Him. Cecilia Scott

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Him - Cecilia Scott


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you and me, huh?’

      ‘Sure. Wanna go with me to the store to pick up some supplies for her?’ I asked.

      ‘Sure.’

      ‘Let me put her inside my apartment and get my purse, then we can go. Or do you mind if she stays in your apartment till we get back?’

      ‘That’s fine.’

      * * *

      We drove to a pet store. Sam and I entered it with anticipation. I found a shopping cart and we strolled down the aisles. We bought Esme everything: a litter box, litter, dry and canned catfood and enough toys to keep her occupied for a long time. When we arrived at the aisle with the collars, we both immediately gravitated to the blue one. ‘It will match her eyes,’ I said. He nodded.

      ‘It feels like Christmas, doesn’t it?’ Sam asked.

      One of the clerks showed us how to make a nametag with her name and my phone number on it. ‘Guess this cements the deal,’ I told Sam. ‘I mean, what if her owner shows up? I do plan on putting up signs.’

      ‘It’ll be OK. It’ll be a happy ending either way,’ he replied.

      ‘Oh, it’ll break my heart if her former owner finds her.’

      ‘It’s always possible she was abandoned,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘But why would anyone give up such a pretty cat? I don’t think she’s feral. She likes people too much. Wild cats are much more skittish.’

      ‘Of course, I would feel sad for her previous owners if they’re looking for her but I really hope no one claims her.’

      ‘Me too.’

      The following evening I affixed flyers on various trees and lampposts in the neighbourhood.

       6

       I can’t find HIM, redux.

      I was swallowed up in an abyss of love in an instant. There was no pausing on the brink; no looking down, or looking back.

      Charles Dickens, David Copperfield

      This is what I understood: there was no going back. None. Desire was a slow burn that would consume me. It didn’t matter. I just wanted HIM. HIM.

      This was new territory for me.

      The next morning I woke up with a start. It was Saturday. Where was he? I wanted to wake up to HIM. Where was he? Where was he? How could he not be here with me? What if he was still married? I hated that he was never available at weekends. Maybe he was still with her? Maybe he was with someone else. But when I asked HIM about her he always said the same thing: the marriage had run its course. There was no going back.

      I remembered our conversation the first night we were together at the hotel and I brought up the subject of his marriage. He had sighed and moaned and looked sad. He said they continued to fight over custody of the children. He told me he lived in a small apartment near their family home. ‘It was the least I could do: leave her with the house,’ he confided. ‘I was the one who left her. She’s never forgiven me for it.’

      I’d held HIM close. I could tell he’d gone through a lot.

      He told me that one of the reasons he wasn’t available at weekends was that his wife had never really honoured the every-other-weekend agreement of their custody. She’d find reasons to make plans for the children at weekends, when they were supposed to be with HIM.

      I’d kissed HIM. I felt sorry for HIM. He was the wronged parent. He seemed so earnest.

      Of course I hated her. But if he weren’t available I would have to look the other way. I was absolutely smitten with HIM. It had never been like this before.

      It wasn’t just the sex any more. It was the whole package. He practised international law. He jetted off to Europe and Asia. He was in an entirely different class professionally. I’d never been involved with a man like HIM.

      So maybe power was an aphrodisiac. Or maybe it was that he kept coming back for more. Perhaps it was his whispering in my ear that he’d take care of me. It was all so alluring.

      I loved fucking HIM but I also loved talking to HIM. It was just the beginning of our love affair but when I was with HIM I was certain we’d be together for a long time. He was everything I wanted in a man and more. And the sex, the sex … I got wet just thinking about HIM.

      I slipped my fingers inside my pussy, closed my eyes. I could hardly breathe.

      I was very close to coming when I opened my eyes to see my newfound cat next to my shoulder, staring at me. ‘Esme,’ I whispered, ‘just a moment.’ And then I closed my eyes again and rubbed myself to orgasm.

      Afterwards I climbed out of bed, picked up the cat and took her to the kitchen to feed her. As she ate I cautioned her. ‘Esme. I am a woman who is in the midst of a very intense and sexual love affair. What you saw this morning is just the tip of the iceberg.’

      She looked up at me momentarily. I knew she couldn’t hear or understand me, but I also knew she’d be my best confidante in the days to come.

       7

       Waiting to see HIM …

       All, everything that I understand, I understand only because I love.

      War and Peace, Leo Tolstoy,

      This is what I understood: I was in so deep and there was no going back. I’d thrown caution to the wind and for what? My mother had taught me about the greatest writers of Western civilisation but she hadn’t versed me in self-protection. I had taken the road with steep cliffs on both sides.

      * * *

      Several days later I stood on a ladder in the backyard with Sam below me. He and I had decided to harvest the apples from the apple tree. Sam held a pillowcase to collect our bounty. He loved my French apple pie and I intended to make a dozen or so of them over the course of the next couple of days. We’d freeze most of them for later in the year.

      It was during this venture that I felt the vibration of my cell in my back pocket of my jeans. I thought about not answering it but I wanted to know if it was HIM. I looked at Sam, who gave me an ironic smile.

      ‘Answer it already,’ he said.

      I reached in my back pocket, the ladder swaying ever so slightly. Sam grabbed the base and held it in place. I removed one of my gardening gloves with my teeth and held it there. I could see it was HIM.

      I put the phone back in my pocket. I’d have to read it later. There was no way I could read anything from HIM with Sam in such close proximity. My cheeks had already reddened with embarrassment.

      Sam teased me about HIM. ‘You got it bad.’

      I smiled weakly. Sam had no idea how much I was banking on this love affair.

      I hurried through the task of picking the apples. Sam seemed to sense my anxiety and soon begged off, complaining of a backache. He needed to lie down. I scurried down the ladder. I watched Sam retreat toward his side of the duplex.

      ‘Let me know if you need anything. I’ll bring over one of my pies soon,’ I yelled after him. But I’d already yanked off the garden gloves and thrown them to the ground. I grabbed the phone out of my back pocket and stared down at the Blackberry’s screen.

      HIM:


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