This time Kenneth prepared, or at least he tried. Opening one's heart wasn't an easy matter, and giving the keys demanded truckloads of trust. The man no longer questioned himself about whether Monday was the one. Kenneth shredded his checklist. He made her eligible and the only candidate of his heart.
Commitment.
At the time, he didn't know he had already started when he booked his first flight to Paris and asked Monday to meet him at the Sacré Coeur. Then, Kenneth tried to distill what Monday desired and how she felt about him as he sat across from her. Kenneth showed consistency; it didn't need much effort. The active listener took note of everything the woman said, even the most insignificant details, because, in reality, for Kenneth, nothing in a relationship one desired was meaningless.
They weren't exactly at the beginning, but it seemed they did a mockup rehearsal, and now they tried to do better.
"How's Mathilda?" Monday asked.
"She's doing great. I think the team appreciates having her insight. Each culture works; differently. The exchange is beneficial. Mathilda loves facts and hates boastful talks. I don't have an ace or hot shot personality among team members or others."
"Except yourself," Monday teased.
"Hahaha, you truly see me as some megalomanic. You're mistaken; I was a socially awkward teen, andㅡwhy are you smiling like that?"
"Sounds like revenge of a blonde who happens to be a redhead."
"Wait till we get back to my suite," Kenneth said as he cut a piece of his faux filet.
"Oh, I'm so scared."
Kenneth winked, "yes, you should be."
Again Kenneth noted how much he appreciated how Monday talked to him. He still had insufferable interactions with some people. Discussions found themselves biased by his interlocutors' apprehension. Every subject became a dissertation for some. Rare were the people who teased him. There was only one person who did.
"She would really like you," Kenneth said after a few bites.
"Who?"
"Greta."
"Oh, your bestie, do you think so?"
Kenneth nodded, "she loves people without tact."
"What?" Monday laughed, "I have a lot of tact. You're the one who can't take a banter."
"Yes, I can."
"No, look at those ripples between your eyes," Monday said.
How did they get there? Monday still tried to find a romantic phenomenon to explain it.
"Aren't you surprised?"
Kenneth raised a brow, "of what?"
"We're here together. I mean,ㅡnever mind."
"I do mind; finish your thought."
Monday looked straight into his eyes, "It was supposed to be one night, right?"
"Who said that? I never did. Why do you assume it was my attention? Okay, I didn't know what would happen next, but I didn't intend on anything. I left you my number, remember? You were the one who didn't deem to open my book."
No, Kenneth never made promises, nor did he say it was only a once-in-a-lifetime offer. All were her assumptions and apprehensions about sleeping with a random guy.
Monday smiled; they continued their meal and returned to Kenneth's bedroom. He booked at the Maison Souquet once more. The hotel still held many mysteries, and the couple decided they would sleep in every room to discover all the decors. Which meant they had twenty nights minimum to spend there.
Each room was another vision of its designer. This time, the suite they were in had an all-blue decore, peacock, oxford, and cobalt; the couple had the impression of being in the deep sea while staring up at the blue sky.
"So, will you sleep here?" Kenneth asked as he watched her explore the room.
"I'll think about it," Monday replied as she let her hand glide on the furniture.
"I rented the spa."
"I don't have to a bathing suit."
"It's private. You don't need one," Kenneth answered triumphantly.
"Pervert."
"Trait accepted," Kenneth said as he threw himself on the bed.
Monday came to sit next to him and only to be pulled into a hug by Kenneth. He caressed her hair; Monday still had them pressed. "Are you going to keep your hair like this permanently?"
Monday turned her head to the side to see him, "why you don't like them this way?"
"No, I love them like this. It's just I like your curls as well."
Kenneth disliked curly hair, yet he felt a certain nostalgia concerning hers. He remembered when he approached her at the bar. The man had spotted her from afar thanks to the springy coils only she had.
"Oh, don't worry, they'll be back in no time. I quickly get bored; three weeks is a lot already," Monday said as she did a complete turn to face him. They were eye to eye.
"What's wrong?" Monday asked.
"Nothing, it's just I have so much to say, and I don't know in which order I should say things."
The woman smiled, "stop overthinking; speak. I'll try to make sense out of your noodle soup of thoughts."
She has beautiful teeth, Kenneth thought before replying," no, I don't want any misinterpretations."
Monday tapped a knuckle on his chest, "tell me, Kenneth, what's troubling you?"
"Say what's eating you. You might discover you're on the same wavelength."
The couple could eat out as much as they wanted, go on dates, and sleep in as many suites as desired. No matter what they did, their story could not advance as long as they were incapable of expressing themselves on subjects that touched them.
"As I said earlier, I wasn't much of a spokesman when I was younger. I lived with my mother. She was a ballet dancer. People said she ruined her career by having me, but they didn't know she could no longer do the figures due to a car accident."
"Gosh."
"It's not the kind of accident you imagine. She happened to cross the road when an old lady, too old to drive, almost ran her over though she was on the pedestrian walk."
"Oh wow," Monday exclaimed.
"It wasn't fatal, but the impact on her leg halted my mother's career. My father was an artistic director who left her for another dancer."
"She must have been devastated."
"It's a euphemism; the divorce destroyed her."
Kenneth paused as the movie of his childhood began to play, "she began to drink and smoke. My mother could smoke two packets a day, sometimes more. The living room curtains burnt once; she could have died if the neighbors didn't intervene."
Kenneth didn't need to carry on Monday and the whole picture.
"I shocked you that day, didn't I?"
Kenneth took a deep breath, he tried to speak, but the words clogged his throat. He coughed before saying, "the smell, ㅡit disgusts me. ㅡI can't stand it. Sorry, I sound like an old geezer, but if there's something I won't accept is smoking or alcoholism. My mother died from cancer; remission became impossible with all the nicotine in her lungs. ㅡSo Monday, no matter the sentiments I have for you, trust me when I say you can't imagine where they stand today. I know I'd leave you to save myself. I refuse to put my sanity through such a trial again or to see someone poison themselves daily."
The man warned, and Monday gulped the absent saliva in her throat that dried in an instant, "ㅡI, Kenneth, I stopped. I don't smoke anymore. I eat a lot of sugar, though. I hope you don't mind having a toothless woman," she sketched a weak smile and hoped it came off as she intended.
It was one of those one-pence jokes that made Kenneth laugh within as he imagined Monday with caries darkening her perfect teeth. He was thankful; Mondays' ability to deflate the drama appeased him.
The woman had her answer and one of Kenneths' expectations. She had stopped smoking, and she only consumed alcohol at fairs or social gatherings. Monday never questioned her habit or thought of the probability of having an illness.
There she saw how much it could hurt someone. If the images on the cigarette packets never bothered Monday, Kenneths' words finally made their way to her heart and shook her.
"I'm sorry," Monday turned away from Kenneth and sat up. She felt dumb.
Kenneth followed, "I'm the one who's sorry. You didn't know; the least I could have done was explain, and back then, not only was I tetanized by what I saw, but I was way of over my head with feelings. It's when I realized how much I cared for you. Part of me didn't want to deal with that either. I mean, I vowed to live my life alone, and there I was, fearing an existence without you. I wasn't ready for it."
Monday turned to face him, "neither was I. I'm terrible at relationships. I can write about love and express profound emotions through my craft, but I suck big time. Right now, I'm not confident."
Kenneth fell back on the bed and stared at the ceiling, "well, it's reassuring to know I'm not alone on this."
Monday laid back down and faced him, "I'd love to try the spa."
It was her implicit answer to the question of whether she would spend the night with him or not.
Kenneth looked at his watch, "we can go in an hour."
An hour had passed since they ate. Their digestive system needed another before hitting the pool.
"Oh wow, I thought it was just a hot tub," Monday said when they entered the space, "this hotel is so over the top."
Like their bedroom, the spa's walls and ceiling were midnight blue.
One could only look up at the solar system painted in gold on the ceiling.
Kenneth touched the water. It was warm; he tremovedhis robe and slipped entirely into the pool. He slicked his hair which was now a dark brown and bone straight back.
"Aren't you coming in?" he asked.
"Turn around."
Kenneth raised a brow, "are you serious?"
Monday nodded, "I'm no Venus. So turn around."
The man sighed and did as asked. He waited to hear the whooshing sound of the water before saying, "you're my Venus, though."
Kenneth turned around to face her. He wondered how she always managed to keep her lipstick. Of course, the thought made him kiss her. Monday wrapped her arms around his neck while he wrapped his around her back, and they sunk under the water.