It seemed that Oliver entered the house a bit too early which made me again being…the delayed one. I knew I had twenty minutes to get ready and hanging around his neck, I was begging for the five more.
Climbing up the stairs to the bedroom, I was already fighting with solid decisions, oscillating between dresses and trousers, high heels or flat, nude or vibrant colours. “Shut up!” I was toughly telling the noisy mind starving for problem creation so it had issues to solve out.
I chose a silky white jumpsuit that was dramatising my tanned skin, and my beloved nude high-heel shoes, which was transposing part of my personality. The chosen dressing style had a strong meaning to me, incorporated in my own visions and attitudes. That was making me feel infinitely unstable, looking back at the strong jumps from one taste to another.
My hopeless makeup got minimised to a cranberry lipstick applied on my lips, being helped by nature with a long and obedient hair wore in a summerish and light style.While tasting his voice and admirative words, we decided to enjoy tapas. I bended over to kiss Adhira goodbye, reassuring her that we would be back soon. We got in our car, a yellowish Mehari from the ‘70s, making sure that the butterflies are still there, in my stomach. The emotion of our first date.
“Darling, are you ready? There is few time left. How was the training today?” I started the evening conversation.
“I am confident, Sof. And enthusiastic. Three weeks on the sea, I cannot wait for this challenge…although I would have loved to have you closer to me. Today we checked the sails, and the trail of the boat, everything seemed to be in good condition. We adjusted the level of liquids and I think that we are ready to start. I met Artur today, he was so glad to go back to sailing on the sea. How did the yoga classes go? It is getting colder.”
Oliver knew how to communicate and make himself listened to with the art of caring. Artur was his navigation partner, a man with a tremendous strength, older than him, but who was showing the spirit of an adventurous sportsman. Soon after his wife passed away, he decided to dedicate himself to the pleasure of navigation on sailing boats, all that coming from the thirst of adrenaline and the connection with the nature and the sea, that was bearing the physical remains of his beloved wife. The short whitened barbe was bringing back the elegance of human aging and was describing a spirit that had never give up on truly living a life. I was thinking about the risks implied by this competitions, especially that the route was circling Palma de Mallorca and thereafter Sardinia, doing the return way through the North of Africa.
Once at the restaurant, I was being the lazy one, just as usual, Oliver dropping me off in front of the restaurant before parking the car. Cala Incognito was a restaurant close to the beach, found in the direction of the Nautic Center of Javea, on Puerto de Javea street. A place where you could get lost in the atmosphere of spectacular pleasure and comfort, of relaxation at the sight of exotic palm trees and the sound of the turquoise waves hitting the rocks around . My companion was enriching those moments, that beautiful and sexy human being who was mentally stimulating me.
The evening was delightful, with wild berries sangria, a slightly tricky drink that night. It was delicious.
“ Cin cin for us, sweetheart, you are the best!”
“Cin cin, for you, my wonder one!” said Oliver.
One last glass and we got up in a happy mood, saying goodbye to the staff, a pleasant and amusing team of young and fresh people. We were searching for each others hands like that was the first moment of feeling the perfume of each other’s skin. I love him. He loves me.
“What a great song, put it up! What a night!
“It’s too loud, Sof, it disturbs me. I feel tired. Do you mind?”
Oliver bent over the radio, making it quiet and peaceful.
“Again, Oliver? Seriously? Every time you have to ruin the spontaneity! Turn it on, please, you know how much I love this song!
I use to live the music deep inside, enjoying singing and moving my body in the static dance while sitting on the car chair. I feel like I am having my own live unplugged concert.
‘Sof, you are so stubborn, I just ask for a moment of peace, I mind the noise. We could simply talk.’ He answered with a calm voice, trying to convince me to give up.
‘”All the time…words, chit-chats, words. I won’t let you change me.”
The moment the words flew out of my mouth, my mind just started to think, like a real time reacting boomerang. He looked at me, with cold hands. Angry, I turned off the radio, without talking any longer. My ego proved its point. I entered our house with my hands folded trying to show him I was fine. Alright, my ego got out of my control. It was just a song, a simple three-minute long song.
I went upstairs to change my clothes, while he headed towards the kitchen to prepare his traditional glass of milk with a touch of honey.
Yes, I knew I was being selfish and childish. And I knew I had to apologise and compensate, somehow, the fight during that beautiful night. I grabbed his favourite underwear and while climbing down the stairs towards the kitchen I was trying to get brave enough, asking my ego to take a break. For good.
“I am sorry, I know, it was just a song. I should not have…”
“We are good. It would be boring without arguments. You had to shout out loud your point” Oliver answered with his ironic sense.
I was craving to kiss him, while his hands grabbed around my waist making me get lost into his arms and seduce him.
Cuddling my naked back, I was spotting how the corner of his lips betrayed his playful smile.
“You are so hard to resist. I wish all our fights are this bad and end this way.” Oliver whispered to my ear, kissing me down the neck to the chest, feeling his interrupted breath that made me desire him more than ever. He took off with his lips the braces of my purple bra. We were breathing together in the same rhythm, with synchronised heartbeats that made love before our bodies did. We were craving for each other, reaching for the pure pleasure when he became part of me…part of him.
When I was making love to him we knew that between us there was more that the fear of being alone, more than just physical chemistry. We knew our connection was old enough to not find its original roots.
I was about to miss him a lot. Every time we were falling asleep skin on skin, surrounded by silence, with him covering me with a soft blanket .
The day of the competition was there, laying down next to our bed.
“What are we going to have for breakfast today, Sof?” He asked me, kissing me on my leg, hint that he was still enjoying the moments of the previous evening.
Right there, the most annoying question was in between us: what do we eat? The fridge represented for me the point of daily contemplation. A chess game, that turned most of the times into a checkmate. I was being conquered, that was a fact.
“Pancakes? Chocolate and raspberries, a touch of mascarpone. Like never!”
I definitely made him smile, me, the weirdo of nutrition.
I used to love observing him getting ready: the classic navy blue moccasins with the summerish brown trousers cut above the knee, emphasising his well toned legs, and the adorable polo that made me recall his classy style. I heard from the kitchen his quarrel with his own wrinkles, telling himself in the mirror “You are getting old, you wolf!”.
Basic morning for me, but emotional for him. We had breakfast without much of a talk. He read his newspaper, while I was fighting with the third pancake which seemed to win over me.
At ten sharp we had to be in the harbour of Javea, a place of magical sailing boats, where the sails reached to the sky playing in the charming wind . The light balance of the waves was making your eyes watch the round movement of the boat in the sea water, bringing with them fantastic stories with the mermaids of the childhood.
Oliver grabbed his luggage, playing for few moments with Adhira, his little girl, leaving me already gone, in my world of a thousand thoughts, stupid and incoherent dreams.