Save Tonight

Tonight was our last night together. I could feel a tight knot forming in my stomach and the lump in my throat was making it hard for me to swallow. I knew I wasn't ready to let go. My gaze settled on where she was. She looked so beautiful sitting there in the porch swing, her curly long black hair dancing wildly with the blowing of the wind, her dainty feet barely touching the ground. I looked away. Staring at her was too painful.
The sun has just set and I could hear the tolling of the ancient grandfather clock in the living room. I glanced at my wrist to check the time. Seven O' Clock, I thought. A couple more hours and we'll be going our separate ways. Our lives will move on. As if we were never together to begin with. I let out a long sigh.
"Chris," I called, walking towards the swing. "It's getting cold and dark, let's go in."
She looked up, her eyes brimming with sadness. "Hey," she whispered so softly that I could barely hear her. "Great night, huh?"
I shrugged. She knows it's not a great night. I know it's not. "Come inside. I've prepared food for the two of us. Plus I've got a bottle of vodka waiting for us, our favorite. "
She bit her lower lip to keep it from trembling. "A party for two, huh?" she looked away, avoiding my eyes. She took out a stick of cigarette from her pocket and lit it. She took a long drag and let out a huge cloud of smoke.
"You're smoking again," I told her, reaching for the stick and stepping on it. "You know it's not good for you." She didn't say anything. Usually she had a clever remark ready when I give her my speech on how bad smoking is. She took my hand and lead me back inside the house. The touch of her hand made me smile, thinking of the endless nights we've spent touching each other mindlessly, driving each other mad with passion.
When we reached the dining room, she let go of my hand and turned around. Sadness was all over her face. "Mark," she began. "I love you." So short, so simple. Yet the words she let out made me glow with happiness. I took her face in my hands and pressed my lips to hers, gently at first, tugging on her lower lip, pushing my tongue in. When she opened hers to welcome mine, I felt heat coursing through my body. "I love you, Christine," I whispered in her ear, my mouth trailing soft, butterfly kisses to her cheek down to her throat. Her hands were unfastening the buttons of my black shirt, exposing the pale skin of my chest. She leaned down and started kissing it, her hands splayed on my chest. I let out a sigh. "Honey," I said in a low voice, taking her by the shoulders and stopping her. I lead her to the soft plush couch in the living room.
"You don't want to do it?" she asked, disappointment lurking in her chocolate brown eyes.
I shook my head. Of course I want it. My jeans were starting to tighten already. But I didn't want to just yet. "Not just yet. I`d rather cuddle."
She gave me a noisy, wet smack on the lips. "Good idea." I dragged her body close to mine, my head resting on her shoulders, her head leaning on mine.
I`ll never have her this close again and I wanted this moment to last. Why do we have to separate?

Christine padded back to the couch, carrying a bottle of Vodka and 2 glasses. "Here," she said, giving me one glass. She took hers in one gulp and poured herself one after the other. I did just the same, trying to numb the pain, hoping against hope that I`ll get drunk, that I`ll be able to forget that this was our last night together.
"Come here," she ordered me, patting the space beside her, pulling me close to her. We stared at the fireplace infront of us. I started humming to her. I couldn't open my mouth to let out words. Being with her-cuddling and kissing- was too much. I knew I was going to break down.
"Do you regret coming here with me?" she asked suddenly, looking at my face.
I shook my head. "No. I've no regrets at all, I just wish…" I trailed off, clearing my throat to dislodge the lump rising.
"You wish what?" she quipped. "Say it, Mark."
Then tears started to come down my face, a loud sob finally escaped my throat. "I wish…I wish…I wish this could last. I wish we'd be together longer."
"Mark," she took my face in her palms, wiping the tears with her thumbs. "I wish this could go on forever. I wish we could be together but we both know we can't."
"This is so unfair!" I wailed, acting like a five-year-old kid. I turned my head, I didn't want to look at her and see her eyes.
"I know it is," she began to sob silently, her chest heaving up and down. "Let's just make the most out of the night. Let's not spend the remaining hours sulking." She leaned forward, kissing me with all passion, pressing her body to mine as close as she could.

We lay there on the couch, our love once again consummated, our bodies sated and satisfied. I kissed the top of her bare shoulders and she stirred. I smiled at the memory of our passionate love making---the way her skin radiated with the flickering fire light, the way her face lit up when I went inside her, the way she told me she loves me as our joint bodies rhythmically moved, and the way she cried out my name when we reached the peak. The thought that it will come to an end---our love---weakens me so.
Tomorrow it will all be over. Tomorrow we'll walk out of this paradise that we created. We'll turn our backs and move on. Tomorrow what we have will all be part of our memories. That thought breaks my heart in million pieces. I watched the logs fizzle, as I stroke Christine's back. I could feel the steady rhythm of her breathing. I glanced at her sleeping body. She looked like an angel, my angel. I started to talk to her, through my mind and touch. There were so many things I wanted to say, yet I didn't know how to say them all at once.
Thank you for loving me, for showing me how it is to be loved for who I am and not for what I do. Thank you for showing me a world different from what I know. Thank you for opening my eyes and teaching me that even if Westlife ends, I can survive. Thank you for being there for me when things got too much. Thank you for a whole lot, even if we've only been together for a month. Thank you for this wonderful fortnight, for taking me away from the band. Most of all, thank you for teaching me how to love wholeheartedly, to give myself wholly, without holding back anything.
"You're crying," she whispered, her eyes brimming with tears as well. "Mark, I'm sorry for putting you in this position. I'm sorry for…"
"Shhh," I placed my index finger on her red full lips. I didn't want her to apologize for anything. "You didn't do anything wrong, honey. Everything you did was perfect."
She hugged me, burying her face in my chest. "No! I didn't do anything perfect. I don't deserve to be loved like this. I practically seduced you into having a relationship with me…"
"Christine, you didn't!" I said firmly, steadying the trembling of her shoulders. "Listen to me," I placed my thumb and forefinger on her chin, gently forcing her to look into my teary eyes. "No one's at fault. You didn't seduce me into anything. I wanted this. I have loved you ever since I saw you in Hyde Park."
"Thank you," she said, her lips forming a bittersweet smile. "Thank you for loving me even if I feel I don't deserve it." "You deserve it," I assured her. "You deserve all the love this world has to offer."
She looked up to me again and gave me a kiss. "Hold me. I just want to be held for as long as possible." I obliged. I took her in my arms and together we fell asleep.

We were at the porch, the door to the house firmly locked. I examined her face. Her eyes were bloody red and puffy. I knew she spent a good hour long crying inside the bathroom. I caught sight of myself and I looked like hell as well. None of us was taking this goodbye easily.
"So," I started tentatively. I couldn't prolong the agony anymore. The longer we stayed, the more we will suffer. "Yeah," she muttered, shifting from side to side, staring at the pavement. "So this is it."
It sounded so final, so irrevocable. "Yeah, I guess," I replied. Suddenly I wanted to run inside the flat, wind back the ancient grandfather clock. I needed more time to be with her. I needed an hour, a day, a week, a month, a year, and a whole lifetime. But I know I can't. This was our fate---to meet, fall in love and go our separate ways.
"Let's not leave," she abruptly suggested, thrusting her chin up. "Let's leave everything behind and live here for the rest of our lives."
Part of me wanted that. No, every part of my body wanted to do what she just said. But we can't. There were lives at stake. Not just ours. But a lot more. It was time for us to correct our mistakes and move on---no matter how hard it is. "We can't and you know it," I told her. It broke my heart when I saw fresh tears flow down to her rosy cheeks. "We need to go back and face our lives on our own." I flinched when I said those words. It hurt me. But this was the right thing to do.

"Christine," I started, running my fingers through her curly hair, my eyes taking in the beauty infront of me, memorizing every line of her being. "I love you. I always will. Every song I will forever sing, I dedicate to you." She started to cry and I had to stop. I had to stop because I was crying myself. "Jeffrey is so lucky to have you for a wife. James is so lucky because you're a wonderful mum. What I wouldn't give to be in Jeffrey's place."
Yes, she was married. And a mother of a two-year old blue-eyed baby boy. And I fell in love with her. So did she. Jeffrey and James were the reason why we can't stay, why we can't go on with our forbidden love, why we need to say goodbye now and walk away.
"Oh God," she cried, hugging me. "I love you so much, Mark! I wish I met you first. I wish I fell in love with you way back before I met Jeffrey. You will always have my heart."
This wasn't going the way I wanted it to be. I thought we could just say our good-byes and walk out quickly. But we can't. The more she hugged me, the more I wanted to stay. The more I held her, the more I wanted to beg her to break it off with Jeffrey. The more we cried, the more I wanted to die because I know I`ll never be a whole man again. I`ll never be the same person again.
I can't recall who started to let go first. But we managed to. We were able to disentangle ourselves from one another. We had to. For the future of James, her lovely son who I adore so much.
"I love you, Mark. Always." She inched closer once more and gave me a kiss. a long, last kiss---a kiss that said it all and ended it all as well. I returned the kiss with the same ardor.
"I love you, too. You'll always be here," I took her hands and brought it to my heart. I kissed her hand and then let go.
"Goodbye, Mark" she said.
"Goodbye, Christine," I called back. We turned our backs. I began to walk---slow, heavy steps---to my car. I paused to turn. I wanted to see if she got in her car. She was walking slowly as well, her head hanging down. When I saw her climb inside the car, I turned my back on her. I didn't want to see her drive away from the place and from me.
I stood there, paralyzed on the ground. I was hurting too much I didn't know what to do. All I know was that we made the right decision. I know that even for just a while I made her happy. And she made me happy as well.
Large drops of water started to fall from the sky. I looked up, letting the rain wash away my tears and pain. I`ll never ever forget you, Christine. You'll always be the one. Part of me will always belong to you and no one else. I love you. I took one last look at the house that became our paradise for a couple of days. And then I smiled. The time we had, though short, and the memories we've shared, though few, were too wonderful and too good. And I know those moments will help me move on.
I revved up the car, drove away and never looked back.