Hotel Room Curtains

The door opened and, suddenly, I wasn’t basking in complete darkness anymore. I squinted slightly, attempting to get a proper glance at the dark silhouette in contrast with the protruding light outside. His familiar stance caused a dripping sense of relief to wash over me. I sighed. He paused slightly before closing the door behind him. I stood up from my seat on the floor in front of the hotel room curtains. I wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans.

“Hi.” He mumbled. I replied with a quick nod.

His proud stance faltered for the duration of his approach. Soon enough, I could feel the heartbreak radiating off of my own skin onto the surface of his. I pressed my lips into a thin line, “So, you proposed.” The words escaped my lips in a monotone manner.

“Yeah,” he started, “but we’re supposed to break up February of next year.” He assured me. I felt tired. Weak. He always reassured me that this publicity stunt would be over and that one day, we’d be together. Publicly.

I always doubted his words. I trusted him, and all I wanted was to be with him, but sadly, it would always lead to intimate exchanges in hotel rooms where no one saw us enter at the same time. We strategically planned our meetings to ensure that his image would not be sabotaged. We’d enter and leave at separate hours. At times, I’d leave days after he would and visa versa.

I nodded slowly. He took a step closer and I was enveloped in his arms. I hugged him back, my hands clutching his shirt like a vice. Like he was my vice. Which, in fact, he was.

“I promise,” he started, “when this is all over, we’ll be able to go out and hold hands. We’ll be able to purchase our own house with a beautiful garden where you can do your writing. I promise we won’t have to rent out hotel rooms for days on end.” He situated his head on top of my own as I ignored the pain of his chin in my scalp. He carried on,

“And even if we do, we won’t have to close the curtains.”

I exhaled and held him tighter. For the first time, something changed. After songs written about the hint of gold in my eyes, after endless posts about forbidden love, after the tricks he pulled to ensure that I would have him in my arms, after secret dates, after fights that should have ended it all- something changed.

For the first time, I wasn’t the only one drowning in doubt, as the uncertainty oozed from his every pore.

He held me tighter as if he felt, for the first time, that I might slip away.

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