Crimson Lullaby

It’s been almost three years of highs and lows, but mostly lows; rows, despair and grief for something that never was. How much longer can this go on?

Three years ago, I had bumped accidentally into Kian at a music festival with our friends. The minute our eyes locked, my knees went weak. From that night on, it had been a whirlwind of emotions. The first few months, what you might call the ‘honeymoon’ phase, were like a fairytale, a splendiferous good time we had. It was all sorts of fun and we spent every possible minute together. Then, as time went by, I started to see Kian’s exterior slowly cracking, to reveal a shell of a man who struggles with his emotions, a man who is constantly trapped somewhere in a dark place. I started to understand the effort he was making to hide all of this from me to a point that he could not hide it any longer. There were times when I used to go to his place after a day’s work, so looking forward to seeing him again, and I would find him crying on his bed, with his head buried in his hands. He looked up at me with red rimmed puffy eyes and my heart would break. For whatever demon was bringing him down, it was slowly taking this man away from me, little by little. No matter how sad he would feel daily, my heart hurt to see him in such a state. 

Kian was the most handsome man in my eyes; a tall slender figure, topped with dark hair and paired with equally dark eyes. He had the sweetest smile, whenever he let it through, and knowing how hard it was for him to be positive, even a hint of a smirk made him even sweeter still. Kian was the kind of man who was very popular with his friends, and many girls wanted him in his high school days, which made me feel very lucky to be the one he chooses to share his life with now. I always had high hopes for the both of us. I could see myself marrying him and be the mother of his children someday. All of this made me love him even more.

My flight for Paris was bound to leave in about twenty-four hours. This time tomorrow I would be miles away from him. I was leaving on a business trip with my boss for ten days, but my heart was not in it. My heart was hovering somewhere close to where Kian was. Tonight, though, I intended to have a serious talk with him before I left. 

‘Darling,’ I called out as I let myself in through the door. It was only ten past five in the evening, I had just finished from work on time, for once, and the commute to Kian’s place only took about ten minutes. The hall was dark, but I could make out the light on in the kitchen at the other end of the corridor and a divine smell of homemade cooking.

‘Tina!’ came the reply, ‘in here!’

I followed the voice to the kitchen and paused for a few seconds to take in the handsomeness that he was. I struggled to assess his mood as his back was turned to me while tending to the stove. As I got closer, he seemed poker faced but at least that was better than finding him in tears. I brushed my hand lightly up and down his arm and reached up for a peck on the cheek.

‘Hey you, how are you?’ I whispered sweetly, trying to keep the mood lifted as much as possible, for whatever was coming could not be good.

‘The usual,’ he shot me an expressionless look as he swirled the divine smelling bacon in the pan.

We briefly talked about our day, then I decided to drop the ball.

‘Listen, Ki, we need to have a serious talk today,’ I began. I removed my jacket and slumped on the two-seater sofa that rested on one side of the room. He nodded in agreement, switched off the stove, covered the pan and joined me on the sofa.

‘I’ve been expecting this, you know. How much longer can you put up with me?’

‘Oh no no no, Ki. It sounds very harsh when you put it that way. You know I love you with all my heart, and you know I am always there for you, and you know I believe in us, but sometimes it can get tiring. It feels like I am the one making all the effort, and I know how hard you try on your best days, but I need to know where I am with you. I am sure of what I want out of this relationship, but are you? Do you want to give us a chance? It’s been three years, Ki, but I still feel like I don’t know if I belong here...’

The silence between us cut through me like a knife, but then I went on.

‘Ki, I am very sorry, but I cannot bear this any longer. I will be away for two weeks now, in Paris, miles away from you, not being able to see you every day, and not knowing what’s going to happen with us...’ I fought hard to choke down a sob, swallowing the lump that formed in my throat instead.

He looked away, not able to look me in the eye. He buried his head in his hands and remained there for what felt like an eternity. Then he turned back to me. ‘You know I care a lot about you, Tina...but...but, how can I be sure how to love you if sometimes I am not even sure I love myself?!’

My mouth fell open in that moment. I knew it. But this was the first time he admitted it out loud and somehow now it became even more real. It felt like a dagger was being twisted right in the middle of my chest.

‘I am sorry, Tina, so so sorry...’ a tear streaked down his cheek, ‘I can’t help myself feeling this way. I am constantly down; I am tired of myself. Many times, my mind wanders in places it shouldn’t go...but I can’t help it!’ It became full on heavy sobs, like a broken-hearted child who’s been unwillingly separated from his mother. ‘You are the one thing that’s good in my life, but I don’t know how to keep you there...’ His head slumped onto my shoulder as he cried into my neck. I felt helpless. I pulled him in an embrace and held him like that for as long as he needed. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t possibly leave him like this. But then, what more could I do that I hadn’t done already? His sobbing slowly subsided, and a calmness descended upon him. He broke free of our embrace and looked at me again.

‘Tina, have a good time in Paris, please try to focus and do not think about me, I will be fine. I will be here, contemplating everything, missing you an awful lot, but I will try not to contact you. I don’t want to distract you and I also want to think everything through. I will miss you a lot, but let’s talk again when you’re back, okay? I will wait for you at the airport.’

I nodded. If that was what he needed, then I was ready to comply. Two more weeks meant nothing compared to the last three crazy years we shared. Being away from him while leaving things so hazy between us was not going to be easy, and I couldn’t wait until this whole Paris trip was over. Then Kian leaned closer, briefly teasing me by brushing his lips upon mine and even just the smell of his cologne and his closeness were enough to send my senses into a downward spiral. He kissed me so hard, so passionately, that I couldn’t breathe. My hands unknowingly brushed through his hair as I pulled him closer. I didn’t want that kiss to end. It felt so good, so right in that moment, that I am not sure how long we remained in that trance, an infinite state of passion, hunger and lust.  I gasped for breath for a few seconds, then found my mouth hungrily back on his. It was like I wanted to remember it and taste it for as long as possible, like I wanted it to last forever. It was surely going to be hell to spend two whole weeks without his kisses.

***

I couldn’t deny that I did enjoy the trip. My boss and I were extremely busy at the company’s office in Paris, we spent a lot of time with our French colleagues and attended a few conferences. The days were a whirlwind of work, lunches and more work, and whilst I was working, it kept my mind off Kian. When the evening came, though, it took all the courage I could muster not to give him a call. It hurt not to hear from him. Instead, I tried to focus on catching up with my mother in the evenings, and a few minutes of video chat with her were enough to lift my mood up a little. She was a funny woman, my mother, lighting up each room she entered. Each time she asked me about Kian, I pretended everything was fine and I did not divulge anything of our last conversation.

The day I was bound to arrive back home finally arrived. I was so excited, even more than I was excited to get to Paris in the first place. I missed Kian terribly, and I wanted to continue where we left off. A tiny part of me was scared of what was going to happen now, what if he wanted to break it off with me? I was mentally trying to prepare myself for the worst. I had always been brave and strong, but that was not enough to protect yourself from the pain. Whatever the outcome, I was ready to face it all.

I followed the airport signs to ‘Baggage reclaim’, moving along with the group of people that disembarked from the plane right before me. My luggage quickly appeared on the belt, waiting for me to claim it. As I walked towards customs into the airport, I was thinking ‘this is it’. I couldn’t wait to see Kian. I emerged through the yellow metal doors and my eyes searched frantically for him. I couldn’t see him anywhere. My heart leapt in my throat. Something was wrong. He promised to meet me here. He was never late. I was not expecting anyone else to pick me up since Kian was going to meet me here himself. I scanned the airport crowd again, but I could see no one familiar. I tried calling him on his phone, surely it was justified for me to call him now, I suppose, but the phone rang and rang and rang while I tautly paced…no reply came. In an attempt to calm myself down, I took a few deep breaths and decided to wait for a few minutes. Still…nobody showed up. Since I lived only ten minutes away from the airport, I decided to get a cab back home to leave my luggage there, and then I would go straight to Kian’s place.

I fumbled for my keys in my carry-on bag, and just as I was about to turn the key in its lock to open my front door, I notice a handful of mail in my letter box. I grabbed them and hurried inside. As soon as I got in, I threw the mail on my side table in the hall, but a yellowish paper with a handwritten note amongst the white envelopes caught my eye. My hands trembled as I unfolded the paper which read, ‘I hope you will forgive me. Love, K.’

Just then my phone started to ring. My brain was running at two hundred miles per minute, not fully registering what was happening. I answered without checking who it was. It was my mum. The familiar voice on the other end of the line provided the slightest comfort of normality.

‘Hi sweetie,’ I noticed that she did not sound her usual chirpy self. ‘Have you landed? Sorry I couldn’t come and meet you there…’

‘Yes, mum, don’t worry about it. I just got back home. Kian was supposed to pick me up at the airport, he was not there and he’s not answering his phone…’

‘Tina, oh, how will I tell you this...’

‘Mum! What’s wrong?!’

A silence at the other end of the line.

‘Mum!’

‘Kian died last night in an awful car crash...’

‘Wha…’

I did not hear anything else she was saying. The phone slipped out of my hand, and I do not remember anything else after that.