The Air Between The Silence

Maya sat at her favorite table with a cup of tea instead of her usual coffee staring at her phone. She took a breath, flipped over the phone, and opened to the first page of the book she brought with her. She fiddled with the top right corner of the page but instead of turning to a page with words she stared at the blankness, her right leg twitching under the round wood table. Finally, she closed her eyes and took a long intentional deep breath. The coffee scented air filling her lungs, hold for five four three two one and release, she grounded herself in a five second meditation.

She glanced out the window and an automatic smile came across her face when she saw Frank casually walking by towards the entrance. He wore a long gray peacoat and a black knitted hat. They locked eyes and he winked at her. She took another short breath as she watched him round the corner. He wanted to know her decision, but she had no idea what she was going to tell him. She knew what she should tell him, but she didn’t know if that’s what she really wanted.

***

The weekend right before she met Frank, she’d been so excited that her naturally kinky hair had grown long enough that she could finally get it braided with extensions. She was finally able to feel hair on her neck and back again even though it was synthetic. The look made her look younger and healthier. It gave her a confidence she hadn’t had in nearly two years. She wore a pair of lavender yoga pants and an off the shoulder oversized white t-shirt. It was a casual look, but it made her feel like one of those housewives of some place cool. She added a pair of knockoff pearl earrings and a light layer of pink gloss that complimented her deep brown complexion. As she looked herself up and down in the full-length mirror of her bedroom, she was excited about how great she looked. Now all that was left to do was wait for Malcom’s call before leaving the house.

It was a Monday, just after noon in the middle of July. The sun was shining strong but there was a consistent breeze that seemed to wrap around her at just the perfect times. The twenty-minute walk to the Coffee Lovers Café had become a daily ritual for her. It was her way of making sure she got some exercise and some fresh air while also rewarding herself with a daily treat. After ordering one of their delicious coffee concoctions and a little something sweet, she’d sit and read until she got tired of sitting. Then she’d walk twenty minutes back home. She didn’t tell Malcom about her daily walks. He’d only worry about her and his worrying would ruin this new found ritual she’d come to love. 

She sat by the window sipping her iced mocha latte with cold foam, picking at a vanilla scone, while completely wrapped up in a romance novel by her favorite author. 

Frank was very tall with long dread locks that reached the middle of his back, skin the color of honey and an English accent that made her tingle. 

“Are you a fan of those books or a first-time reader?” His question caught her off guard and she was a little annoyed by the interruption until she looked up and saw his dimpled smile outlined by a thin goatee. She stared at him completely unaware of herself.

“Are you a fan of those books or are you a first-time reader?” He repeated and that time she noticed the accent and felt an unexpected sensation of butterflies.

She cleared her throat, “Uh Evelyn Brown, uh yea she’s my favorite.”

“What is it about these books that you like so much? They’re so unrealistic. I mean I understand that it is fiction but they’re always so predictable.”

“I think that’s what is so appealing. It’s knowing that these characters that you’ve gotten attached to, no matter what they go through there’s going to be a happy ending. It’s entertaining, it’s not the type of story that’s going to leave me with more questions than answers at the end.”

“Ah so you probably wouldn’t like my book.”

“Your book?”

“Yes, I wrote a novel. It’s picking up a bit of traction in the UK but I doubt if any Americans have heard of me.”

Maya could tell he wasn’t trying to brag. He said it very matter-of-factly as if he was talking about a job at a bank. “What’s your name?”

“Franklin but I go by Frank. And your name?”

“Nice to meet you Franklin,” she gave him a flirtatious smile that caught her off guard, “My name is Maya.”

The conversation between her and Frank was easy and fun. It had an air of familiarity like old friends reconnecting. He was a published author, one who refused to tell her the title of his book, a topic they kept coming back to over the course of their three-hour conversation. As a professor of literary fiction who read romance novels as a guilty pleasure, she had more in common with Frank than anyone else in her life.

Frank knew nothing about the past two years. He looked at her and saw her as the confident healthy woman who had left the house that day.

Malcom had been there with her through the toughest time of her life. He held her hand through the diagnosis, he sat by her side as liters of poison were pumped into her veins. He was the one to gently shave her head while she silently wept and gave her a strong hug afterwards. He had been her rock, but she also knew that her rock had been laying with other women.

She’d lost every ounce of sex drive she’d ever had once the treatments started. Malcom had always had a voracious sex-drive, one that she had struggled to match even when she was healthy. One night as they cuddled and she could feel his desire pressing on her back, she whispered, “I’m sorry I can’t give you what you need but if it ever gets to be too much, I give you permission to go outside and handle your business with whomever, just make sure you come back to me.”

He was quiet for a while before he whispered, “Nah,” and squeezed her tighter.

She’d given him permission and it wasn’t something she regretted, but now that she was on the other side of dying, she felt stronger more alive than she ever had and Malcom still saw her as sick. The two times she tried to initiate intimacy he’d unknowingly hurt her with his concerned rejection, “Nah baby just save your strength. We can wait.” It seemed no matter what she did he didn’t see her anymore.

In comparison Frank made her feel alive, while Malcom only reminded her that she had been sick. He treated her like a fragile doll as if at any moment she would be dying again. Their relationship spanned seven years, with three years of marriage, and two years shadowed by her illness. She loved him but she also didn’t want to dilute the experience of living life anew out of obligation. 

***

She inhaled his scent as he bent down to kiss her on the cheek. She put her arms around his neck feeling as if she already missed him. She turned her face to find his lips, connecting to them for a brief moment before he stepped back to remove his coat and take a seat beside her.

They sat quiet for a long while, neither one wanting to ruin the moment with such a depressing conversation. He took her hand, “How are you?”

“I’ve been better.”

His face was solemn, “I see.”

More silence sat between them, both of them finding any and everything to look at besides each other.

“A new one huh?” He said, pointing to her book.

“Yea it’s the sequel to the last book.”

Finally, he said it, “What are we going to do?”

“I’m not sure I’m the type of woman who could leave her husband without a bigger reason.”

“Loving me isn’t a big enough reason?”

She didn’t know how to respond. She’d promised Malcom forever. He was a good man; he didn’t deserve for her to break that promise. “I meant something like abuse as a bigger reason. Malcom has never laid a finger on me. He’s a good man and I’ve only known you four months. I can’t justify leaving him.”

“So, this is it then?”

She felt a pang in her heart at the thought of never seeing him again. He’d been everything she needed in the past few months. Their affair had been purely emotional, and Maya knew if they ever crossed the line into the physical she’d never be able to go back and try to fix her marriage.

They sat in silence, his finger grazing across her hand, a moment of final connection. After several moments he stood up, put his coat back on and kissed her hand. “It’s been a pleasure” and then he walked away.

It’s okay. It’s for the best, she told herself on a repeated loop for nearly ten minutes after he left. It wasn’t working but she needed to believe it.

She sat there for over an hour, going through the first stages of grief. By the time she made it home, she was deep in the thick of the depression stage, trying to will herself to reach acceptance before Malcom got home.

***

As they sat in front of the TV rewatching an episode of Family Matters and eating take out from a nearby Italian restaurant, Maya’s guilt festered. She looked at her husband and searched for the love she knew she still had for him. It was still there, just a bit lost.

“I think we need to start going to couple’s counseling,” she blurted out in the middle of Steve professing his love to Laura for the millionth time.

Malcom’s face was a mix of shock and confusion. “Couple’s counseling?”

“Yes, couple’s counseling. Malcom, we haven’t been connecting for a long time now and you know it.”

“Okay and you think the only way to connect is to ask someone to be a third party in our relationship.”

“Well yes, I think we need a professional.”

“Maya I’m sitting right here, just tell me what’s on your mind. We do not need to spend hundreds on some counselor.”

She sighed, she didn’t want to tell him, not without the help of some professional in the room. “For one you haven’t touched me over two years.”

He let out a frustrated groan and set his tray on the coffee table. “Maya you’ve been sick. I’ve been patient. How could that be a problem?”

“I’ve been healthy for months now and you don’t want me.”

He closed his eyes as if he was getting ready to pray, a look of guilt on his face.

He doesn’t love me anymore. That thought was even more painful than having to let go of Frank.

“It’s true, you don’t want me. You don’t love me anymore.”

The air between them was thick making it hard for her to take a deep breath. It wasn’t anything like the soft bittersweet air she shared with Malcom earlier. Her heart felt like it was beating too fast and too slow at the same time, and she didn’t know what to do.

She put her hand on her chest and willed herself to breathe. She took in short bursts of air, breathe, breathe, breathe she quietly repeated to herself.

When she felt calm, she finally looked up and saw tears in her husband’s eyes for the second time since she’d known him. She stared at him, not knowing what to say, waiting for him to ask for a divorce. She decided she wanted everything to be cordial. Maybe they could even be friends down the line.

“I’ve been lying to you for a very long time. I mean really, I was lying to myself for a long time, but that night when you gave me permission to handle my business, I didn’t think I was going to do anything. I loved you. I still love you.”

“You still love,” she whispered more to herself.

“But…”

“You love someone else too,” She interrupted him.

“Yes, but it’s not what you think. I um, I realized that I’m actually bisexual and I’ve been dating a man for the past nine months.”

“W-w-w-w-w-what?” she struggled to get the word out. The last thing she would have ever expected was for her husband, who had always seemed obsessed with all her womanly parts to make a confession like this.

“I’m sorry Maya. I just didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t want to add to your stress while you were sick and then you got better, and I just couldn’t tell you.”

“And you love him, this man that you’re dating, you love him?”

“I love you too."

A softer silence filled the space, like the air after a rain shower when it had been unbearably humid for days. She was breathing, but she didn’t know what to think.

“Are we over? Are we getting a divorce?” She asked the question genuinely. She didn’t know what she wanted. She didn’t know if they could actually move past this with or without counseling.

“No! We can go to counseling if that’s what you want, but I never wanted a divorce.”

They sat in silence once again. Maya tried to process what her husband had said. After seven years there had never been even the slightest indication that he liked men. He was either a brilliant liar or so deep in his denial that he didn’t know he was lying.

She thought about Frank and how she spent most of the day missing him and she wondered if she had ended things too soon.

Finally, she said the thing that came to mind when he said I love you too, “Do you think we should try an open marriage?” A brief smile played across her face, and she felt a combination of fear and excitement now that she’d finally said it.

“An open marriage?”

Please say yes.

More silence danced between them but to her it felt light and airy. She understood he needed to process. She still needed to process, so she waited.

“Does that mean you’re seeing someone else too?”

“Yes. I was.” She said it quickly before she could overthink it. He deserved to know, but even with his confession she knew she’d find a way to keep it to herself if she thought about it.

This time the waiting did not feel as easy. She silently drummed her fingers on her thighs and bit down on her lip semi-hard, willing herself to be patient. Let him process.



After what felt like hours, he finally said, “Let’s try it.”