Page 199 of Two Marlboros

He finally let go of that irritating pose and regained the sweet tone he had always had toward me; he reached over and placed both thumbs on my cheeks, then moved them outward.

“And I don’t want you to cry either.”

That affectionate gesture was enough to make me immediately aware of all the tears that, after an initial moment of uncertainty, were now streaming down my face, tears that he was trying to wipe away with his fingers and for which he suddenly took charge with kisses on my cheek where he was wet. The ground trembled under my feet until it ripped open, and I ended up inside that valley of love in which he was enveloping me, and I felt relaxed, protected, almost safe from any danger out there, with a gesture that no one had ever reserved for me, attention that no one had ever deemed me worthy of. Alan’s lips were moist and soft, and in feeling them settle on my skin I realized that what I had always wanted from him was not a kiss or even sex, for that was something I could have with ease from anyone. What I wanted was that tender love that he had always conveyed to me with gestures like that, that caring for me, that making me feel important. Because maybe I was to him a little bit, and he was to me.

He continued to brush away my tears until I had calmed down and a smile broke out, for his hands were smooth just as I imagined before; he left a peck on my nose and laid his forehead on mine.

“Sorry. Is that better?”

There was just a paltry space to separate us, space that, if consummated, would turn us from friends to lovers, a space where there was only the sound of our breaths, because our eyes had already eaten it for a lifetime.

In nodding I rubbed my nose on his, then barely moistened my lips and took a breath without making a sound, with the thought that this would be the one, the one that wouldconsecrate us as “more than friends.” I could hear him breathing, I could hear him hesitating; I listened to every noise he made, like the fluctuating intensity of his exhale or the imperceptible snap of those lips barely opening. I smelled the scent of his skin and cologne as I felt the presence of his forehead on me and the warmth of his hands on those cheeks he had soothingly consoled. I closed my eyes, thinking that before long I would stop hearing him breathe through my mouth because he would be too busy closing mine, lips on lips.

My expectations were betrayed again when I felt his forehead move away, triggering such embarrassment in me that I opened my eyelids again at the speed of light, whereupon he returned to look at me from a distance that was anything but intimate. On my face appeared a disappointed expression, without me being able to stop it, but he once again did not flinch and, indeed, smiled.

“So, what are your plans for the evening?” he asked.

He slid his hands behind my neck and that gesture caused me to shiver, then waited for my answer. I remained interjected a few seconds, thinking it was a joke. We were so close to kissing - as we were every single time, by the way - and now he was asking me for my plans for the evening. I began to think he needed a little drawing, because it was really impossible that he didn’t understand.

...Oh. Of course. Heunderstood, he understood just fine. I was the one who was confused. Did he have something in mind? Maybe a better or more romantic situation? Or was it the usual war between heart and reason?

“I don’t know, I thought we could have fun somewhere.”

Nelly’s words came back to my mind, and her proposal seemed like a good idea. Alan pretended to think for a moment, after which he leaned close to my ear.

“And in what way would you like to have fun?” he whispered, and I seemed to discern a hint of mischief in his eyes and in the tone of his voice, mischief that he did not show otherwise, however. Had I dreamed it?

The smell of his cologne came back to tease me, and I was almost tempted to blow off Nelly’s idea and take the short route, but I had a right to keep him on his toes a bit and tried to play along with that game I hoped I hadn’t just imagined.

“Look I was talking about real fun, you know? There’s live music in Central Park tonight, if you’re interested, we can drop by there.”

He chuckled softly and lowered his eyes, and I thought I could spot a slight blush on his cheeks, but it was hard to tell. His face became relaxed again, as it had been before the others arrived. Perhaps it was due to the tension we had discharged, perhaps to the alcohol, but he seemed satisfied with that response.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen this mischievous look on your face,” he then said.

I flushed and thought that the alcohol was having more effect on him than expected, and that in all likelihood I had only dreamed that ambiguous tone about the word “fun”. He let a sideways smile escape, to which I responded by doing the same. The next moment I thought that Alan, in the past, had dispensed smiles with an eyedropper, and I felt somehow witness to a miracle.

“So, you’re okay with that?”

He nodded, unclasped his hands from behind my neck and brought them down to my hips.

“I’ll follow you.”

We could have taken the subway to Central Park, but we had decided to get off a couple of stops earlier and walk on. It was tooquiet in the subway, and I felt like talking and he seemed to want to do the same. By the time we got out of the station, to avoid getting lost in the mess, he had taken my hand and never let go, not even when we were alone walking on the sidewalk.

The moment his fingers had brushed against mine, I had felt my body sink back into that valley of love that was all and only for me. And even at that moment, when he had decided to intertwine our fingers, I lost a pulse and my cheeks flushed. I still couldn’t believe that Alan was doing all that for me, despite my leaving, in spite of the memory of Oliver, who certainly hadn’t disappeared all of a sudden. He was letting himself go, and had chosen me to do so; likewise, I had chosen him, to whom I wanted to give my heart, if only for an evening.

Darkness had already fallen, but the cars and restaurants were taking care of that city’s lights not going out. We walked slowly, as if it had been a new sight, and not the one we had seen every night, attentive or distracted, in the last years of our lives. And indeed, it had a different flavor, or perhaps I could have said it had a different perspective, because I caught myself looking up to notice the lights, the neon signs of the stores or even just outlining Alan’s profile with my gaze. He was looking ahead and enjoying the show without saying anything, but I knew that even that silence was part of the beauty of that moment. For our hands were enough to unite us, to make us now closer and now farther apart, in a moving apart and then finding each other again, but never really separating.

We crossed the threshold of Central Park with smiles on our faces and one too many glances that made us both laugh, though he always did it so modestly. Alan stopped and stared at nothing, looking perhaps for those words we had not said to each other on the way.

“You know,” he whispered, planting his eyes in mine, “I’m really happy for you.”

“For leaving, you mean?”

He nodded and left me bewildered. I had not expected him to say anything about my departure, let alone be happy about it.

“Yes. I actually think it might be a good opportunity for you to get a few things straightened out. Although in my opinion you’re already doing that.”

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