The Best Thing That Could’ve Happend

The window was wide open, letting the soft, warm breeze play about their sleeping bodies, tickling his eyes in to wakefulness. As his lids parted he couldn’t help but smile at what he saw. A vision of his Aphrodite carved from warm, translucent alabaster, so fragile it seemed it could shatter at any moment. The perfect curve, which started at her neck, ran all the way down to her full hips as she had fought her way from beneath the blanket during the night like Tuscan hills escaping a thick fog in a renaissance masters painting. His arm snaked out; his fingers brushed her milk white shoulder; he paused for a moment; waiting to see if he had woken her. Her delicate chest continued to rise and fall as before. His hand ran down every inch of her sculpted perfection, the whole time his smile widening as, it felt, a current ran through his hand. He lent in close to breath in the scent of her raven hair. Just then the alarm started to wail. It was over. His moment had past. He leapt across the bed to his side and began to hammer all the buttons on the top of the clock. They had had this glowing red harbinger for years and neither one of them had solved the mystery of how to turn the bloody thing off. Well this time it had signalled its own doom. He reached down behind the bedside table to unplug the monster when he heard her.

“Are you working today?” She had her cute morning voice on, at least an octave higher than her usual dark husky tone.

“Yeah, I’ve got to make the hours back from last week.” He smiled down at her as she rolled over.

She made the little, cute, humphing sounds that had become a private joke between them when she moved pretending to be fat and that turning was immensely hard work. As he watched the thought struck him to abandon work and pounce on her. Take hold of her firm body and fill his mouth with hers but even as she batted her impossibly long lashes at him he knew that it wasn’t an option. Only four hours of work then straight home. In six hours they would be back here just as naked but a lot less morning mouth. While he would be home in six hours it would not be as he imagined. Upon his return from work later the same day the most beautiful girl he had ever known would leave him. This was to be the last morning he ever woke up in the bed they had bought together.

He ran for the bus, hair still wet from the quick shower he had taken and mouth still bitter from drinking orange juice after brushing his teeth, he still does that.

Work was as he expected. Pieces of paper flew across his desk; he entered some of the information they held on to his computer, repeat ad nauseum. He watched the clock as it ticked. Eager to watch every second escape him, each brought him one step closer to home and what awaited him. As we know this was to prove an error. Ignorance is truly bliss in this case and believe me had I, I mean, er, He, if He had had that time again he would have planned for some extravagant show of affection. But he can’t have that time again. So he wasted it.

The bus ride home was as uneventful as it was laden with anticipation. He walked from the bus with a spring in his step stopping into the shop on the corner to pick up a few of her favourite things. They didn’t have any strawberry Ribena left so he got regular, she would understand. He jumped up the few stairs to their door and slid his key in the lock.

We all know what happened next. There’s no need to go into details. Sufficed to say there were a lot of tears on both side. All the obligatory promises that they would all ways be friends. they wouldn’t. They still loved each other and that it was no one’s fault. I should mention here that it was, in fact, his fault, the reasons are complicated but it was. He ran the full gambit of clichéd responses, the floor seemed to disappear, his heart leapt to his mouth, you know, all that rubbish. They still meet up for a drink every few months. She is doing well, as is he, in his own way. She smiles and talks about her life but always has a reason to leave early, he leave dejected and as in love as I was that last morning I reached out and touched her perfect skin.

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