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by Carey Heywood


  I can lightly smell the scent of my body lotion on my skin. Somewhere between the bath and bed, he rubbed me down. I pout, sad I wasn’t awake to enjoy it.

  I watch Adam as he sleeps, and I wonder what this will mean for the remainder of our trip. He was upfront last night. He doesn’t want a relationship. Is this a onetime event? Or will we continue as lovers? I’m now craving his body more than ever before, I fear there’s a chance I don’t have the same effect on him.

  When I can no longer ignore my bladder, I all too easily slip free of his hold. I duck under the netting, and then I walk naked and unashamed to the bathroom.

  I’m finger combing my now dampened hair when I hear him frantically call out my name.

  I peek my head out the door, now suddenly shy. “Yes?”

  Even through the netting, I can see how wild his eyes are until they settle on me. He drops his head into his hands, his shoulders shaking. I hurry over to him, pulling the netting to the side to get to him. He straightens only long enough to fold me into his arms. He buries his face into my neck, and my arms are around his shoulders.

  “Shh,” I soothe. “I’m right here.”

  His voice breaks as he says, “I dreamed you were hurt, and I couldn’t...” He shudders. “And then, I woke up, and you were gone. I have to take care of you.”

  “Adam, look at me.”

  Stormy gray eyes reluctantly meet mine. I hold his gaze, my fingertips tracing his jawline on both sides, until his breathing calms. His grip around me tightens as he drops his lips to my neck.

  “Wait,” I plead, stopping him. “What happened?”

  He shakes his head against my neck, his stubble lightly scratching my skin.

  With the palms of my hands, I push against his shoulders. “Please tell me.”

  He lifts my hands before tugging me back closer to him. “I lost someone once, someone I was supposed to be watching out for.”

  I don’t know what to say. I do the only thing I can think of to take his mind off whatever happened. I pull his lips to mine. He hesitates briefly before surrendering to me.

  This time, I’m the one with complete control. I push his shoulders back until he rests against the pillows before I sink down onto him. Our hands clasp, our eyes lock, until the storm in his subside. With that, a familiar glint appears, my melancholy Adam gone. I’m flipped onto my back as Adam, the first man, begins his worship.

  “Do you still want to go?”

  I’ve grown too used to the feel of his arms around me. I absentmindedly trace the nail beds of his fingers, trying to make up my mind.

  Finally, I glance back at him. “I’m a little scared.”

  He pushes my hair aside to look into my eyes. “The guides will have guns, and it’s almost the same route we took yesterday.”

  I gulp. “But it’s dark outside.”

  He folds my hands into his and kisses my cheek. “I’ll protect you.”

  “Okay,” I whisper.

  We shower together, perhaps nervous about leaving the Eden we created today. Once dressed and ready, fingers interlaced, we walk to the patio to join the other guests for dinner. Chelle raises her glass and winks as we walk in. I laugh, not really caring. They all assume we’re a couple anyway.

  Over dinner, Adam sets up our night ride. We’ll leave shortly after dinner and be back at the lodge three hours later. Our goal is to see the lions hunt. I’m going for Adam more than myself.

  I feel like he needs me near him right now. I also guiltily think of Ally for the first time today, thinking she would have been disappointed in me if I’d let my fear hold me back.

  I’m shaking in the seat next to Adam, so he tucks me in closer to his side. Our Jeep creeps at a slower pace than it moved the day before. I don’t know if it’s because of the visibility or to avoid scaring off the lions.

  I think the moon and stars were bright the night Adam pulled me out to look at the moonbow. Away from the lodge, they seem even brighter even though the night is slightly overcast.

  We have binocular-type, night-vision viewers. I don’t like them. It takes a few moments for my eyes to focus when I stop looking out of mine. It scares me, making me feel like a lion or something else can sneak up on me in those moments, and I wouldn’t know.

  Our Jeep stops, slightly elevated, looking out over a wide grassy expanse. In hushed tones, the driver and the other man point toward something I can’t see.

  Adam hurriedly sets up his tripod on the seat on the other side of him, mumbling something about aperture and the light being good this close to sunset. He asks that we all sit still, so the camera won’t shake. The guides seem used to this kind of request.

  I feel vulnerable, scared something will come up from behind us. I cave and resort to using the night-vision viewers again. My heart thumps so wildly that I’m certain it’s going to shake the Jeep and ruin Adam’s pictures.

  There, in the grass below us, the cats feed. We missed the hunt but observe the feast. I want to look away, the gore is too much for me, but I know his lens are trained on the carnage.

  What seems like forever later, Adam exhales, and his shoot is over. Our guides offer to take us by a watering hole that’s had a lot of crocodile activity. Adam takes one look at my face and declines. On our slow trek back to the lodge, he reminds me with a whispered kiss beneath my ear that there are still crocodiles in Australia.

  Back at the lodge, we retreat into our room and our netted garden. We ready our bags for our morning departure before undressing each other for bed. We don’t make love that night. Instead, we drift off to sleep, chest-to-chest, with my head tucked under his chin.

  The next morning, I’m sad to leave our little Eden. I wonder if the magic we created will be lost as we move on to India. I briefly consider if I should leave some of Ally’s ashes at the Kapani Lodge, but then I decide instead to keep that stop in my heart for just Adam.

  I sleep on the long journey to the airport. Our flight takes us to a larger regional airport that then takes us to New Delhi. From there, a hired car takes us to our hotel in Agra, from the lodge it was a nineteen-hour journey.

  Thankfully, our suite-style hotel room is air-conditioned. It’s similar to the Royal Chundu by the falls. Adam ignores his room altogether, putting his things next to mine.

  There’s a rooftop restaurant where he goes to grab us food from while I shower and change. I tried to sleep on the plane but just couldn’t get comfortable.

  Showered, changed, and sprawled out across a queen-sized bed feels life-changing. I’m dozing when Adam walks in a while later.

  “You’ll be starving later if you don’t eat something,” he whispers, nibbling at my ear to wake me.

  I groan, wishing he would just snuggle up to me and go to sleep instead. He takes a quick shower while I convince myself to get up. I make it as far as the lounge when he walks out, still damp, basketball shorts riding low on his hips.

  “Did you ever play?” I ask, gesturing toward his shorts.

  He shakes his head, unpacking the boxes and making each of us a plate. “I was overweight through most of school.”

  My jaw drops as he passes me my plate. I try to play off my reaction, but he sees it.

  “When I lost my mom, I started using food as a way to make myself feel better. I was young, and my dad seemed on board. We gained weight together.”

  I smile down at my plate when I see he’s gotten me simple brown rice and sweet bread, but I pause when I think about the hard time he gave me about food in London. “Why would you tease me about being a picky eater?”

  “You were fun to tease. Plus, I still think it’s good to try different things, just in moderation.”

  He holds out his plate, showing me the different things he’s trying. I do my best not to laugh at his pained expression when he tries the spiciest portion of his plate.

  “How did you lose the weight?”

  I’m surprised at the thunderclouds that shadow his gray eyes briefly as he’s pulled so
mewhere in his mind.

  After a moment, he simply replies, “It was time to change.”

  I’m either too tired or cautious to push it.

  After we eat, we crawl into bed. Our hunger now for each other. This place is so different from our luxuriously rustic Eden, surrounded by almost untouched nature. Now, we’re in one of the most populated countries in the world. Instead of birdsong, we hear the faint sounds of a Bollywood film coming from a TV in the room next to ours. Gone is the romantic tent-like netting that made our last room feel so isolated.

  Even though everything else has changed, we’re still the same. I’m relieved, and I give myself to him fully. Part of me stops feeling truly alive unless he’s within me.

  This night, my back is to his chest, and his body covers mine. I lose myself when I feel his lips dust my tattoo. The power he wields over my body leaves me breathless. His obsession with my skin hasn’t dulled. His hands and lips never rest in their exploration of me. I take my time exploring him as well.

  Before sleep can take us, I reward his gallant act of fetching us dinner with a neck and shoulder rub. He sits quietly, head drooped, as my fingertips search to bring relief to whatever tension I can find living there. With my bare legs bent on either side of him, he can’t resist pulling my feet into his lap. As I massage him, he rubs them, both of us helping the other to rid any lingering soreness from our travels.

  My time reveling in touching him is cut short after I lightly trace his tattoo and kiss it. He turns, pinning me beneath him, and takes my mouth in his. There’s an urgency there that I don’t understand, but I rise to meet it.

  “God, Aubrey, what are you doing to me?” he groans against my lips as he plunges into me.

  His lips steal any opportunity that I have to respond. I can barely breathe, but if I pass out, I’ll be tasting his lips. A release I don’t feel coming shudders through me, pulling him over as well. We lie there, panting and staring at each other, wide-eyed.

  He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “I didn’t see you coming.”

  I start to ask him what that means, but he shakes his head, dipping his lips to mine and sweetly kissing me.

  It might seem silly, but with my mom’s help before the trip, I bought a ring especially for my visit to the Taj Mahal. Security is tight, and I don’t want to have to explain Ally’s ashes to them. So, instead of my little plastic container, I have an old pillbox ring. I won’t be able to bring as much of Ally as I want, but I know this place is special to her. I leave the rest of Ally’s ashes in our room.

  I also don’t want to get so lost in Adam that I forget the real reason I’m on this trip in the first place. I need to find myself and take time to say good-bye.

  Out of all the places in the world, Ally always wanted to visit India in particular. There’s something so exotic and romantic about it, especially the Taj Mahal. She wanted to see its reflection across the pools for herself.

  The idea always seemed so romantic to me—a memorial built to the love of your life. It also makes me wonder how the Emperor Shah Jahan’s other wives felt about it.

  The area around the Taj Mahal is considered pollution-free, so no cars are allowed near it. August in India is still oppressively hot. Our plan for our days in the country is to visit the places we want to see early in the day and be back in our room before the sun makes it uncomfortably hot.

  We hire a rickshaw to take us there. Only, the driver keeps trying to take us shopping instead, pissing off Adam. We were warned prior to coming to India that anyone who tries to lead you to a certain shop is probably getting some sort of commission.

  I know Adam is just excited to start taking pictures. Architectural elements seem to be his favorite things to take pictures of. He still enjoys the shots he took in Africa. It’s just that he’s more inspired by human creation than natural scenes.

  I think it has to do with feeling in control. He can examine and capture the pieces of a building and understand how they came together. Nature, while beautiful, is unpredictable. Adam likes control.

  When he reaches for my hand, I pause, looking around. Aren’t there rules against public displays of affection? “Are we allowed?”

  He actually smiles. “Yes, Aubrey. We’re allowed to hold hands, anything more probably not.”

  Despite the heat, in case we have time to see the mosques, I’m wearing a long maxi skirt and a long-sleeved lightweight cotton shirt. Once we’re through security and have our water and shoe covers, we pull out our phones. We both have walking tours of the Taj Mahal uploaded to them.

  We hold hands, pausing whenever Adam wants to take some pictures, and we make our way around the grounds. At one point, as I watch him taking some pictures, it hits me that no one perfect shot or angle can truly capture its beauty. I wonder if this wasn’t a tomb, if it would still feel sad. A famous poet called the Taj Mahal “a teardrop on the cheek of time.”

  We’re not allowed to take pictures inside the mausoleum, but Adam takes many up-close pictures of the inlay stonework outside. The white marble is so bright against the blue sky.

  Depending on the angle, it almost hurts to look directly at it. As numbers of workers and years of construction fill my thoughts, I try to imagine the Taj Mahal as it was being built. The emperor had planned a mirror-image black tomb to sit across the river, but his son stopped him. I’m almost happy that happened because the emperor is now buried with his wife here.

  Adam has me sit on a bench, so he can take my picture with the tomb behind me. I rest my ring hand on top of my other on my lap. Then, he sits next to me, holding his camera out to get both of our faces in the shot. A person walks by and offers to take a picture for us, but he declines, leery of handing his pretty expensive camera to a stranger. I stay on the bench, turning to look back at the iconic view. Adam gets up to go look at something near us.

  Throughout the day, I struggle with where to release Ally’s ashes. There are beautiful, elaborate gardens all around the grounds, but none of them feel right. I decide there, on that bench, in that unwatched moment, that Ally should have that view of the Taj. I bend down and pretend to adjust the strap of my sandal, but I slowly spill her ashes instead. The small gray hill they form is so different from the previous ones. I lay my hand on top of them, pressing them into the ground beneath me, and I make her one with this place.

  We walk to the small gift shop and find another charm for my bracelet. Just outside the shop, Adam hooks it on for me. I now have five charms on my bracelet, and I feel comfort in its weight on my wrist. The heat begins to bother both of us, so we bid farewell to the Taj not long after.

  We head back to our hotel, and we are happy to eat the food from the night before. I change into shorts and an old T-shirt and nap while Adam uploads and edits pictures on his computer.

  I’m just starting to wake up when he crawls into bed with me.

  “Stay with me,” he pleads, pulling me closer.

  I turn, wrapping my arms around his neck. “You should have taken a nap first.”

  He buries his face in my neck. “I know.”

  I laugh, pulling back to look at his sleepy face. “Did you get all your pictures uploaded and edited?”

  His eyes close as he nods. “Most of them.”

  I figure a longer nap isn’t such a bad idea, and I settle down into his arms.

  When we awake, he shows me pictures from the trip so far. I’ve seen the ones from London already, but it’s fun to think back to the other places we’ve visited, the things we’ve seen. Since the hotel has Wi-Fi, I have him email some of my favorite ones to me, so I can send them in an email to my parents. Guilt is the main reason I email. I don’t want them to worry, and I haven’t sent them anything in a while.

  I look at my watch, trying to figure out the time difference, when I realize I never changed the time zone to Agra. “Have you seen my manual?” I ask, digging through my bag.

  He walks over to me and unhooks my watch from my wrist. “I think you sh
ould lose the watch.”

  I watch as he drops it into my suitcase. “But how will I know what time it is?”

  He clears his throat and pulls his phone out of his pocket.

  I duck my head, resting my forehead against his chest. “Oh my God, I’m a dumbass.”

  He slips his phone back into his pocket and rubs my back with both hands. “Happens to all of us.”

  I rest my cheek flat against his chest. “We’re halfway done, you know.”

  His hands pause for a moment before they begin again. “I know.”

  I peer up at him. “So, what should we do now?”

  He tilts his head to the side. “We could walk around and find a place to have dinner.”

  Though slightly wrinkled, my clothes from earlier are still clean. I change into them, and we hold hands as we walk around Agra. We stay near our hotel, not wanting to have a long walk back. I check out a few shops, finding a pretty purple sari to bring home for my mom and a green one for myself.

  We have dinner. I don’t eat much. The least spicy dish is still too much for me. When we get back to our hotel, Adam runs up to get me sweet bread from the rooftop restaurant. I surprise him by changing into my sari while he’s gone. My food is forgotten once he’s back, his full attention on unwrapping me.

  I wake up the next morning to him playing with my hair. I squint up at him. “Having fun?”

  He nods, pushing some into my eyes. I smooth it back before reaching to tousle his hair.

  “A few years ago, my hair was closer to your length,” I admit.

  He reaches out to run his fingers through my hair again, not messing it up this time. “Why so short?”

  I close my eyes, partly because what he’s doing feels good and also because I’m not sure if I can talk about Ally and not get upset. “My aunt had chemo and started losing her hair, so my parents and I shaved our heads.”

  His fingers move down to trace the wings on my back. “This aunt?”

  I nod. “Ally.”

  “Do you want to talk about her?”

 

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