A Neverending Affair (16 page)

She looked at his hands. How she had adored those hands. There were many things
about Olaf that were appealing, but his hands were the jewel in the crown. It wasn’t the look of them. They were just ordinary looking hands, the skin smoother than one could expect of a male almost fifty, nails not particularly well groomed, but clean. No, the real thing with those hands was the touch and feel of them. They communicated in a way Ronia had never experienced. They gave, but they also took. She could see the joy in his face when they felt her nipples, trailed her lips or twirled her hair. It was not only that he was giving her pleasure. He himself enjoyed it just as much.

She didn’t think her own hands
were in any way as sensitive as Olaf’s. He said more with his hands than his words could ever express, and even for sex, his hands were certainly superior to his penis, even if she had liked it being in the place where it belonged. It was, after all, just a lump of meat compared to the fingers, she thought, but shrunk from her own vision of a steak hanging between his legs

“What were you thinking?” Olaf asked
.

“I shouldn’t tell
you. It’s embarrassing.” Ronia blushed.

“Try me
.”

“Well, I thought about your hands
…”

“
And…”

“Yes, the touch of them, the feel you have in your fing
ers. Have you ever realized that you have unique hands?”

“I remember you saying something about my hands be
fore, that you loved when I touched you, things like that. I liked that you told me so, because also for me the hands were, they are, important. Liv mainly bossed them around to ‘do this and do that, touch me here and touch me there’ and it made me feel like they were just dead tools. Monika, on the other hand, also says that my hands are special.”

“Exactly
. That’s the point. For most people, the hands are just tools. Of course, that’s not fully true, but they tend to disregard the sensations from the fingertips. People are so obsessed with sight and hearing. Smell is about sweat and perfumes, taste is for food and wine, but doesn’t play much role for the rest. And touch is just neglected—on both sides. You know some of these artificial flowers are so good, and there are only two things that make it possible to determine whether they are plastic or real. The smell and their feel. I guess the taste would also do it, if you dared to chew them.”

“Personally
, I believe that if we were trained, we would hear the difference as well. Life is action. Life is aspiration, transpiration, perspiration,” Olaf interjected.

“True, but back to the feel. If
you touch an artificial flower, you always know that it is dead.  And your hands seemed to have their own life, and they also gave me life. That particular part of my body that you touched suddenly became the center of emotion. Your touch on almost every part of my body sent me shivering from sensation, mostly from desire, but now and then also other feelings, such as comfort and consolation.”

“Thanks for those nice words about them
. I have to take better care of them in the future.”

“I wished I knew ho
w to make a painting that touched people in the same way your hands touched me.”

“Oh, you do, you do
,” Olaf said. “I guess that thing with the hand is communication. It was not only me touching you; it was your skin touching my fingertips. I think I take in a lot through my fingertips as well....Like you do with scent. I never met anyone as sensitive to smells as you are, or were at least.”

“Yeah, smell and taste are strong for me. If I close my eyes
, I can feel the smell of your armpits, the wax taste of your ear, the overcooked cabbage smell of your breath in the morning, the smell of the feet. The taste of…” She stopped, looked him in the eyes.

“
We aren’t going that way. This was a mistake. Olaf, I wish you a nice life, a good life and happiness with your wife and daughter. It was nice seeing you, but I’m not sure it’s a good idea that we ever meet again.”

“Ronia,
please don’t do this to me again. I don’t mean we should start up a new affair. I just want to know you again.”

“We never managed that friendship thing very well
, have we?”

“True
, we haven’t, but it’s now been almost fifteen years since we broke up. Things are different now. And honestly, you never gave friendship a chance. You never responded to any of my attempts to renew contacts or my clumsy ways of saying I’m sorry.”

“You never said you were sorry!”

“Well, I didn’t
say
it, but I certainly let you know through the books and music I sent you, didn’t I?”

“Didn’t I?”
he repeated.

“I guess you did
.”

The week before they were to meet again in Geneva, Olaf decide
d to leave Liv and told her so, but he didn’t tell Ronia in advance. They were in close contact before meeting. Ronia arrived first in Geneva. Olaf came to the hotel and sought out her room. She opened the door. They hugged and kissed, and Olaf almost began to cry.

Ronia sense
d it. “What is it, honey?”

“Just hold me…tight
.”

They
embraced harder. Within a few moments the embrace was charged with lust and desire. They ended up against the wall and on the floor, a swift greedy affair. Afterward, they dressed and went to eat.

At the end of the meal, Olaf
told her. “I’ve decided to leave Liv. I told her about us. She was very angry and sad. But she didn’t want to give up and leave it at that. She said we should try. I agreed to see a therapist. Perhaps it will change something, but I don’t think so. We’ve been there before, so to speak. This is more for show, to show my good intentions and my willingness to work for the relationship.” 

“Was it really smart to tell her about us?”

“I don’t know. I felt I wanted to be honest.”

“Is such honesty for
her benefit or was it for you to feel good yourself?”

“I never thought about it like that. But what do you suggest, that I lie?”

“Not outright lying, but keeping quiet is not lying unless you are confronted with a question,” Ronia said. “But frankly speaking, I don’t know. I mean, I’m not a specialist in personal relationships, and my track record is not particularly impressive. I just speak from my own feelings. So what will happen now?”

“As I said
, we will seek a therapist, and then we will see what comes out of that.”

“I hope you
’re aware that that can take months, if not years. Once these guys have you by your balls, they don’t want to let go. That’s what keeps them in business,” Ronia said. “Those shrinks mainly help themselves getting rich, while they make normal people so confused that they don’t believe they can solve their own problems. People even go to shrinks because they’re afraid that they aren’t treating their dogs or cats or even goldfish in the right way. It’s like a drug. I have acquaintances that have been seeing shrinks for years for some nondescript condition, and it hasn’t made them any better. Elise has been seeing a shrink for two years, although I think in her case it’s mostly that she has a crush on him, a very expensive way of courting in my view.”

“I heard your view on th
is before, Ronia. You know that I’m also a bit skeptical, but for Liv, these guys are experts, in the same way she’s an expert in cybernetics, and to question them is to question the whole system of learning and education, the system of science and the experts that such system produce; it is to question the core of her existence, so to speak.”

“Yes
, it is. I guess that’s why I resent it. The system of science and most experts are for me just frauds. Almost no important event was predicted by these scientists and almost no important event was as a result of experts and science,” Ronia said. Olaf never ceased to be surprised how a person so committed to logic and rationality could have such a strong bias against formal schooling, and such disrespect for experts of all sorts.

“Anyway
, where does this leave us?” she continued.

“I
’m making myself ready for you,”

“Is that so?” she said thoughtfully
. “It could as well be the opposite.”

“I don’t understand
.”

She didn’t respond.

They went back to the hotel.

“Can I
stay in your room?” he asked. They still booked separate rooms, even if they always ended up staying in one room together. 

“Olaf, I need to be alone
with my thoughts,” she said.

“I don’t understand
. What’s the matter?” he asked. “I’ve taken major steps to make myself ready for you, for us, and it seems to me that you’re displeased with it. I thought you would be happy. I always thought that’s what you wanted.”

“I did
. I mean, I do,” she said. “I didn’t say it was wrong. It’s just a bit overwhelming; give me some time to digest all this. You’ve had time to digest it. I didn’t want to think about this possibility, as I thought it would never happen. I didn’t want to be disappointed, to be hurt. Let’s meet for breakfast, around eight. Is that fine?”

“Make it
seven-thirty.”

“Ok
.”

Ronia read a piece in a novel she brought with her,
A Ship Made of Paper,
a discomforting love story ending in disaster.
Like they mostly do,
she thought. Trying to sleep, she thought about their relationship. On the one hand, she was happy that Olaf was leaving Liv, even though she still feared it might not happen in the end or that the process would be very protracted. On the other hand, she wanted him to leave because he didn’t love Liv. She didn’t want herself to be the reason, or excuse, for him leaving Liv. If that were the case, she would not trust him as much as if he first broke up with Liv and then came to her, to Ronia.

Also, i
f he ever regretted leaving, it would not be projected upon Ronia. It would be totally of his own making. Of course, Ronia was already there. She had been a trigger to all this. But she convinced herself that she could be a trigger, but that she wouldn’t be the reason or an excuse. If Olaf wasn’t happy with Liv, then he should leave her regardless of if there was a Ronia or not. And the only way to be sure of that was breaking up with Olaf.

So be it,
she thought and slowly phased out into sleep. But her sleep was worried and frequently interrupted. When she woke at five, she realized that there was no point in trying to fall back in sleep, so she went for a brisk walk. She stopped by a house with some beautifully flowering wisteria and made some sketch of it and many more mental notes as it was a motif she could use in her work. She felt sad but determined to move ahead.

They met for breakfast but spoke only about
work and superficial things. During the day, they had meetings. At the afternoon break, Selma pulled Ronia aside and asked her if there was something wrong between her and Olaf.

“No, why?” she
said.

“I just felt there was something. Before I always thought you were so close
. You were always sitting next to each other, your body language mimicking each other. You mostly agreed and even used the same expressions. Frankly speaking, I suspected you had an affair,” she said with a nervous laugh, “but now you seem to be cool towards each other. Not that it’s any of my business…”

“Ther
e’s nothing like that between us, and there’s nothing wrong between us.” Ronia laughed.

After the meeting, they decid
ed to walk back to the hotel. They stopped in a café and ordered some espresso. They sat next to each other, silent. Olaf felt her hand on his thigh. He patted it lightly. After a while, it wandered towards his groin. He responded with the same touch. Soon they were both excited and looked around.

“Come join me in the bathroom
,” Ronia whispered.

“OK, you go first
,” he agreed.

They met in the re
stroom. It was small and not very clean or nice. She unbuttoned her shirt and pulled down her pants, stepping out of one of the legs and supporting herself on the sink. He tried to control his coming, but in the end there was not much he could do about it.

“Sorry
,” he whispered.

“Don’t worry
. What the heck can you expect from making love in a toilet anyway?” she said matter-of-factly while squatting over the toilet to let out his sperm.

“Are they called Vikinglings?” she asked
.

“Who?”

“A small Viking. I see your sperm as small potential Vikings, so the question is if you can call them Vikinglings?”

Olaf smiled.

Out on the street again, she said
, “Olaf, I want to break up.”

“What do you mean? Now that I
’m finally making myself ready for you? We love each other. We said it again and again. Didn’t it mean anything to you?”

“Yes, but I want you to do it properly now, to focus
on that process and be sure you make the right choice. It will be easier for you without having me to bother about. In addition, it will be good for me to reflect on if I’m serious enough about us.”

“Please don’t do this to me
,” he said. “I need you to go through this process.”

“No, you need yourself for the process. Once you are done with it
, contact me again and we’ll see—but I don’t promise.”

“Do
you have someone else?”

“Now you
’re being silly. This is first about you and Liv and then about you and me.”

“Do you?”
he demanded.

“No, there is no fourth person, at least not on my side, but if you ask once more
, I will say yes just to make you shut up. And I will tell you all the details of how we make love, how his touch makes me twinkle with delight, how he can make love three times every night and then again once or twice the morning after. I will tell you how much I love him and that he is rich and sends me roses, 33 new roses every week.” 

“Ronia, I still don’t see the point in this. I
’m in the process of breaking up my marriage—to be with you—and then you think we should break up as well,” Olaf said. “It simply doesn’t make sense to me.”

“I told you
why already.”

“So
what does this mean? No contact at all?”

“I envision that we can have a bit
of contact but avoid the love-speak and that we don’t meet until you have broken up properly. I mean, that you have separated properly. Not just that she has moved out, but that you’ve sorted your affairs and all. Once that is all clear, I think I’ll be there for you again. But I make no promise. Don’t count on it. I’m not just hanging around waiting. You should separate from Liv because you aren’t happy in that relationship; go ahead, do that. I will admire and respect you for it. If you leave her for me, I’ll feel guilty. I’ll believe that you came to me because you’re afraid of being alone. There will be all sorts of stupid thoughts. And when you feel remorse or even regret, that you left her, you will blame me. Perhaps not openly, but in your heart.”

“R
onia, I hate this. I guess there isn’t much I can do, once you have made up your mind. You are one of the most stubborn people I know. But please let us make love once more. I hate to have that toilet business as the final memory of our love making. Let us plan for a serious session that we can both remember with pleasure.”

She gazed long into his eyes before saying
, “Yes, I’d love that.”  

“Let me organize a few things. Co
me to my room at seven.”

Olaf went shopping to get strawberries, chocolate sauce, bread, grapes, olives, ham, Gruyere and Appenzeller cheese and a bottle of good wine. Finally bath foam, massage oil and candles. He pulled the curtains, lit some of the candles, and called her to come.

“
Bienvenue, mademoiselle.
You are expected and craved for,” he let her with a bow. He took her by the arm. “The program is as follows. First, we have a light meal, followed by a bath. After the bath, I will rub your back and smear you with aromatic oils. This will be followed by a historic love-making session that will make the planet tremble. That session also includes some strawberries and chocolate sauce, to be applied as we wish. Will that suffice, M’selle?”

“I guess I
would have preferred vanilla sauce, M’sieur,” Ronia said with a smile. “Joke aside: it sounds wonderful, Olaf. I feel sorry for Liv losing such a considerate husband.”

“Sssshhh, tonight we speak no work, no Liv, no fu
ture. We just enjoy us, here and now.”

They a
te the bread and accompanying food, drank two glasses of wine each, small-talking about everything and nothing. Olaf cleared the table and then drew a bath, adding foam. They both sank into the water with a sigh. Olaf took some rose petals and dropped them into the water, and threw some at Ronia. They discussed how it had been when they first met, what they had thought about each other and other fond joint memories. 

Up from the bath, they dried each other with the towels. Olaf asked her to lie down and
smeared her with rose and calendula oil and started to rub her legs, slowly moving upwards. When he reached her back, he straddled her. Ronia felt him pressing in the split of her buttocks, but she failed to get excited. Normally a treatment like this would bring her to the brink of hysteric desire. Instead, she just felt more and more relaxed and finally she dosed off.

She woke up much later
. The clock showed that it was past midnight. Olaf had tucked her into the sheets and put her to bed. There was a small note on the bedstand. “Gone out for a while, love, Olaf.” Ronia suddenly was clear awake.
What did I do?
she thought.
He must be awfully disappointed now. He went to great lengths to make this a wonderful evening, and this is how I thank him.
She wished that she had a mobile phone so that she could call him. But then she realized that it was enough that he had one. She looked around and couldn’t see it, so she assumed that he had brought it with him. She called from the hotel phone, but in the end, it was his answering machine speaking.