at the mention of her brand new Russian boyfriend, who happens to be a Calvin Klein underwear model. Ever since they have met on a photo shoot for Vogue, the two have been smitten with each other.
Swayum smiles at her. He can almost see the hearts in her eyes as she stares dreamily into the distance. He lets her daydream, and wanders into the living room. Making himself comfortable on the lounge closest to the glass wall, Swayum admires the serene beach view front. This is one of his most favourite places to be.
Sharon's eighteenth floor penthouse is a swanky five bedroom suite with an indoor gym, five bathrooms and a cinema room. It is extravagant, and beautiful just like its owners. Sharon and Sara have decorated their home tastefully, with luxurious furnishings in a black and white art deco theme. The spacious rooms and open plan living only adds to the glamour of the apartment.
But it is the wonderful view that attracts Swayum. The glass wall in Sharon's living room is like the mirror to her soul. He loves to sit here with Sharon in his arms and watch the waves crash against the shore. He feels peaceful, complete when it is just the two of them sitting there together. It is in these moments of tranquillity, that he learns the most about Sharon. Her mask is down, and her soul is left unguarded as she stares into the distance and smiles.
"Sara, where's Sharon? Is she still at Pilates?"
"In her bedroom," She replies, taking a tray of her brownies out of the oven. "She's too busy packing."
There is a moment of silence as Swayum tries to wrap his head around what she is saying. Before he can inquire further, Sara clatters around the kitchen loudly.
"I can't believe she's leaving. I'm going to miss her so much." She sniffles, before dropping her tray on the cooling rack and rushing off to the bathroom, eyes red.
His heart lurches at her words. What did she mean by that? Why would she miss Sharon? It's not like she was going anywhere. Forever resilient, Swayum brushes off the doubt quickly. Most of the time, even Sara has no clue what she is saying.
Chuckling, Swayum makes his way past the kitchen and through the corridor to Sharon's room. He is hit by dj vu when he walks into Sharon's bedroom to find her bent over a suitcase. "Why are you packing?"
"I'm going to London," she answers without preamble.
Swayum tries to mask his dejection, "For work? When will you be back?"
"Next November," she replies simply.
"What?" He thinks he must have heard her wrong. Surely, she did not say next November, but his heart is quickly sinking as he catalogues the large amount of personal belongings filling her suitcases.
"I got accepted into Oxford's MBA program," she explains wearily. "The accelerated program takes twelve months."
"When do you leave?"
"In two days."
"How long have you known?" Swayum asks calmly, barely holding back the storm raging inside him.
She sighs. She does not want to add insult to injury, but it is time to come clean. "I applied in June. I received the confirmation in September."
There is an awkward silence that fills the room as Swayum glares at Sharon accusatorily and she carefully avoids his gaze, busying herself in retrieving more clothes from her closet.
"Were you even going to tell me?"
"Don't be dramatic," Sharon rolls her eyes, trying to remain detached and composed. "I would have told you tonight. I didn't want to see you upset. You've had a lot going on the last few months." It is lame excuse, and she knows that he knows it too. Truth be told, she has been trying to delay this moment for as long as possible, just so she does not have to disappoint him.
He is quiet. Her sarcasm, her biting tone is only a defence mechanism. She does not want him to see just how troubled she feels about leaving him, but he knows her better than she knows herself and he knows that this is difficult for both of them, no matter what she says.
Sharon turns away from him and clutches the handle of her closet, with her vice like grip. She tries to calm her breathing. She tries to stay strong, but her walls are crumbling fast around her. Her heart throbs painfully in her chest every time his distraught face flashes before her eyes.
There is so much she wants to say to him - so many complaints, too many apologies that she wants make. She is irrational, she is impulsive and she has always taken him for granted. He has never protested - but he should. The quiet in the room only fuels her fire. Why won't he just yell at her? She wants him to scream, to shout at her. She wants to hear him say that he won't let her leave.
But the storm never comes. His patience, his sheer will power always wins out against his more primal instincts. She smiles bitterly to herself. Sometimes, she wonders if he is even human, for no man could possibly have so much patience, so much charity in his heart.
If she believed in fate, then she would think that they are simply not destined to be happy together. But Sharon only believes that she creates her own destiny, and this is her, carving a future for herself. She is not blind to his devotion. He loves her so much so that it is consuming him. When all he thinks of is her, when all he wants is her - where does he find time for himself, for his own dreams?
So this is her, freeing him.
They are both content with the life they are living, but they are not happy. There is a significant difference between the two. They are at a standstill and this is the only way, she can think to move forward.
"Aren't you happy for me, Swayum?" Sharon implores softly, finally meeting his eyes for the first time that afternoon. "Aren't you happy that I'm finally doing something with my life?"
Sharon watches him struggle with his feelings. He is an honest man. Too honest, too simple. He wears his heart on his sleeve and she wishes he didn't. It makes him too open, too vulnerable, and she does not want him to be hurt. Ironically, it is she, who always manages to hurt him the most. She never intends to, but it happens.
"You know I am," he sighs sadly. "I just wish you'd told me sooner." He wants to yell her, to be angry at her, but he can't. He knows that he is at fault. She should not have to tell him these things, he should already know. It is testament, to how far they have drifted apart, how far she has pushed him away, and how far he has let her go.
"I was scared you wouldn't let me go," she replies softly.
But I have Sharon. I have let you go too far already.
Sighing, he reaches out for her and takes her into his arms. She is warm, pliant and smells like home. "I'm going to miss you so much," he whispers into her neck.
"It's only a year," she breathes against the sharp, defined edges of his collarbone. She does not know if she consoling him, or herself.
Instead of replying, Swayum pulls back and cups her beautiful face in his hands. He stares into her stunning green eyes, and he is close enough to see every stria of glittering gold in her iris. Slowly, gently, his hands map out her face, stroking her soft, warm skin. When he kisses her cheek, her eyes flutter before closing, long dark lashes sweeping against her high cheek-bone. She is so beautiful, and his heart lurches at the thought of not being able to see her, touch her for a whole year. He presses kisses against her closed eyelids, on her nose, trying the curb the despair spreading through him like poison in his veins.
Lightly, his fingertips trace over her lips as he tries to memorize her face with his fingers and lips. He pauses his fondling and her eyes flicker open in question. Good. He wants her to see him, when he kisses her and he can see the acknowledgement in her eyes. She knows that he wants to kiss her. As he leans into her, he senses no hesitation, rather a quiet anticipation as she parts her lips in encouragement. It is all the invitation he needs, as his mouth finds hers eagerly. His mouth is warm, insistent on hers; almost as if he is trying to devour her very soul in the kiss. She tastes like warm vanilla and he cannot get enough of her warmth or her taste.
Taken aback by his passion, Sharon lets him have his way with her. As he sucks, and nips at her hungrily, she realises that this is the despair, the longing that he feels. She realises that this might be the last time, she is ever able to do this with him. To be here with him in his arms, with him kissing her so ardently.
Who knows what might happen in a year?
She kisses back fiercely. She lets him know that she feels the same yearning, the same anguish that he is suffering. Weaving her fingers through his hair, she holds him to her mouth and urges him to stay there, to give and take.
But then he slows down the pace, kissing her languidly like he is savouring the taste of her. He brands her with soft, slow, sweet kiss after kiss, one hand in her silky hair, the other holding her tightly by the waist. Sharon can feel her heart breaking. She can cope with the passion, but this - this is pure love. He is pouring his love, his heart and soul into every touch, his every kiss and Sharon is overwhelmed by how much he feels, how much he aches for her.
"Don't make this harder for me," she pleads, trying valiantly to hold back her tears. How can she possibly walk away from him? How will she live without him for a whole year? The gravity of her decision finally sinks in and she desperately tries to hold back the wave of tears threatening to push forward.
"Okay," he concedes, after pressing one last chaste kiss on her lips before pulling back. His arms are still around her and he holds her close, inhaling her distinctive fruity scent. "I love you," he murmurs frantically.
"I know."
He wants her to stay, but the request falls short on his lips. Sharon is destined to reach heights. A woman like her only deserves to be at the top. How can he hold her back when she is finally realising her dreams? This is the Sharon he fell in love with so many years ago - passionate, ambitious, with the confidence and tenacity to reach the sky. It does not matter how much he'll miss her. It does not matter how much he wants her to stay because he loves her enough to let her go.
"Come back to me, okay?" He says with an almost feverish urgency, as if they are here on borrowed time. "Promise me, that you'll come back to me."
And finally the dam within her chest breaks and she throws herself back into his arms, her tears soaking the front of his shirt. "I promise," she hugs him tightly and sobs into his chest, "I promise I'll come back to you."
They stand there together for what seems like an eternity, but time is irrelevant to them. They have found each other against all odds and they will do it again. He knows they will.
He will wait for her, even if it takes his entire lifetime.
Edited by Propinquity. - 9 years ago
comment:
p_commentcount