― Aleksandra Ninkovic, Dreaming is for lovers
I've been a long time alone and it's changed me in ways I can't relate to others. I'm just different.
That's what I wanted to say to Clare when we were sitting alone at her family's dining table, Clay and Sylvia having discretely withdrawn first to the patio for tea and then afterwards for the night.
Strangers in our flesh but lovers in our dreams. How was this possible?
I wanted to ask, without her thinking I was mad.
I wanted to say anything other than polite nothings but didn't know where to begin.
"Silence between two people can be profound," Clare said suddenly and I looked up surprised, staring into her lovely face.
"Yes, it can be profound," I replied, "especially if it's not for lack of something to say."
"I feel this tension between us, Marcus―it's not awkward, but more a sense of each of us harbouring secrets we're afraid for the other to know. Do you feel that?"
"I do, and I'd gladly unburden my heart because someone has to go first, but I was actually hoping it would be you."
We both laughed and the ice was broken.
"Can I ask you questions?" she whispered. "It might help."
"You may and I'll try my best to answer but honestly, I'm at a disadvantage," I frowned, lifting my wrist to expose my medical bracelet. "I may not know the answers myself."
"Oh, I see you're wounded too, One writ with me in sour misfortune's book."
"You read Shakespeare? Then, we have something in common―hopefully other than being star-crossed lovers."
A sudden silence fell like a shadow between us and I regretted having uttered the words. But she reached out her hand to touch mine. "Then you feel it too―I thought it was just me."
I was surprised there was no sudden spark or waves of heat from the gesture―not as I felt with Tess―just an inner warmth similar to the sensation of sipping a strong wine.
"Tell me why you felt you knew me," she asked.
That unavoidable moment had arrived when I would either terrify her or make a complete fool of myself, but I had come this far and there was no turning back.
"I know this sounds crazy but I've been having dreams all my life..." I paused because she was smiling.
She was looking at my medical bracelet.
"Okay," I sighed, "let me mend my speech less I mar my fortunes. Ever since I can remember, I've been dreaming of a certain girl...
and that girl is you."
I don't know what I expected―that she'd laugh, or throw a glass of wine in my face and storm out.
I had absolutely no idea what people generally might do because I had so little social intercourse with anyone.
My face was downcast, staring at the intricate lace tablecloth.
But when I finally mustered the courage to look up, tears were gently rolling down her cheeks and I was staring into the same sad eyes I saw at night, gazing at me from the foot of my bed.