Ipse Dixit: The Past Before
"Yes....yes" were the words that ran through her head; that gripped her and brought her back to reality. Dalia's clutching fingers released the fabric of his shirt, her palms flattened against his chest and she pushed herself away from his lips. Her eyes opened wide, with a conflicted look of desperation and disappointment she looked into his eyes then down.
"I....I...can't." She whispered.
Dalia stepped back, out of his embrace and looked at him directly.
"I can't." She repeated hoping she sounded confident, even defiant but the doubt and insecurity betrayed her tone.
His only response was to smile somewhat sadly and nod his head while she nervously adjusted her glasses. Dalia attempted to pull it together, trying to ignore the guilt and desire that was gnawing at her. Her fingers fidgeted with the wire frame of her glasses. When she realized he was looking at the ring on her finger, what small amount of confidence she had briefly gained slid from her and quickly she dropped her hand to her side trying to hide the gold band.
"I have to......I have to go." She lied meekly avoiding his gaze.
Again he nodded before stepping to the side, Dalia gave him a weak smile before stepping towards the door that opened to the top level of the public garage. Her fingers gripped the cold handle.
"Maybe I'll see you on the train?" He said softly.
The only indication she gave that she heard his words was the slight pause she took before turning the handle and stepping out of the stairway.
She walked to her car, got in and stared at the door to the stairway. She wanted it to open and for him to follow but she hoped it wouldn't. After staring at the closed door for two minutes Dalia leaned forward and rested her head on the steering wheel overwhelmed by disappointment and relief.
"How did this happen?" She thought to herself as she sat up and gazed blankly into the dashboard. "This" had started before today. "This" had started before she saw him at "Meier's Delicatessen" last week. Dalia first noticed him a few weeks earlier on the commuter train. He got on at a station before hers; that first day she noticed him giving up his seat to a pregnant woman. Her first thought was that he was a gentleman, the second was that he was rather easy on the eyes.
As the week continued and then became the next, she noticed he took the same inbound train as her three days a week. Always he dressed in a tie and fitted button down shirt that gave a hint of his muscled form. He was handsome but not pretty, attractive but not gorgeous. Clean shaven, short dark hair parted to the side and a tanned complexion. He was tall, definitely fit and there was something else about him that Dalia couldn't quite figure out that intrigued her. A leather Coach bag was always slung over his shoulder, giving a him a definite academic but yet bohemian look. By the second week she had begun looking forward to seeing him on the train, seeing what he was wearing, enjoying the rush she felt when she saw him. This wasn't the first time she had noticed someone on the train, but this stranger was different.
Then last weekend everything changed. It was a typical fall Saturday; her husband off golfing and her daughters, both in high school, sleeping late before doing their own thing. Three or four days a week Dalia took an aerobics class at a club a couple of towns over from where she lived. Afterwards she decided to get a tea at a little delicatessen/cafe, Meier's, around the corner from the gym before running some errands. She was waiting for her order, just looking around the cafΓ© when she noticed the stranger from the train sitting by himself at a table looking through a pile of papers next to the Coach bag. Dalia was surprised to see him and a bit startled by the effect he had on her. "Thirteen" called the clerk, jolting Dalia back to reality. She grabbed her tea and headed to the island adding milk and sugar before giving it a stir, placed the cover on it and glanced over at his table.
Dalia groaned silently to herself and let her forehead hit the steering again as she replayed scene in her head. Something had possessed her at that moment; maybe loneliness, or longing, a bit of lust or all three. There were no empty tables and he was sitting alone; so, Dalia made a snap judgement to sit down with him. She took a deep breath and as if in a trance she walked over to the counter and picked up a copy of the "Globe" lying there for the patrons, then walked over to his table.
"Excuse me there are no empty tables, would you mind if I joined you?" Dalia was surprised how controlled she sounded despite her racing heart. He looked up and smiled before sliding the pile of papers over and rising.
"Of course not have a seat." He offered generously.
Hiding her anxiety Dalia put down the tea and paper and sat as he returned to his task.
Dalia picked up the paper, pretending to read. "My God he is young and attractive." She thought to herself. Stealing an unseen glance she watched him for a moment. "He must be a teacher; no teacher I ever had looked like him." She thought wistfully. After a moment something obscure caught her attention, a scent she hadn't smelled years; Chanel Egoiste. Her heart skipped a beat as the odor penetrated her memory reminding her of a seduction long ago.
She took a sip of her tea and tried to steady herself as she glanced at him again. Afraid that this was her only chance to speak with him, she asked the only question she could think of.
"Are you a teacher?"
It took moment for him to look up, during that incredibly long period of time Dalia second guessed herself convinced she had irritated him.
"Kind of....I'm an Assistant Professor at Galbraith College in the Fens." He answered with a warm smile.
"Really? What do you teach?" She replied hoping that her voice did not betray the giddiness filling her.
"Mathematics.......I'm Stephen by the way." He announced extending his hand.
Dalia took his hand and gently gripped it, his touch causing her to almost lose her breath for just a second before she replied; "I'm Dalia." He continued to lightly grasp her hand while looking into her eyes then after a couple of seconds he released his grip.
"I've seen you before, the commuter train?"