"So, see you next week maybe?" James said as he put on his jeans.
I lit a cigarette and watched as the smoke wafted out the window. It was early evening and it has started to drizzle.
"Do you want to stay over? You can leave early tomorrow," I told James, pointing at the rain.
"I can't. It's alright; it should be easy to get a cab."
James and I have been seeing each other on and off for more than four years now. He knows my body, every nook and corner of it, better than some of my lovers. When we have sex, I sometimes feel I'm a violin and his tongue is the bow, smooth and slow, at times quick, rough, insistent.
Sometimes we see each other once a week, sometimes once in a year. There is an unspoken rule; our lovers always come first, you second.
Still, our relationship has outlived every single one that I had with my boyfriends. Sometimes I wonder what we have and how long it will last.
"Do you have other buddies?" I asked him once.
"I don't know Kane. I guess at some point in time, you'll tire of random encounters too."
"I like what we have," he explained. "You know, someone to talk to, someone to fuck with."
Human beings, no matter what we think, are creatures of habit after all. There is a certain comfort in the regularity, of having someone, anyone.
James and I met at a party hosted by a common friend. He was too charming; I couldn’t resist.
"I've always liked boys with dimples," James said, offering me a drink.
"Ohhh. Hahaha. It's just a dimple," I replied.
"Can I see you again?"
"Uhmm. I have a boyfriend James."
"Do you... now."
I have a boyfriend, I kept reminding myself. But James' presence made me giddy, light
"So, what do you do?" I asked him.
"I'm a man of many talents," he said teasingly.
"Ahh. But can you do the hardest thing of all?" I said, pulling him closer to me. I was getting drunk, and the alcohol made me reckless.
"What is that?"
His fingers were playing with my hand. I knew he wanted me and the knowledge made me braver than I really was. I looked him in the eye.
"Keep a secret."
He held my gaze.
"Ahhhh. Yes. I can do that."
"Can I add you in my Facebook?" James asked me before he left.
"So we can be friends."
"We are friends, James. Just not that kind of friends."
"Don't you remember? I thought you understood.You're my secret."
Louis XVIII at Hartwell House
1 hour ago