I only had to look at him for all the feelings I had felt for him before the departure to re-explode inside me, and especially those I had felt on the night of the aperitif. I remembered the way he had kissed me and brushed against me; the way he had made me feel loved even when we had gotten carried away in making love. His eyes told me nothing, I couldn’t tell if he was happy to see me again or not. I swallowed again and could no longer sustain his gaze, which I lowered to stare at that little skin I had torn off just before. I kept running my fingernail over to flay off something that was no longer there, even though it hurt. I pressed too hard and felt my eyes moisten for pain - or maybe it was for tension.
I tried to hold back a tear but couldn’t stop it from coming out and streaking my face. I didn’t want him to notice and feel pity for me, but the next moment he put two fingers under my chin and gently pulled it up, and it was at that moment that I discovered that his eyes were also shining. He moved his hand from my chin to my cheek and began to wipe away all the other tears that kept coming out in the meantime, just as he had done that famous evening, with the same tenderness and the same look in his eyes. But I was afraid to believe in that look, afraid that it was an illusion, that his tears were not of joy because we had found each other again, but of resignation for what was now too late to build.
He brought his other hand behind the back of my neck and with a sudden gesture pulled me to him and squeezed me, encircling my side. I adhered to his body, and he squeezed eventighter, wrapping his arms around me as if to become one; so, I threw my arms around his neck to feel him as close as I could, to have my cheek tickled by the roughness of his sweater and to inhale the smell of his skin and hair.
The pressure of my body held his swollen breath and stifled his sobs, but in spite of this he held me to him with a firm grip, almost forcing himself, and meanwhile he was crying, and I was crying too, squinting to hold back the emotions that swept away all my resistance. I surrendered to the idea of his love for me, trusted that look I had seen in his eyes just before, let his fingers in my hair be a sign of tenderness and protection.
I felt him take air in from his mouth and take a deep breath, then his lips rested on my cheek, on that strand of beard that had grown with time, and he left a series of scattered kisses that gave me an excited smile. I barely turned my head, but his kisses stopped for a moment before they reached my mouth; we caressed each other with our noses and our lips brushed, without joining. It was at that moment that I moved my head just enough to kiss him, and his mind must have been crossed by the same thought, because we found each other sooner than I had anticipated.
His lips were as soft as I remembered, and they provoked in me the same desire to belong to him that I had felt the night before my departure; we abandoned all shyness and let that union become deep, but there was no eagerness, there was no need.
Kissing each other seemed almost an old habit we had never lost, being in his arms a primal need. He caressed the back of my neck and I the back of his, as the warmth of that kiss chased away any residual insecurity and let my tears dry on his skin. His embrace, from being as tight and rigid as it was, gradually softened and let it become just our space, the one for both ofus to be in, the one from which neither of us would ever escape again.
My lips continued to slide over his and his over mine, until the contact between our tongues diminished, until it disappeared, our mouths to find each other one last time before we blew out a laugh. We reopened our eyes and looked at each other, united by that soft embrace of mutual trust, for we no longer needed to suffocate in each other’s grasp to know that neither of us would ever leave again. I wanted to be there for him, he wanted to be there for me, but most of all we wanted to be there forus- a word that in those two and a half months had stopped scaring me. And I knew I didn’t need to tell him for him to realize it; we just knew, because it had always been that way between us. How many things we had said to each other, without a single word!
Alan brought his hands to my hips and shifted his gaze thoughtfully until he brought it back to me. We were about to return to the verbal world, the one where we needed the words, but I didn’t worry about that, because by now we both had the key to those silences of ours, the ones we could now have or not have as we pleased.
“Now that I think about it... how did you get here?”
I thought back to the whole day I had experienced, all the emotions that had passed through me in a constant up and down. A laugh escaped me.
“I got back from California last night,” and at that name his expression barely changed, “I called Ash, and he told me you were here. Then he sent me your address and told me to do what I thought best with it - and here I am.”
It made me smile as, once again, there was Ash’s hand in it. He, however, tightened his lips and fiddled with his hands just as he had done the night of the aperitif. I knew what he was about to ask.
“You’re back - and how long are you staying in New York?”
I shrugged and smiled. “As long as you want. You won’t get rid of me so easily, you know.”
A smile broke out on his face, which within a moment opened completely, and once again I felt that we belonged together. Him and me. Nathan and Alan.
He left a kiss on my cheek and his beard tickled my skin. God, I had missed him. Everything, all about him, completely.
“I also guess I won’t get rid of the smell of your cigarettes...”
I let out a giggle. “Is that a problem?”
He intertwined his hands on my bottom and looked at me with a smile.
“Yes, if you want surprises done right. When I walked in, there was a very strong smell of cigarettes in the hall, and I immediately thought of you. I didn’t think it was possible, but...”
I looked at him interjected for a moment, then burst out laughing because I couldn’t believe it. The smell of my Marlboros - and yes, he had given me such a headache because it stuck to furniture, clothes and so on and so forth. For once it had come in handy! And he was a real detective. Wow.
“Listen, did Ginny bother you?”
“Oh, yes,” I replied, “all the time.”
He nodded and we burst out laughing again. We just couldn’t be serious, but who felt like being serious at that moment?
“Well, at least you met the whole family at once. Good job.”
“Doing stupid things is my specialty, you know.”
He nodded in assent, and we looked at each other for a few seconds, both of us with a dumb grin on our faces. I thought back to all the fear I had had, how I feared he would reject me, and instead there we were, in love, spending Christmas together. What more could I ask for?
“Maybe they will start to report us as missing. And I’m actually very curious to hear all the details of this little adventure of yours.”
“Oh, with pleasure,” I replied, then thought of the table of guests. “And I suspect you’re not the only one.”
Alan blew away a smile, and I hoped to see him smile for a long, long time to come. He removed his hands from behind and handed one to me.
“Well, so...” and my hand intertwined with his, “...shall we go back that way?”
I took a deep breath. “Okay.”
I had never been happier.
