The Assignation

I allowed my fingers to play over his body in our post coital haze. There were scars I longed to ask about, a tattoo on his upper arm that must have had some meaning. He idly stroked my back, seemingly content with the warmth of my naked body against his. I was reassured at how comfortable the silence was.

After a while I got up and retreated to the bathroom. The woman who greeted me in the mirror was dishevelled and glowing and grinned like an idiot.

I took a long, leisurely shower, half expecting him to join me. He didn't.

When I returned to the bedroom, he was still unselfconsciously naked on the bed. He held out his hand and welcomed me back. He'd poured some more wine and handed me a glass. With anyone else, this was when we would talk, crack a joke, say anything to distract the self-consciousness that fell over us at that moment.

I finished my wine and took his glass, setting it on the bedside table. I pushed him back on the bed. It was my turn. At first, his face registered surprise. Then sheer pleasure.

I awoke some hours later to the sound of the shower. It was still dark outside. The clock radio told me that it was just past two in the morning. Six hours since he'd re-entered my life. I took a deep, satisfied breath. I was tempted to wait for him but thought it better not to. We'd exhausted ourselves and there would obviously be no pillow talk. Besides, I couldn't exactly say goodbye.

I got dressed and moved to the dresser just as the shower stopped. On a pad, I wrote the date one year hence and a time. No name, no little hearts, no XOXO. I placed the pen on the pad, grabbed my purse, and softly closed the door behind me.