Chapter 21: Killing Me Softly
They had met at a coffee house just by chance.
She had dropped her coffee cup in what he had later found out was uncharacteristic clumsiness and he had turned around to help her. He had gone and told the manager and had then come back with napkins to wipe up the mess on the floor. He would have likely done that for anyone who had had a similar fate; it had been nothing special about her that had drawn his attention or his assistance. Until of course, he noticed that her hands which held the napkins were trembling slightly. He had only looked up to her face then, but she had still not looked at him. She seemed to want to draw no notice to her at all and he had a feeling that maybe he frightened her. And thus he had picked up the wet napkins and had walked away without saying anything else to her. He had doubted that she had even noticed what he looked like, but evidently she had, as she told him later. She had said that it was the first time anyone had offered her help without expecting anything in return. And he had told her that there were many others who would do the same as what he did, that what he had done was not anything special at all. And she had disagreed. She had told him that a truly unselfish human being, one who would do something with no expectation in return, not even a word of gratitude, was nearly impossible to find. She had told him that even the Gods wished for gratitude, so what chance did a mere mortal stand? He had thought that she was overly pessimistic, not that he could blame her. And she had wondered how he could be so optimistic when he had a sire who was the most amoral brute this side of the state. He had said nothing in response, as he himself had not known the answer to that…
He is always lying, no matter what…
He now thought that maybe optimism was a manner of lying… in face of all evidence to support otherwise, if you insisted on holding out hope for something that would most likely never be… isn't that lying?
He saw his wife's face in his mind suddenly… the vulnerability that he had seen in her eyes when he had pressed her to remain with him and to indulge him in one of her puzzles…
What the hell had he been doing?
He had relaxed too much into their camaraderie with each other that he had allowed himself to forget that they were not just friends in truth, that there was another tie that bound them that had not exactly come about from free will… he was lying again… he told himself to stop. He was a grown man; no one could get him to do anything that he did not want to do. He should just admit to himself that no matter how infinitesimal, there had been a part of him that had acknowledged that he was dying slowly from loving Salome…
Edited by sridevi27 - 14 years ago