From His Lips by Leylah Attar

Author:Leylah Attar [Attar, Leylah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance, love affair, short story, love story, Contemporary
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

*****

“Hey, Bob. It's Troy. Sorry, I’m not going to make it for lunch, but I’ll be by later. No. Everything’s fine. Yeah. See you soon. Thanks.”

I’d called to make sure Ryan’s family didn’t wait for me, but they’d left the door open when I got there. There were no other cars in the driveway so I figured I’d timed it just right.

“Hello?” I called as I let myself in.

No answer.

I walked through the hallway, past the kitchen, and froze when I got to the living room.

Shayda was still here.

And she was looking out to the backyard, through the sliding door.

Why the fuck was she standing there alone? Where was her husband? Why wasn’t she out there with everyone else?

I could see Ryan and Jayne goofing around with hoses in their hands. Then Bob and Lizzie got involved and soon the whole family was running and screaming and getting soaked.

All right! A water fight.

I could do a water fight. I could walk past Shayda, totally unaffected, and join in. This time it was different. This time I was prepared for whatever weird, walloping sensation might hit me, and I was ready to punch that sucker straight back to oblivion.

She didn’t hear me walking up behind her. She was engrossed in the scene before her—all the laughing, hitting, yelling, squealing.

I was about to say something funny and silly and totally absurd. Then I caught her reflection in the glass.

You know those moments in childhood that completely floor you? Like the first time you see a dead bird or a dead squirrel and you realize that things die? You’re momentarily seized with a longing to revert back to a time when you didn’t know, a time of innocence and endless possibilities. That was the longing I saw in Shayda’s eyes as she looked out that door—open, naked, unguarded longing.

I wanted to retrace my steps, wait at the traffic light instead of flooring it to make the amber; I wanted to sleep in a little longer, dally over the phone with my parents, stop at the gas station for chewing gum—anything to go back and add a few more seconds, a few more minutes, because then I would have missed it. The look on her face.

But it was too late. Our eyes met in the reflection as I stood behind her, and the look turned to shame and humiliation. The horror of being caught with your mask down. For a while, she just stood there, like a deer that knows it’s been caught in the hunter’s cross hairs. Then she bolted.

I seized her before she could escape, pinning her against the glass, my hand over hers, so I could anchor her, keep her from getting swept away.

Hey. It’s okay.

She made a small, choking sound when I pulled her away from the sliding door. My arms went around her and her cheek found my chest. And just like that, something fell into place.

All of my wild, crazy exuberance fit perfectly in the quiet crevices of her dreams.

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