Brief Encounters
They met once a year, on average. This year for example it was in a hotel on the outskirts of Montreal, he had flown in from the Rockies and she from the east coast. He had got to the hotel first and claimed the booking, he said his wife would be arriving later on a different flight. The receptionist, who had heard variations on this story many times before, pretended to believe him. She arrived two hours later, by which point he had unpacked, changed and was waiting in the bar. They hugged and kissed each other on the cheek, she took the room card and went upstairs to unpack and change and, when she came down again and walked across the bar, as always, his eyes kindled with longing.
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They had first met at college where they had spent a few heady years together until the time had come to graduate and go their separate ways. As students often do, they had vowed to be friends forever. And, as students too often do, they had lost touch shortly after. A few years after that, fate conspired to put them in the same room together - by then he was a professor of law, she was a rising police officer, and they were both at a legal reform conference. They circled each other warily for an evening, then a kiss goodbye turned into something more and they spent the entire night in her hotel room - despite their history, it was their first time together. Afterwards, they had decided to be sensible (or, as we are telling a version of the truth here, she had decided to be sensible and he had never been able to refuse anything she wanted) and return back to their lives. They lived almost two thousand miles apart after all, and both had careers they enjoyed and were succeeding at.
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He got up from the table at the bar, greeted her with an affectionate nickname, and she responded similarly as he kissed her hand. Then she hooked her arm through his and they walked out to have dinner in a discreet but elegant restaurant the hotel had recommended.
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The next time they met it was nine months later, and she was getting married. She had invited all her friends from college to celebrate with her - there had been laughter, drinking and reminiscence, until one by one their friends drifted away and it was just the two of them left. He invited her to take a walk with him to clear their heads, the following day when they had a brief dance at the reception only their closest friends noticed there was something more complicated than affectionate friendship in their eyes as they looked at each other.
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At the restaurant, they ordered dinner. He ordered a bottle of wine to accompany it - it was a skill he had acquired over the years, in memory of a mutual friend - and they ate, drank and laughed. They talked about their jobs and their mutual friends and interests, but after long practice they had reached an agreement not to talk about anything more personal. Often their eyes met over the table and conversation stopped, it was difficult to talk and smile at the same time.
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The time after that they met it was almost fourteen months later. Her mother had died, and she had come home for the funeral of somebody she had not seen in many years. He offered to support her through the ordeal and let her sleep in his spare room, she told her husband it was something she needed to do alone, hugged him and left for the funeral. She did not spend the two nights she was there in his spare room.
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After dinner was over they went for a walk, arm in arm and slightly buzzed from the wine they drank and from each other. They stopped and laughed and applauded a street clown who was making clever balloon figures, she smiled affectionately as he gave the clown a generous tip, took a balloon flower and solemnly presented it to her. Afterwards, they went to a bar. The balloon flower got caught in the crowd and burst, she looked so sad that he kissed her on the lips for the first time that night and bought a drink that reminded her of happier times.
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The time after that they gave up the pretence that their need for each other was contingent upon chance and circumstance. A little over a year passed and he booked a hotel in New York. He invented a conference he needed to attend, she claimed she needed to interview a witness NYPD were holding. They spent three nights in the hotel room and subsisted on room service. He paid the bill with a card drawing on an account set up exclusively for this purpose.
"I'm getting married," he said as he watched her put her wedding ring back on on the last day.
"Does that mean we have to stop doing this?" She said.
"No."
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They didn't stay long in the bar, just long enough to get their buzz back. They walked back to the hotel and headed straight for the lift. As the door closed he kissed her again, this time the kiss was hungry, desperate and didn't stop until the door opened on their floor. Hand in hand they ran the length of the corridor to their room. Laughing with nervous energy, they fumbled the key card on the first attempt.
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The next time they met it was eight months later, and he was getting married. Their friends gathered again for another reunion, there was more drinking, laughter and reminiscence. When their friends departed and it was just the two of them left, she reminded him of the night before her wedding. He told her he had not forgotten. When they shared a brief dance after the wedding, once again only their oldest friends noticed something complicated about the way they were looking at each other. Only one of them remembered seeing the same look at her wedding.
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He fumbled taking his suit off - he couldn't stop looking at her face, which was shining with a mixture of laughter and desire. She unfastened her dress and slid it off her shoulders, he stopped looking at her face.
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The next time they met it was thirteen months later, and it was glorious. He told his wife he was accompanying a student party to Paris and had to be there a week early to ensure arrangements for accommodation, coursework and so on were in place (he was accompanying a student party, he did not have to be there a week early). She told her husband she had been invited to attend an Interpol conference in the same city (there was a conference, she was not a delegate). They spent a week together in the City of Light and spent barely a moment of it apart. On the final day, he escorted her to the airport.
"I'm pregnant." She told him just before saying goodbye and boarding her plane. He thought this was the last time they would do this. Seven months later, she had a baby son.
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They rolled apart, their bodies glowing with sweat, exhaustion and release. She ran her finger down his chest and smiled at him, then looked down and frowned slightly.
"You didn't give me time to take my stockings off," she said. "They're ruined."
"They died in a good cause," he said with a grin. "I'll buy you some more."
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It wasn't. Eighteen months later, he was attending a conference - genuinely, this time - in a city near to where she lived. He messaged her to let her know he was in the area and she told her boss an emergency had come up and she needed to take the day off. She was his most diligent employee so he believed her. They spent the day in his hotel room, he missed the conference sessions that day and she had to rush away afterwards to collect her baby from the nursery. The guilt ate at her and she vowed to herself never to do this again.
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Eventually, they fell asleep. He woke first, the smell of her was so intoxicating that he rolled over before he was fully awake, his knee slid between her knees to ease them apart. She woke up, looked at him with the smile he had never been able to resist.
"Good morning." She said.
"Good morning." He said. He finished parting her knees and eased himself between her legs. She gasped softly.
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It was a vow she couldn't keep. A little over a year later, she had a brutal row with her husband and left - he had been having an affair with a colleague at work (the hypocrisy of her rage quite escaped her) - she told him she was going to be with her brother for a few days. Her brother lived in the same town as he does, he left work early each day she was there and told his wife he was working late. After she calmed down, she agreed to forgive her husband and patch things together for the sake of their son.
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They just made it down in time for breakfast. They giggled and laughed and looked at each other constantly. Some of the other guests thought they looked like a honeymoon couple and were charmed by their obvious happiness. After breakfast, he took her shopping. They went to an upmarket lingerie store where he bought two pairs of stockings.
"You only ruined one pair." She said.
"we've got another night yet," he said with a sly smile. She blushed.
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A year later, they were due to meet in New Orleans. A month before, she discovered she was pregnant again. A week before, she had a miscarriage. For the first time, she cancelled.
They met up three months later instead, for the first time they didn't spend most of their time in bed. He held her while she cried with grief at her loss, her husband had tried to console her but didn't really know how.
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They spent the day as tourists, visiting shops, looking at the sights. They held hands, laughed and kissed at random intervals. This time, they went back to their room early and ordered room service. They had to heavily tip the porter to pretend not to see what he saw, he proved foresighted in what he said at the lingerie store.
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A little under a year later, he told his wife he had an opportunity to attend a conference on international law in Montreal. The conference did not start until Monday, he told his wife he needed to fly out on Friday to prepare his presentation and attend a pre-conference dinner. She convinced her husband there was a fugitive that needed collecting.
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On the last day, she was getting dressed. "Do you think we're getting a little old to do this?" She said. "After all, I'm thirty eight and you're -"
"No." He said. "I'll never be too old not to need you in my life somehow." She smiled and blushed. They went down for breakfast, then he accompanied her on her taxi ride to the airport. They sat together in the departure lounge for as long as they could, she sighed and got up when the tannoy announced the last call for boarding.
"Well," She said. "Until the next time?" He smiled, and hugged her for a long time.
"Until the next time."
"Goodbye, Jeff."
"Goodbye, Annie."