Away from the city, in a cabin at Safari Valley Resort in Adukrom, Anan tossed in his bed. At this time of the year, the Eastern Region enjoyed cool weather and intermittent rains, a good excuse to snuggle longer in bed, especially with no responsibilities. But rest and joy eluded him.
He gave up and stepped onto the deck of his cabin. The kind of peace only Mother Nature scripted welcomed him – birds stirred and trees whispered. As he took in the ambiance of the environment, his thoughts strayed to her and he closed his eyes. He would give anything to see her again. Hold her. Make love to her right there on the deck… he would envelop her in his big robe as she leaned over the rail, and slide into her from behind. She would be ready for him as she always was, unlike the woman he married, and she would come undone with him – and for him.
Five years. Five years was enough time to get over anyone, yet his body betrayed him again with a potent response. He dashed into the bathroom for a warm bath; however, as he sank into the tub, memories came flooding back. The last time they were together in a tub…
Golda. His goddess. His hand slipped beneath the water before he realized what he was doing. Five years and the memory of how her mouth made him unravel hit him like a wave. She always took her time, worshipped him, and brought him down slowly. He wasn’t trying to touch himself; he was trying to feel her in that moment.
The memory swelled, and with it, his breath hitched. Anan gasped, hand clenching the side of the tub as he neared release, the water rippling with every motion and tension. He held on for a deeper thrust and ground out her name as he finally released.
Anan slumped back in the tub, pleasure and shame washing over him. “Why now?” he whispered. He and Golda had agreed to go their separate ways even though they couldn’t deny the chemistry. They had met at a mutual friend’s wedding and had hit it off. When they discovered that Anan’s workplace was in the same vicinity as Golda’s house, they began meeting on Friday evenings to unwind. As fate would have it, Anan went to see Golda off one evening and things got steamy. And it had continued until each of them announced their engagements five years ago, where they had a parting rendezvous. They hadn’t met since then.
Why he would fantasize over another man’s wife now, Anan couldn’t fathom. He needed air, he concluded, so he wore slacks and a white t-shirt and stepped out. Safari Valley was big, and he could enjoy all that Nature had to offer. He had not gone far when he felt the jolt, as if thunderstruck, only moments before he saw her. His throat went dry. She was looking more radiant with age. Would she even recognize him? For him, she was etched like a tattoo on his heart.
As he approached her from behind, she turned around fully. Her face went blank with recognition. “Anan?”
“In the flesh,” he replied as he closed the short distance between them and stood before her, opening his arms.
“Wow!” she said as she disengaged from him, her face giving no inclination of her feelings. “What a coincidence. I thought you were out of the country.”
“I never left,” Anan replied softly, a bit too softly to imply more. “May I?” gesturing at Golda’s luggage.
“Sure.”
Anan picked them up effortlessly. As she led the way to her room, Anan couldn’t help but admire how her hips swayed with every movement, and his slacks felt tighter than normal. This was a bad idea.
“Come in for a minute.” Golda invited. Ignoring all the saints’ bells that had gone off in his head, Anan stepped in. They would catch up briefly and he would be on his way. Harmless.
And so, they did. They caught up like old friends. That was strange because they’d never really had a friendship. They had passion and pockets of tenderness. But the talking? That was new. The hours slipped by like the wind, unnoticed. When the sky darkened and the world turned to shadow, Anan said, “I should go.” But he did not get up.
“You should,” she replied, without looking at him. “Thank you for the conversation.”
“You’re always welcome.” He fidgeted. The silence stretched. Golda rotated her neck. “I could give you a massage.” The words were out before he could stop himself, and he thought she would turn him down. Instead, she unbuttoned her dress shirt and let it fall, her gaze locked on Anan’s. Just like five years ago.
Golda lay face-down on the bed and Anan sat beside her. He deftly unlatched her bra and began to work on the nape of her neck then moved lower, working slowly down her back, fighting the urge to kiss her. Golda sighed with pleasure and Anan fought the desire to massage her derriere and give her a happy ending. He swallowed.
Anan left the room to wash his hands and returned to find Golda gazing out the window. Need warred with sense of responsibility, and when Golda turned to him, he saw that same battle there. She closed the distance between them and kissed him tentatively; afraid he would bolt.
Anan grabbed her waist with one hand and held the back of her head with the other for a deeper kiss. At that moment, their spouses didn’t matter. Their children didn’t matter. Nothing else mattered except the ember that sought to be rekindled in each other. They made love slowly, every kiss, every thrust, a recall of memories they thought they had buried. They came undone together and quietly like a rehearsed song long forgotten.
There was no rush to leave, so they lay entwined in the bed.
“Why didn’t we marry?” Golda asked suddenly.
“We never talked about it,” Anan said, realizing the fact. “Would you have married me?”
“I don’t know.” A pause. “This shouldn’t have happened.”
“Guilty?”
“No, just not proud.” She sat up. Anan sat up too and kissed her shoulder. The silence stretched.
“Life goes on,” he whispered, unable to mask the tenderness that wanted to keep her in his life this time.
“Life goes on,” Golda echoed.
Anan nodded. His spirit was quiet within. No judgment; just peace. As he dressed up to leave, Golda said, “I’ve been restless lately… Everything just quieted down.”
“Same here, Golda. Same here.” He leaned over her and kissed her with tender care. He didn’t say goodbye; he didn’t need to. She’s a piece of his heart, and that piece knew they would meet again.
