Page 157 of Perfect Satisfaction

“You just came from London. I guess you didn’t take the Beatles tour.”

“Why?” His voice is impatient.

“Because then you might have heard how Yoko Ono said the opposite of love is fear, not hate. Yes, I’m afraid.”

His deep voice reaches through the partition, dropping out of character. “I’m not your father, Sula.”

I start to withdraw my fingers. “Don’t.”

His fingers clasp mine. “I’m not. I swear it to you.”

My breathing is ragged. “I...”I’m afraid I will say the wrong thing, and it will all be over.

“There are things I haven’t shared, Sula. But I will.” Arek’s voice comes through firm. Determined.

I absorb the shock of that before asking, “Is there a reason you haven’t before?”

“I guess that’s subjective. To me, it’s foolish at this point.”

“I see.”

“No. You don’t. You have to trust me.”

Our fingers tangle and he whispers, “I’m yours, Sula. Only yours.”

I’m about to respond when the plane hits another pocket of turbulence. This time, our hands grab for one another. Determinedly, I loosen my grip on his. I whimper, not out of fear from the flight, but by the pull I feel to never let him go.

“Sula, would you ever hold a stranger’s hand?”

“Yes. Absolutely. If the plane were crashing, I’d also likely be in their lap.”

“Father, Son, Holy Spirit, she is kidding.”

I giggle. I can’t prevent it. Then sadness sets in as memories return. “You could always do that.”

“What’s that?”

“Make me laugh. Make me smile. Few people could.”

“Until something happened. Until I couldn’t.” He follows my train of thought.

He could always do that too. “Yes.”

The weight of the past is like this partition. We can sort of see each other on the other side. If only we could pretend it wasn’t in the way, there’d be nothing standing in our way.

But there is.

I draw my hand back. “I’m going to try to get some sleep.”

“Sula?”

“Yes?”

“Sleep well, little bear.”

I bite down on my hand to prevent him from hearing the sob that escapes me. Hot tears scald my cheeks at the familiar nickname.

“I wrote down the meaning of your name.” Arek draws circles on my back as I lay on his chest.