You Don't Know Me But We Are Lovers

"What do you mean?" Amber asked as their bodies continued to writhe hungrily together.

"I mean... I know you won't. Just... just listen and don't say anything. You don't have to say anything."

"What is it?"

"I love you so much," she said, her eyes threatening to produce tears. "I really do... I love you with all my heart. Hap-- happy Valentine's Day..."

Amber felt her body swell with emotion. She wondered what possessed Gianna to use that precise word so quickly, on what was effectively a first date. They'd only just met!

And yet it put her on cloud nine. Amber found herself wanting to hear Gianna say it over and over again, as strange and unexpected as the remark was. Before she could even open her mouth for a reply, Gianna rose up and pressed her lips to Amber's, holding her tightly as their bodies continued to grind rhythmically together, hungrily seeking each others pleasure, driven to ecstasy by the wet, slippery friction of their pussies and the lingering scent of their combined femininity that hung in the air.

Gianna suddenly weakened, exhaling a warm breath across Amber's neck. "Amber..." she moaned softly before whipping her hips faster and faster. Amber could feel the sensations building in Gianna's body, as they were in her own. A storm rose up through her body in an instant. Clutching Gianna for support and security, she braced herself for the soaring release of all that had built between them since that moment they locked eyes at the restaurant.

With a gasp, Amber closed her eyes and cried out. Her body began to quake. She felt herself squirting, anointing Gianna's with the consummation of their voracious efforts. Their mutual orgasms crashed into each other in an explosion of heat and energy, one feeding the other with the blissful relief of an intense desire, the wide expanse of indulgence robbing them of any sense of control, obliterating all sense of identity, briefly enacting their beautiful devastation.

A peaceful calm followed. The night was suddenly muted. All frustrations, sadness, and fear had fled from Amber's body as she lay there beside her loving partner, their fingers still gently engaged in quiet play.

All space between them closed as they entered the sanctum of each other's embrace. Together they softly submitted to the drunken, hazy fog of sex and sleep.

Though it was more of a half-sleep, laced with wild dreams and infused with the scent of night-blooming flowers washing into the room, their bodies periodically soothed by the slow, regular crash of waves like a distant, natural lullaby.

***

The following morning was an unwelcome one.

Not only did Amber have to face the fact that it was time to fly home and leave Gianna behind, but the incoming storm had also increased in speed and was headed straight for Jamaica. The weather forecast had literally become dire overnight. Amber found that her original flight had been grounded and she was forced to transfer to the only other airline willing to take off for her to return to work as scheduled. It was a rather sketchy one and far from reliable.

Part of Amber just wanted to dismiss all sense of responsibility-- to just stay there with Gianna in their island paradise. Gianna also seemed sadly resigned to the completion of their time together. It hadn't been long but Amber couldn't help but feel that it was something that needed to continue. Somewhere. Somehow.

Despite a somber mood, they managed to get Amber packed and hung out by the pool to wait for a ride to the airport. Amber stared through the glassy surface of the water, down to the lane lines on the tiled floor that wavered erratically as if unsure of their path and direction. They talked about the things that they had done together and how much they'd enjoyed them but in the back of Amber's mind, a strange panic began to form. Something didn't seem right. She couldn't accept the mere possibility of losing touch with Gianna and never seeing her again.

"Do you remember what you said to me at the beach?" Amber asked, suddenly driven to desperation.

"Yeah..." Gianna said, hesitantly.

"You wanted me to do something crazy. To trust you," Amber continued. Gianna nodded. "Well I did that-- and it was awesome. I don't regret a single thing we did."

"Me neither," said Gianna with a small smile breaking through the shadow of her quiet melancholy.

"Well... what about you? If I asked you to do something crazy, would you trust me?" Amber gazed at Gianna with a hopeful look. Gianna was already sighing as if she knew what was coming. It made Amber confused but she still didn't question what she knew about Gianna's feelings. "Come back to New York with me. Just for a little while. You could stay at my apartment. It's not big... but--"

"Amber..." Gianna began to mumble.

Amber interjected, "I'm sure we could work something out. I'm just not ready to leave. Leave you, I mean."

"I know... me neither. It's just... maybe we should wait until..." Gianna continued to say, forcing the words out of her mouth as if they were distasteful.

Amber didn't let her speak. "I came here trying to escape Valentine's Day. Who would have thought I'd run into you, here, when I was least prepared? But now that I've had a taste of what other people have, I can't blame them for it! It is what it is. One year it's depressing and lonely and then the next it's suddenly the best day of my life. I'm not in control of that. All I can do is recognize when things go my way and embrace it, be present in that moment, cherish it right until the very last minute."

Gianna perked up and stared attentively at Amber's face as she continued to vent her emotions.

"You know... I hate the fact that I was running away from something. What's the point in running away from anything? Even when I tried to do that, it turned out I was actually running toward something. I just didn't know it. Honestly, what else is there to do but to keep searching until you find what you're after? And if you're lucky enough to find it, wherever you are and however random the coincidence, what sense does it make to ever let it go? -- Honestly? I'd take this trip a thousand times to see you again if I had to."

Gianna was quieted. At first, she seemed withdrawn and reflective. However, the solemn look on her face twisted into a strange expression as she considered the heartfelt expression of desperate love that she felt no less for Amber than Amber did for her.

Finally, Gianna broke her silence. "You know what? You're right. I'll go. I'll be there with you."

"Really?" Amber said, startled.

"No running away," Gianna said, holding out her pinkie. Amber offered hers until both were locked in an embrace.

Amber felt something deep in her gut; an uneasy feeling hiding behind a sudden sense of elation. Then she blocked out everything and set to work to ensure that Gianna would get a spot on that flight, no matter what it took.

***

Flight JA1627 rumbled along through the sky making its way over the ocean with the intent of leaving behind bleak prospects for an island that had just been the pure manifestation of paradise.

Amber was sleepy and eventually began to sweetly doze upon Gianna's shoulder, sandwiched between her lover and the window. She dreamt of their time in Jamaica together. How perfect it was. Even the sudden turbulence of the flight seemed distant and insignificant, not powerful enough to penetrate through the rosy glow of her recent memories, vaguely jumbled, as they played out in her head.

The magical tour of a lush garden utopia, their secret rendezvous on the beach and the impromptu passions they shared on the raft. The drive through the mountains, the sweet taste of unfamiliar fruits and all the other delicious food. Their perfect night spent together in each other's arms. All of it swirled through Amber's mind like a mist infused with a certain transience and life.

Eventually, however, it was the hollering that woke Amber, the distinct pitch of a voice infected with fear. A thick forest of voices, wild and untamed, momentarily broken by an unintelligible announcement from the pilot.

Amber blinked and began to sit up. "What's going on?" she mumbled as a harsh red light began to creep through her eyelids.

"Shh," said Gianna, rubbing her back softly. "I hoped you'd stay asleep..."

"Why is everyone yelling?"

A red warning light burned above her head, making an infernally repetitive tone.

"Listen-- Amber. Can we trust each other, one more time? Will you do something if I ask you?" Gianna said, hurriedly.

"What?" Amber said, still foggy and unfocused. Everything seemed topsy-turvy through the brief bouts of half-lucidity.

"Try to go back to sleep. I'm right here. I promise. I'll sleep with you. Okay?"

"O-kay..." Amber said, returning her head to Gianna's shoulder as she covered Amber's ears and relaxed her with a kiss on the forehead.

Amber felt soothed by the warmth of Gianna's body, protection against the violent jostling of the plane and the mounting vibrations ascending through the seat.

Seconds later, she slipped back into her Caribbean dreams, blissfully unaware of the tragic descent of the plane.

Gianna's kiss held until it could hold no longer.

***

The shrill sound of Amber's alarm clock went off exactly as scheduled, hammering its way through the last vestiges of a disturbed dream like a siren going off. The dull thud of a headache pulsed and spread through her body; the tail end of a physical trauma anxious to be cured by the early light of dawn. It was not the way she wanted to wake up that morning but it was the morning she had been given.

Amber pulled herself out of bed as she became conscious of the day's agenda, scrambled to start the coffee, then threw off her clothes as she darted past her packed luggage and into the bathroom. Soon, she paused under the soothing warmth of the jets, alone with her thoughts. Alone with the torturous threat of another lonely Valentine's Day.

Meanwhile, miles away, Gianna awoke in her bungalow with a start. The warm Caribbean breeze floated in through her window, gently soothing away the pulse of a fading headache. She rolled out of bed, slowly recovering from the pain that soon flushed from her body. She stretched out her arms and began to consider the new day; how it might go, all the ways in which it might be similar or different from all the others...

She began her morning routine. It involved visiting friends and setting many things in motion. Ensuring that nothing would prevent Kymani, Adam, and Ziggy from recommending The Jerk Shack to Amber, for example, as well as asking Jean-Baptiste for a special favor on the beach later that afternoon.

One advantage Gianna began to understand about her predicament were the layers of trivial information she had picked up about the world around her; the precise time a vendor would go by with freshly cut mangoes, a violent disagreement in the street to avoid, the times her favorite spots would shift from quiet privacy to bustling activity. However, the growing predictability of the events taking place in her environment caused them to lose their magical spontaneity. She had to revive their enchantment by treating her situation as a gift. As if performing a magic trick, Gianna could suddenly produce guinep fruit out of thin air, knowing just when distant church bells would frighten parrots and prompt them to do all the dirty work for her.

Her worst regret was the one time she attempted to explain the whole situation to Amber, blurting it out on that very first day, when they'd barely gotten to know one another yet. Nothing had been worse than that. How does one convince a total stranger of something so inexplicable and horrible? How could she expect someone to react when she claimed, "you don't know me -- but we're already lovers." No, she felt resigned to suffering that hard truth in secret.

Amber had rebuffed her straight away. Gianna tried to salvage it but a relationship never developed. After that, Gianna took to making several attempts to changing the course of history. There was the time she whisked Amber up to a cottage in the Blue Mountains to remain long enough to escape fate but they never made it there. All she was left with was the memory of frantic bird calls and falling rocks by the roadside. There was the time she chartered a boat for them and headed straight for the Cayman Islands but they never made it there either. How fitting it was that the sea that she loved so much had claimed their love for all eternity.

Even letting go of Amber, allowing her to take that tragic flight alone, resulted in the same fate -- except they each had to suffer it a thousand miles apart.

After finishing the usual series of critical morning tasks, Gianna finished her routine the same way she always did: finding a quiet spot on the beach to gaze out across the wide blue sea and reflect.

She felt trapped, living those same few, perfect days over and over, knowing that in exchange for reliving the meeting of her soulmate she would never be able to make it last. Their fate was sealed; sealed that very first time when they got on that damned flight together. The one that never reached its destination.

Despite the many variations of changing the course of history she had tried, the result was always the same. Fate had a way of always catching up with them. It was predetermined and knew every recipe for disaster in the book. Gianna sat there on the beach softly chuckling at the stupid ways people thought about death when the worst thing about it was the anticipation itself. The dwelling upon one's own mortality.

Strangely, every time the moment came it was always unremarkable. Death was persistent but never anything special. How ironic that after all the time one spends brooding about the day it might arrive, it's often over in an instant, without any time to even process one's own demise.

With a heavy heart, she had long since begun following an accelerated script of that first time, when they first met and fell in love, always still pondering, even seeking a way out. However, as Gianna sat there in the warm sand enjoying the morning breeze and reflecting on the previous time, she felt strangely at peace for once. It was the direction their conversation had taken on that previous encounter together.

She couldn't stop thinking about what Amber had said about letting go and just accepting what was.

For the first time, Gianna finally sat there not thinking about the next fruitless attempt to escape but instead focusing on the simple beauty of what was about to transpire on that day. It was exactly as Amber had said: she wanted to be present in the moment.

Gianna stood up in a huff and brushed the sand from her legs; defiant, unconcerned, determined not to waste yet another stretch of time with the love of her life caught up in an aimless attempt to avoid the unavoidable.

It was freeing in a way. It was as if Amber had given her permission to stop trying to save them both and appreciate what they had been blessed with, however short.

***

As lunchtime neared, Gianna headed straight for The Jerk Shack, as she always did. She made her way to her favorite spot in the corner; the one with the faded vintage poster that proclaimed Jamaica as the "gem of the tropics." A beautiful young woman was depicted there, frozen in time, a time when visitors came from all over by steamship seeking the thrill of adventure. She settled in beneath that woman's curious smile, half-reclining in a rickety chair and tapping her fingers on a table repeatedly lacquered with years of spilled beer and rum.

Amber would arrive soon. She'd walk through that door, lost, hungry, satisfied to have found a quiet spot to relax and have a bite to eat. Gianna would wait in the shadows, quietly observing Amber. Then it would happen. They'd connect across the room, saying so much in that first moment of recognition, using only their eyes.

And that's exactly what happened. The bright streaks of light from the open doorway were briefly diverted by the presence of an approaching figure. Amber stepped into the room, as beautiful as ever, glanced about briefly to take in her surroundings, and then headed toward an empty table as Zidane rushed over to greet her.

Gianna usually spent those first few minutes preparing herself for the next two and a half days and all the wonderful moments it would bring. She always needed to condition herself, to forcibly push away the gnawing sadness that tried to invade her mind, reminding her that it would be all for nothing. Reminding her how it would end abruptly and start all over again like some cruel punishment.

She would always wonder why she was cursed with the memory of the last time, and the time before, and the time before that, while Amber always strolled into the room as if it were that very first day all over again; a blank slate, suffering no burden from the knowledge of their ill-fated love affair. A fate that Gianna would choose to leave Amber ignorant of, time and time again.

And yet... this time she felt no desire to conjure up a wall of artificial security and blissful ignorance around herself. For the first time, Gianna felt herself letting go and accepting that their fate simply was what it was. A tremendous pressure lifted from her shoulders and she wanted to laugh.

"What's the point in running away from anything?" Amber had said to her, the last time.

Amber had never expressed that before!

Who could know what subtle differences of that last iteration of their final day together ultimately led to Amber sharing those insights, but Gianna was thankful for them. They made her suddenly stronger than ever before. Gianna decided firmly to run toward something, whole-heartedly, not away. The fate that they had been given was theirs and there was simply nothing to do but to live in the moment and embrace it.

It was just like Amber said: what was the point of doing anything else?

Gianna felt a chill leave her body at that moment as if she had been cured of some disease. Zidane abruptly spoke up, "Dat storm changing course!" he said excitedly, before swiping a towel excitedly across the bar.

Gianna felt the words about to come out of her mouth. The same words she always said: "Yeah, I know it. Don't worry. It's a couple days out yet." However, she stopped herself, wondering if she just heard him correctly.

"Don't have tuh put up de boards again!" Zidane added, grinning in Gianna's direction. He whistled happily and finished wiping the countertop. She watched as he poured himself a shot of rum, shot it down his throat, put his hands in prayer formation, and thanked Jah.

Gianna sat there in a state of shock. What did it mean that the storm was no longer inching toward them, blackening the skies in the distance, mocking her with its slow advance? In all the times she had tried to change their fate, it had always meant nothing in the end. But she had not done this.

How could she have changed the course of a storm? What did it mean?

A shiver went down Gianna's spine. She looked over at Amber, who quickly looked away, then snuck another peek a few moments later. Gianna's heart quickened. She felt a feeling she hadn't felt in a long time. It was like a warm glow unspooling in the core of her body.

"No storm..." she thought, as the strange twist of fate crystalized in her mind.

That very storm, after all, was what led them to their fate in the first place. The storm that disrupted flights. The storm that caused Amber to move to a cheap, sketchy airline that ultimately took both their lives and trapped them in this endless cycle of love and loss.

Gianna's sense of hope was renewed. Did it mean the plane would never go down now? Could she fly off to New York with Amber and find their future still waiting for them on the other side? Or was it just another cruel twist designed to give her a false hope, only to end up on an ill-fated boat or in a ravine by the edge of a road?