At first I thought there was something wrong. Lilith rarely called me after her flight. I was surprised and rather glad to find that she had called me for a late night chat.
She apologised for waking me-forgetting that I was three hours behind her. I corrected her and assured her it was fine, to be honest, it was more than fine.
We didn't really get to talk about much in the half an hour of our conversation, but it was comforting to hear her voice before I went to sleep. Especially as my sheets still smelt of her beautiful perfume. I could snuggle up in the covers smelling her sweet scent and hearing her gorgeous voice through the telephone.
"Oh, Brian's coming. I told him I was going to take a shower." She said, letting out a slight devious giggle. "I'd better go."
I did wonder why Lilith had felt the need to lie to Brian about calling me. But then again, she only ever usually called me to do with matters concerning Frederick, and so I suppose he would find it odd that she had called me at 11:20 her time, when Frederick was there with her.
I decided not to protest. "Okay, good night, Sweetheart."
As if it were possible, I could hear her smile through the phone at my endearing comment. "Goodnight, Frasier."
I held the phone lingering to my ear until I heard the dial tone. I didn't want to lose a second of hearing her breath until the call was over.
We had had the most amazing late night chats when she was here with me. We'd lie in my bed; each led on our sides, facing each other. We'd smile in remembrance of Frederick's first steps. She'd scold me with a smirk, when I told her that I still had the photo's she had given me for my birthday some years ago. I'd watch her eyes light up as she'd tell me of all the new exhibit's at our favourite art gallery in Boston, and how much she wishes I could've been there to see them with her. She told me that Brian didn't appreciate art, "Oh, he's intellectual, yes. Very clever man. But he's just incapable of interpreting art. Y'know that new artist, Alfred DeMouve? Well, I asked Brian what he thought of DeMouve's 'Sadness In a Blue World', and do you know what he said? 'The colours are pretty, I suppose.' Honestly. " She laughed. "I suppose I'm just so used to viewing art with you, it feels strange to hear a layman's explanation."
There was even a night when we'd cried together. We had somehow let our guard down enough to allow ourselves to talk about the end of our relationship. We talked for over 2 hours about how we hadn't meant to say some of harsh things that were said. We were both hurting and although the divorce was decided by both of us, we shouldn't have let ourselves become bitter and vindictive. By the end of the conversation I stroked the tearstains from her cheeks and she did the same for me. I kissed her forehead gently as she shuffled into my arms. We woke up in the same position.
She apologised for waking me-forgetting that I was three hours behind her. I corrected her and assured her it was fine, to be honest, it was more than fine.
We didn't really get to talk about much in the half an hour of our conversation, but it was comforting to hear her voice before I went to sleep. Especially as my sheets still smelt of her beautiful perfume. I could snuggle up in the covers smelling her sweet scent and hearing her gorgeous voice through the telephone.
"Oh, Brian's coming. I told him I was going to take a shower." She said, letting out a slight devious giggle. "I'd better go."
I did wonder why Lilith had felt the need to lie to Brian about calling me. But then again, she only ever usually called me to do with matters concerning Frederick, and so I suppose he would find it odd that she had called me at 11:20 her time, when Frederick was there with her.
I decided not to protest. "Okay, good night, Sweetheart."
As if it were possible, I could hear her smile through the phone at my endearing comment. "Goodnight, Frasier."
I held the phone lingering to my ear until I heard the dial tone. I didn't want to lose a second of hearing her breath until the call was over.
We had had the most amazing late night chats when she was here with me. We'd lie in my bed; each led on our sides, facing each other. We'd smile in remembrance of Frederick's first steps. She'd scold me with a smirk, when I told her that I still had the photo's she had given me for my birthday some years ago. I'd watch her eyes light up as she'd tell me of all the new exhibit's at our favourite art gallery in Boston, and how much she wishes I could've been there to see them with her. She told me that Brian didn't appreciate art, "Oh, he's intellectual, yes. Very clever man. But he's just incapable of interpreting art. Y'know that new artist, Alfred DeMouve? Well, I asked Brian what he thought of DeMouve's 'Sadness In a Blue World', and do you know what he said? 'The colours are pretty, I suppose.' Honestly. " She laughed. "I suppose I'm just so used to viewing art with you, it feels strange to hear a layman's explanation."
There was even a night when we'd cried together. We had somehow let our guard down enough to allow ourselves to talk about the end of our relationship. We talked for over 2 hours about how we hadn't meant to say some of harsh things that were said. We were both hurting and although the divorce was decided by both of us, we shouldn't have let ourselves become bitter and vindictive. By the end of the conversation I stroked the tearstains from her cheeks and she did the same for me. I kissed her forehead gently as she shuffled into my arms. We woke up in the same position.