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A light knock on my door distracts me.
“Yes,” I say softly, yet tense. The door opens and it’s Michael again. He comes in and sits next to me. He caresses a stubborn strand of my hair, leans in, smells my hair and places his palm on mine.
“Sam, we can do this. Please, don’t give up on us. We both deserve to be happy. These last two days were very important to me. I’m glad I found you at that café. I feel like it was destiny. Please understand, I’ve been looking for a woman like you who’d save me from this fake and lonely life. I’ve been looking for stability and something normal. Truth is, before your outburst, I thought there was something amazing and sincere between us, but I have to make it very clear to you: I’ve had my fair share of tumultuous and destructive relationships. I’m looking for quiet, happiness, joy, a family, and love that would redefine my existence. I’ve been living my entire life according to other people’s expectations. All I want now is to find a life of truth, bliss, peace and comfort. I’ve grown weary of fighting, please don’t push me away.”
“Michael,” I cut him off. “It’s all sounds great, but I have feelings, too. Do you think I enjoyed having that little outburst in front of you? I’m struggling to control my emotions and all this tension in my body. You deserve someone who can be your life-partner. As much as I want to that person, to travel around the world with you, give my heart to you, and share the road with you through all your journeys. But our lives are so different. I won’t be able to keep up with your demands and your pace, and I do not want my son to become an obstacle that will prevent me from having a relationship. I humbly accept the fact that my choices come at a painful price, but I will never again let Roy suffer from my emotional turmoil. Look at me. Do you think it’s normal that I responded the way I did because of a minor misunderstanding? You have a huge impact on me. I’m afraid to get sucked into a dark pit in your absence.” As usual, I blatantly lie. My fickle thoughts aren’t about Roy or Michael, but rather about his best friend in the whole world. I wonder what Avi is doing right now.
“Never mind, let’s forget about it. This has nothing to do with you or us. It must be because I’ve been oversensitive lately. I truly apologize for being so dramatic.”
He hugs me.
“You’re lovely and very dear to me,” he wipes my tears away. “You can’t scare me off; I want you and will be very happy to meet your sweet son. I promise you nothing will hold me back.” He kisses me.
“How’s Avi doing?” I dare ask.
“Maybe we can all hang out together? We’ll have a smoke, chat a bit and spend the night together? It could help all three of us, relieve some of the tension. What do you say?”
Before he could even finish speaking, I’m already out of bed, leaving the satin cover crumpled. I wear the slippers Michael had lent me and don’t even bother to wear any pants under the shirt he had given me. I run around, collecting the cigarettes, my phone and the lighter. Michael grabs my arms, pulls me closer to him, give me another kiss, this time on my cheek, and then we head out to the place where my heart beats like a drum.
Chapter 8
Avi’s bedroom door opens and we enter his room. He’s sitting there on an impressive wooden armchair with elaborate carvings, lined in a deep burgundy. He looks like a king of hearts. My thoughts turn toxic and crass by the minute. I immediately start fantasizing about crawling towards him from the very entrance of the room, dressed in minimal clothing. I’d reach him and raise my yearning eyes towards him. He’d gently lift my chin, and peer into my eyes, he’d rise from his chair, hold my hand in his, pull me to him and immediately begin to undress me as he peels off every shred of the anxious and abashed woman that I am, along with my guilt. He gives me a reason to exist. In his arms I feel I can breathe; I’m real, alive, and my heart pounds in my chest.
“Are you still up? I was sure you’d already fallen asleep,” Avi says, his eyes filled with depth and feelings. He stands up, reaches a hand to me and leads me to a different sofa. When I sit down, he lights a joint and then pours some whiskey for me into a lowball glass with ice cubes. He hands me both and says ‘cheers’.
We all clink our glasses together. The marijuana cigarette passes between us, and when we finish it, we light another one. I have an urge to be close to him, and thanks to the smoke clouding the room, I can sit next to him. Absentmindedly, I find my body close to his; too close. ‘I wish he’d fuck me,’ my inner voice utters in an uninhibited and immoral manner. He laughs, curses, and tells jokes, and I do the same, pretending to be focused on what he’s saying instead of the sensations that are spreading through my nether regions. I feel waves of heat pulsating throughout my body. I try to curb myself, press my legs together, and try to clench my pelvic floor to prevent myself from sprawling on the sofa, opening my legs wide, start touching myself slowly and whisper to him ‘fill me up, demolish me, do with me as you will’. In my mind’s eye, I kneel before him, pleading and pining.
“What with you?” Avi’s voice interrupts my taboo thoughts. “Are you asleep? First man down,” he states, laughing out loud and pointing at Michael.
I join him with a gentle and shy giggle.
He turns his head to me. ‘Can he also sense how shamelessly close I am to him,’ I think to myself.
“So, Sam?” Avi looks into my eyes.
“What?” I ask quietly. He must be exhausted; so precious. I immediately stand up and cover him. I kiss his head and, as I do so, I can’t help myself from thinking whether Avi is looking at my behind. I quickly stretch my body to appear more impressive.
He looks at me and smiles silently.
“Perhaps we should leave the room, so we don’t disturb him?” I nod and we both leave the room together. “If you’re not too tired, let’s sit for a short while in the living room,” he suggests, and we quietly head for the living room.
“Avi, you know what, I have a proposition for you,” I start saying. “But I’m not so sure you’ll go along with it. Should I tell you anyway?”
“Okay, now I’m curious,” he becomes serious.
“There’s a very famous Kabbalist in Netivot. Unfortunately, my family has suffered many losses over the years,” I explain. “Sadly, we’re well-aware of your grandmother’s fate, but perhaps we can ask him to pray for her, pray to relieve her suffering so that she may return her soul to the Creator with complete peace and acceptance. Personally, it made me feel stronger during those times. What do you say?”
“It’s a wonderful idea! It’s better than giving in to self-destruction,” he nods. “But are you sure you want to schlep all the way there in the middle of the night? Aren’t you tired?” He gives me a deep and charming look. He swallows me with his gaze.
“Of course!” I reply confidently. “It fills me with a sense of meaning, and perhaps you might get some spiritual closure. It could give you strength and hope.”
“So come on, let’s go right now,” he rushes me as he calls a cab, and we get ready to leave.
“Where to?” the cab driver asks.
“Netivot,” I reply, and we head out. During the drive, we talk about religion, and life, how they are both so fickle. We ask ourselves about the meaning of life and the essence of belief. We contemplate the power one can experience when unloading their agony and associating it with some inexplicable force.
“In any case, we’re all here for a limited time. Despite everything I’ve been through, I’ve always believed there has to be a higher power than us. My grandmother taught me that death has a purpose, too, even though we often don’t see it. She would tell me that everyone has a pre-destined path and that every soul has a purpose and a meaning. It’s impossible to survive without believing that. In my position in the business world, I’ve come across many distinguished individuals, some were religious leaders. I’ve always been very proud of my Jewish identity.”
