I am a young, striking woman with very dark almost poreless skin and long, relaxed hair. My husband looks like a thirtysomething cross between Eric McCormack and Dylan McDermott with a dash of East Asian thrown in. There is a distance between us but also a longing. Like something has gone dreadfully wrong, like a dream that hasn’t been crushed but silenced. My husband and I are in an American embassy in a country somewhere in Sub-Saharan Africa. He goes off to speak with some high muckety mucks.
I see a friend. She’s a pretty, blond cheerleader type. We go to the meeting and I run into a guy I went to high school with. Back then he was the captain of the basketball team. They do call them captains, right? What was his name? Marco. Though both local we ended up at the same high school in America. I introduce him to Becky and that’s when shit hits the fan. There is an uprising. A civil affair. The Americans are not specific targets but, because it is always nice for a Cause to claim a few American deaths, the embassy is on lock down. If they knew my husband was there he would be targeted. Part of the issue is something to do with the company at which he has a high position.
Hours pass, the violence goes on, and things get increasingly tense. My husband is standing by a window and I speak sharply, “Get away from there! You’re a high priority target.”
He stumbles back from the window and sits down abruptly on the floor. His face is stricken and I move forward to comfort him but Becky makes it there before me. They wrap their arms around each other in an embrace that just looks right. Two beautiful people sharing deep emotion. Something inside me twists.
Marco is there. He sees my face. We make eye contact and he holds out his arms. I take my emotions and wrap them up neatly and put them away. Walking up to Marco I put my hand on his shoulder, smile slightly, shake my head, and walk away.
***************************
Becky and my husband end their embrace. Marco tells my husband, “You need to go comfort your wife.”
Husband glances at him. “You don’t know her. She’s strong.”
“So are diamonds. But you hit them the right way and they shatter. She looked pretty shattered to me.”
The two hold eye contact for a minute then my husband leaves the room to find me.
****************************
He finds me in a hallway near a pair of balcony doors. “Are you okay?”
“Of course. Aren’t I always?”
He pauses and asks, “Do you know why I asked you to marry me?”
“You needed someone with standing in the community. I was attractive and convenient.”
He winces. “You heard me talking to your father.”
I shrug.
“In my defense I never said convenient.”
“No, that was Father.”
“Then why did you say yes?”
“I suppose I could say Father pressured me, which he did. But he never would have forced me into marriage. The truth is I wanted to marry you.” I raise my eyes to his. “I wanted you.”
“There were other women I could have married. I asked you because I wanted you.” He raised his hand to my cheek. Until his fingers came away wet I hadn’t realized I was crying. “I want you.”
We kiss and end up making love in an empty office while bombs explode in the distance.