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The house smelled of baked goods and hot chocolate. Warm and sweet. Like he would imagine a home to be.
Her fingertips brushed his scalp absently. Familiar.
She was playing with his hair, his head on her lap. Her gentle touch was too distracting. The words of the book he was reading were swirling around in his mind.
Her touch, along with her scent and her body warmth. She was, to be honest, generally distracting.
Especially when she was touching him in this way. Softly, delicately, like he was something precious, important.
He closed his eyes, enjoying the moment silently while she continued to watch her TV series, completely absorbed in the story.
He used to hate this. Physical touch. Showing affection in that way. In fact, he used to avoid it like the plague.
Quick hugs and handshakes were formalities that he executed without thinking, ignoring the person in front of him. He had to, because this was how it was supposed to be. After all, in those moments, his existence didn’t matter. He was an object, a thing his father would parade at his social gatherings. Pretending to be father and son. Pretending to be a family. While the people around them pretended to believe it.
An idiotic stage play.
Just to be alone again, lost in that cold and massive house. Eating alone. Drinking alone. Ignoring each other, passing by each other without looking even once.
“Felix, you’re frowning.”
He opened his eyes to meet hers. Her thumb moved up and down, from his forehead to the bridge of his nose, trying to ease his expression.
Judging by the concern in her bright blue eyes, his frown must have been quite serious.
“What were you thinking about?”
“About the past. The ugly part of it.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” She twirled a strand of his hair.
No, he didn’t. Because it didn’t matter. Not anymore.
He escaped from that life. From that darkness that haunted him as a child, and the loneliness that devoured his insides as a young boy. Because it was over.
“I would rather not. It would bring more memories back.”
Felix took her hand.
Now he had someone who loved him. He was important to someone. And his fears stopped corrupting his mind every second.
He was safe. He was happy.
And he was stupidly in love.
He kissed her wrist, his lips touching her pulse point slowly, prolonging the moment.
“I love you…” he whispered, still holding her hand.
He had for a long time. Maybe from the moment she took his hand for the first time, awakening things in him he didn’t know about, making him, for the first time, crave touch and love, terrifying him like nothing else.
That electric feeling when her fingers brushed his skin lingered for a long time after she let him go. And he couldn’t shake it off. It felt like it had been imprinted into his body. To be forever part of him, even after she let him go.
Because she did. After a time. After he pulled her close to him, just so he could push her away again. In need of her but too scared to commit. Waiting for her eyes to be on him, but too afraid to look into them. Waiting for her closeness but having no idea how to handle his emotions. Emotions he had no idea he could have, which aggravated the pain he was hiding deep inside, buried in the back of his mind, behind all the lies.
She stood in front of him on the last day of high school. Her hair in pigtails, her eyes teary, and her voice shaking. Apologizing for annoying him all those times. For being a burden. For making things hard for him. And Felix stood there, silent. And his heart twisted tighter and tighter with every word until it broke into curvy and bloody shards, while all of its blood rushed to his head, making him dizzy, leaving his hands cold and paralyzed.
While he was slowly dying, watching her smile. A smile full of sadness. A smile he couldn’t handle.
She let him go. Leaving him with so many regrets. With a dry mouth and stones in place of legs.
He couldn’t say anything.
“Felix, stop thinking. You look like you’re going to cry soon.”
He laughed. “I was remembering our high school days.”
“Do you have good memories in your head?” She tapped his forehead playfully. “It’s Valentine’s Day! Remember our date, our first kiss, how you almost dropped me on our wedding night? Anything nice?”
“I tripped!”
“Yes, sure,” she teased him.
“And our first date happened after I literally stalked you for weeks! I didn’t even plan to ask you out when I finally spoke to you that day. I wanted to ask something basic, like what you were studying or something.”
She messed up his hair in revenge. “How romantic! That’s why you didn’t even know what place to take me to?”
“Hey, hey! In my defense, I wouldn’t know where to take anyone on a date.”
“You’re not helping your case, darling.”
He rose and turned to face her. Her hair was loose, falling over her small shoulders. Her round cheeks were rosy, and her eyes sparkled with amusement and mischief.
“Do you have anything to say about our first kiss?”
It was his first kiss. He had no idea what to do. It was silly, awkward, and embarrassing. She smiled and giggled before she took control, showing him how a kiss was supposed to be. How it was supposed to feel. And he felt it in his whole body, making his insides simmer, his blood grow too hot, his clothes too tight.
“Bridgette, are you mad at me or something? You keep bringing up my silliest moments.”
“Would you like me to remind you how you—”
“No, I wouldn’t!”
She wrapped her arms around his neck.
“You didn’t even let me finish! Maybe I had something good.”
“About me falling off the bed after our first night? Or was it about how I broke a lightbulb while trying to open the champagne bottle? Or, wait! I know! It was when I dropped that damn cake on your birthday.”
Bridgette laughed, her body shaking with amusement.
“No, no, I was thinking about how you stammered through your confession.”
“Oh, God! Please don’t!”
“Why not? You were adorable!”
He pulled her closer by the waist. “Bridgette, what did I do to deserve this? I did everything right today, no?”
“You are thinking too much.”
“For God’s sake, Bridgette! I always think too much. If that were truly the problem, you’d be upset with me every day.”
She stroked his cheek with her thumb, slowly.
“For you, those memories are embarrassing, but for me, those moments made me fall in love with you even more.”
Felix swallowed hard. “Even when I let go of your hand? Or when I freaked out during our first Christmas?”
Bridgette shifted her legs so she could get closer to him, a few inches from his face. “Yes, even those. They may not all be happy moments, but those were your vulnerable ones, and they helped me understand you better. And at the end of them, you always hold me like I’m going to disappear the next second.”
It did feel like it could happen. He messed up so many times when his feelings would become too much, when his past would try to come back, when something brought him back to the loneliness of his childhood.
“You are thinking again!”
He smiled. “I apologize, my love. Is it enough? Should I get on my knees so you can forgive me and stop torturing me?”
She thought for a second. “I haven’t seen you on your knees since you proposed. Do you remember that?”
Yes, he did. It happened right there, after a home-cooked dinner and two glasses of wine. And he almost lost his balance twice.
He swore to God he wasn’t a clumsy person! She had put some kind of spell on him because it always happened when they were alone, and his heart was in his throat. All their emotional moments were full of him panicking and making mistakes.
At least he didn’t mix up his vowels.
Bridgette smiled. “But I have a better idea. Stop reminiscing about the past and kiss me!”
How could he say no to that request? He cupped her face and kissed her.
Their first kiss was mostly his lips brushing against hers, shyly. His hands were shaking and sweaty; he didn’t even dare to put them on her cheeks. Instead, Felix rested them on her shoulders and bent down, nervous. And she allowed him to do so, patient, with her eyes closed.
Just like she was allowing him to deepen their kiss, his left hand moved to the back of her head, keeping her steady so he could taste the sweetness of her mouth.
“Let’s go to bed…” she whispered breathlessly.
“Why? Is the couch too uncomfortable to kiss on?”
She escaped his embrace and got up, trying to drag him by the arm.
“You know why!”
Bridgette's cheeks were flushed, the redness slowly taking over her face. Her lips were swollen from the kiss, and her pupils were dilated. Felix liked her like that, in a weird caveman way.
“We have been married for years, and you still can’t say it?” he teased while getting up.
She dropped his arm and pouted. “I think I changed my mind. This is all you get today!”
Felix laughed and pulled her into his arms, kissing her again and again, until her shoulders relaxed and she became soft and amenable. And way too dizzy to think about anything but his presence.
So he picked her up, her giggles filling the silence of the house. The book and the show, long forgotten in the living room.