Laying in Slumber
By Ani

‘There must be something seriously wrong with me if I’m willing to get up at three am on a Saturday morning for a guy,’ muttered the lone woman padding along in her ugg boots to the only cafe open at the time: Allegra’s Cafe.

It was a little dreary cafe before a new couple bought it and made their mark in the busy metropolis by turning it into a chic little nesting hole for early risers and late sleepers. It had opened with the new management a few years back and it had then become one of her favourite cafes. Their café was the only one to open early even before the sun itself made its appearance in the mornings.

The little door bell tinkled as she opened the door and she welcomed the rush of the warm aroma and air passing her cheeks, glad to be leaving behind the chill of the winter night. Mrs. Esposito, behind the counter, smiled and greeted her. “Ragazza, sure you haven’t gotten the day wrong again? Its three AM on a Saturday. You don’t come in at least until after eleven,” she said moving towards the coffee maker to warm it up.

She shook her head. “Tessa-senora, I’m a little over twenty now, you know there are only a few things that can get me out of bed at this time of the day on this particular day of the week. You even get Daniel to deliver my coffee sometimes,” she finished sticking her tongue out.

Mrs. Esposito nodded to the little corner of the cafe, the corner with the view of the terrace. “He wouldn’t be one of the reasons would he?” The woman turned and she found herself staring at the reason why, she left her warm bed at an ungodly hour to trudge down to Allegra’s with only a coat to cover the Harry Potter pyjamas she’d bought earlier in the season.

“Tessa-senora, you know me too well.” She said shaking her head and smiling at the aging beauty. “You’re a little more than twenty-three ragazza. Go, he’s been looking nervous and MR Esposito keeps thinking he’ll lose this woman to that handsome guy,” Tessa said laughing.

“I’m right to worry aren’t I though Bella?” Mr. Esposito called out from behind his newspaper, his seat closest to the window full of flowers. The two women giggled at him. “Tell your little Daniel I will marry him as soon as has enough money to buy a ring,” the woman said smiling. The older woman laughed at the girl and shooed her away from the counter, “your coffee will be over. Go talk to him.”

Taking a breath, she moved to the booth slowly eyes locked at the side profile of the man’s head. She stopped next to him and he rose hearing her arrive and his face twitched into an edgy smile. “How have you been?” he asked, as they both sat down into their seats. “As well as can be expected. How long have you been back?” she replied, playing along with his small chit chat.

“Excuse me, here’s your coffee, Bella.” She turned and saw the owners’ budding young son standing there looking very proud of himself, holding her seemingly large cup of coffee. She took it from him and laughed seeing her favourite 'ring' biscuits on the plate. “Thank you Daniel.” With a breathy “answer soon” he rushed off to hide behind the counter again.

“A little over six months actually,” he continued, his form relaxing slightly. “Hmm…” she sounded, sipping her coffee watching the sprinkle of rain outside. She thanked her stars that she lived only two buildings down.

“So, you can’t possible have wanted to incur my wrath badly enough, unless there was something important to discuss,” she said business-like, putting her coffee cup down.

“I couldn’t just have just wanted to see how you were doing? We are old friends after all.”

She harrumphed, thoroughly frustrated at his wording of their relationship. “You may not remember but I absolutely hate being out of bed Saturday mornings. And we’re not teenagers anymore where people we barely knew were immediately called friends. It not like we’re not exactly friends anyway right?”

“I’d like to think so,” he said slight annoyance - or was it sadness - seeping into his own voice. He looked away as he sipped his own strong brew. “I couldn’t sleep," he confessed.

“And so you decided to interrupt mine?”

“Sorry already,” he sighed and ran a hand through his already ruffled hair, “I’m getting married.”

“Umm… Ok, congratulations?” She frowned, not understanding where the conversation was going.

“Well… I haven’t asked so…” He smiled at her sheepishly. She rolled her eyes. “You shouldn’t be starting rumours before you’ve asked her you know. What if the news gets back to her first? Then what? She'll freak out and refuse to marry you and everything I'm sure you'd have had planned - because you plan everything out so well in advance - would have all be for nothing! Then you'd have to take Mrs Esposito from Mr Esposito just to get married - not that you have to try because I'm sure she'll go willingly, and then I will have no place who will deliver me coffee in bed at two PM on a Saturday afternoon, because Mr Esposito will be heartbroken and leave Daniel by himself to run this place. Do you want that? Hmm?” He smiled letting her rant; it had always been something that he was fond of. She could always find a way to make things into her, through some ridiculous way.

“Sorry,” he breathed, covering his face with his hand. “I don’t want any more sorrys from you. I want to know why we’re here, why are you telling me this now?” she said exasperated, slightly breathless from her rant.

“I…I needed you to do something for me before I could,” he stuttered out, “I… I don’t know! I’ve got this ring,” he didn't pause even for a moment, removing a small velvet box from his pocket and sliding it across the table to her. “I know how I’m going to do it; I’ve got seats reserved at the La Italiana. But I needed to see… you.”

“I don’t understand,’ she muttered into her coffee, avoiding the blue velvet box with her eyes. She didn't want to see. She didn't want to know that the box was from Tiffany's (imported from the US of course) - didn't want to know that he'd spent - what others called a fortune - the traditional month's salary. But it was his salary - and she knew he earned a lot.

“I don’t know either but it’s like… I need you to let go.”

“I need to?” she retaliated, her drained energy coming back with force. “You were the one that needed time that stopped everything; everything between us – friendship, companionship, colleagueship, before anything could even start." She paused and bit into a biscuit to calm her. It worked. "I forgave you for that a long time ago,” she muttered, the chocolate allowing the secretion of soothing hormones into her bloodstream.

“If you’re here with me instead of her, maybe you’re the one that hasn’t let go. Maybe you’re not ready.”

They sat there letting the café’s music wash over them. She'd won him over with that one, and she wanted him to mull it over. He wouldn't pin this on her - passing up a chance like this - hurting the poor girl - not over some... some kind of fling they had had during high school. She surprised at how liberally loose her tear ducts were.

“Did you… still… want me after everything that I did?” He said brokenly.

“I did, but that to be expected right? It’s like taking away a toy from a child.” His upper lip twitched at her use of words.

“Remember our first date?”

She smiled remembering the memory she'd brought up many times during periods of sadness. “You asked me on a date and we spent half the night deciding where to go. At the end of it, I asked if you were serious. I couldn’t believe that you wanted to spend time with me. You were mad at me.”

“And then you were absolutely and adorably flustered, because it was your first ever date. And as we ate at Central Park you ate your lunch so quietly, not at all looking at it or at me.”

“I just wanted to be with you, but I didn't know how.”

He paused, trying to hear some longing in her voice, but detecting none.

“You said you forgave me.”

“I did.”

“Do you still want me?” he asked or demanded, watching her face. Her face showed genuine shock then indignation.

“Maybe you should be asking yourself that question. You’re here with me of all places, of all the times you could’ve chosen, asking me this, delaying the engagement I’m sure your girlfriend has been waiting for, hinting probably even, for so long.” She let that set in, before adding, “you’re asking me this? Now?”

He was quiet. She was right of course, why did he ask - feel the need to. She didn't owe him anything. But he had to know.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“If I said no? Or on the flipside, yes? What would you do?”

They stared at each other for the longest moment, before she gave in as she’d always done. Always, only for him. But not before she thought it through carefully picking her words. “I wanted you for the longest time. But I don’t want you now...” ‘Not like this,’ she added, silently in her mind. She didn't want trouble, didn't want to be the cause of anything bad between them - she wanted him to be the one to let go - on his own with this revelation.

He closed his eyes, and nodded. Thanking her, she didn’t know. She didn’t want to know. She turned away from him.

"Thank you," he whispered, not really wanting to break their silence. He put the box back into his pocket and left a couple of notes on the table for their coffee.

"I should go."

She nodded and stood, moving forward. They beso beso'd, as they'd always done saying goodbye. She was composing her face, moving to lean back, when he pulled her in tightly to him, hugging her small frame.

It was then, when she couldn't hold back, a few stray tears leaked from her ducts. Pressing her face into his coat jacket willing them away, she hugged him back. Their hugs had always seemed so full, not like those artificial ones where it was a moment's touch of bodies and then nothing. They were warm and fulfilling, and when she'd asked him what he'd thought of them so long ago, he'd surprised her with the same feeling. "Be ready when you ask," she said, her words muffled in the heavy cotton. He breathed her in, not sure if he'd be able to do so in the future, not sure if he'd see her again even. He was so uncertain of many things, but her answer and advice helped him along the way. He nodded, chin bumping into her head.

She pulled away first, blinking rapidly to keep the tears away and punched him playfully. "See you around."

"Bye," he said smiling. Moving to the door he thanked the kind, smiling Mrs Esposito and went on his way through the lightening metropolitan.

Sinking back into her chair, she sat, feeling numb. What had she just done?

She rushed back home, smiling briefly to the small Italian family - sure they'd find the money (not that they'd worry much) and collapsed on her unmade bed. She didn't have time to catch her breath from the small run, before the gate she'd kept closed over the recent years for her, for them, for him, opened, releasing a flood of tears.

Could she finally let him go? Let what he did go, the things they'd sacrificed go be for nothing? Let the them in her head go? She'd wondered and sometimes secretly hoped that this meeting would occur, that he'd sweep her into his arms and let her keep him. She had been torn, wanting him and doing the right thing. She had to do it, she reasoned with herself. She had to. No longer was it just them involved, there was someone else with a stake in it too. She just hoped he'd do the right thing.

It was a little past ten o'clock, but she'd finally fallen asleep under her covers, having shrugged off her coat and boots; all the while - wondering and dreaming of what the future would hold in store for her.

Author’s note: All mine - similarities to/in real life are coincidences. Something small before I head to the doctor’s tomorrow and have teh blood sucked out of me. I don’t want them to suck the ideas and stories out either. XD;;