Inscrutable Love

(Read the prequel here: Candid Love)

I kept checking my watch every five minutes, believing somehow that the regular glances at the dial would, somehow, make the hands move faster and inch closer to Eight P.M.; when I was supposed to meet him at the street-corner delicatessen on the Capitoline Hill. I could hardly wait to see that handsome face again, look deep into those intense eyes, watch the fine lines which made his jaw move as he showered me with his magnificent stories and which always touched the right chord inside me; look at his ink-stained fingers drum the table restlessly; his hands dancing dramatically to the tunes of his own voice. Anyone would confuse him for an Italian, if they could just see him talk, not hear him. His hand movements, his broad shoulders, his ruffed-up hair, his immaculate dressing sense and his love-filled laughter; his eyes closed, his head falling back and his whole face lit up with the joy which made him laugh. There were no pretentions or checking of emotions. It was a laugh that only a man who has nothing to hide can laugh.

I took out my beige coloured, ankle-length frock and brown strapped sandals. I wanted to dress casually but elegantly. I chose a pair of pearl earrings and a white leather purse to go with it. I walked out to the balcony and instantly felt the hair on the back of my neck rising as the cold winds hit my naked arms and legs. It was a beautiful evening, winter was setting in, and the night was cloudless with the moon shining bright and the anticipation of love lingering in the air. I went back in, shivering, and decided to drape a stole as well. 

It was still seven-thirty and I looked in the mirror, blushing like a bride-to-be. I felt like a teenager, excited by the prospect of meeting her crush. I applied a sweet, fruity perfume at the base of my neck and wrists. I let my hair loose, keeping it to one side of my shoulder and decided to catch a cab to the deli. 

As I got down from the cab, I could feel the night air getting colder as I wrapped the stole a little tighter around my body, trying to shield myself from the penetrating gusts of wind. My eyes met his as he got up from the table to welcome me. He was dressed in a casual white shirt and blue denim. He was wearing a pair of dark red loafers and big black spectacles which made his face look even more intriguing. He greeted me with a bunch of flowers, saying “You look wonderful, tonight!” I resisted the urge to kiss him on the lips, then and there. I knew I had to progress cautiously if there was to be any future of our relationship. I needed to be sure if he felt the way I feel for him. I kept looking into his hazelnut eyes; at his black fuzzy beard; at his perfectly aligned teeth; and I had to bring myself back to the reality every time I sensed losing myself in him. 

Maybe I should have told him how I feel. Maybe I should have dropped a few hints. Maybe I should have brought up the topic of love and eternity. Maybe I should have said yes to his offer of dropping me home. I should have done at-least something before the night ended.


(Read the continuation here: Unfathomable Love)