Dancing with Time

Misunderstandings

Dedicated to: skjamyworld

"When we are feeling low, we don't even feel like taking a bath. Although that is when we need a bath the most. When misunderstanding is at its peak in a relationship, we don't feel like crying. However, that is when crying can help the most. We cry only when things have gone irreversibly wrong." ― Shunya

A week and a day had passed since Troy's Wednesday departure for the navy base. The air in the house, once thick with tension, had breathed a sigh of relief. Keith was back to his old self. The one who filled their home with laughter, his warmth radiating like sunshine. He teased her gently, the way that used to make her cheeks burn and her heart skip a beat. Every passing day, it seemed, she fell in love with him a little more. Juliet's decision to give their marriage another try had bloomed in her heart, but shyness choked the words whenever they rose to her throat.

Sunlight streamed through the windows of the Jacobsen Hotel restaurant, painting the tablecloth with a warm glow. Juliet, nestled in a plush armchair, awaited her lunch. She'd ordered her usual, a chicken salad, its colorful tapestry of greens and yellows a feast for the eyes. A file lay open beside her, Ray's meticulous notes outlining the renovations to the honeymoon suite. Suddenly, a voice, sharp as a knife cutting through silk, sliced through her concentration. "Hey!" Lucas greeted, pulling out a chair opposite her.

Juliet adopted a glacial demeanor, the smile she offered him as thin as paper. The clink of plates and murmur of conversation formed a white noise backdrop as the waiter arrived with her lunch and a vibrantly colored strawberry-banana smoothie. Juliet murmured her thanks, dismissing the waiter with a wave of her hand. The file snapped shut, banished to the corner of the table.

"You know," Lucas began, spearing a piece of his food, "your hair looks great up. It's very professional." Juliet chewed slowly, her emerald eyes flashing him a single, icy glance. "Keith likes it down," she countered, her voice laced with steel. "Besides, my appearance is none of your concern." She sipped her smoothie, the coolness a welcome contrast to the simmering annoyance within her.

The arrival of Lucas's meal, a steaming plate of chicken with a side of emerald green wild rice soup, brought a lull in the conversation. Lucas broke the silence. "Want to try some of this soup? It's amazing." Juliet looked up, a flicker of memory crossing her features. Bittersweet memories of stolen moments, laughter shared over steaming food bowls, and whispered secrets in dimly lit cafes.

"No thanks," she replied, the words clipped. She just wanted him to vanish, to melt into the restaurant's background noise.

A jolt of electricity shot through her as Lucas's hand descended upon hers, his touch a searing brand on her skin. Every fiber of her being recoiled. She snatched her hand away, her green eyes blazing with revulsion. "Lucas," she enunciated each word carefully, her voice low and dangerous, "I've forgiven you. But there's no room for you in my heart. I feel indifference – no love, no hate, no lingering resentment. I just want to finish this project and be done with you. No more forced encounters, no more reliving the past."

Lucas's face crumpled, a mask of disappointment replacing the hopeful glint that had been there a moment before. "I see," he mumbled, the words barely audible. A sliver of hope flickered in his eyes. "Would you... at least consider having lunch with me sometimes while we're working together?"

Juliet stared at him, incredulous, as if he'd sprouted a second head. A humorless scoff escaped her lips. "I'd much rather have lunch with my husband," she declared, her voice firm. With a finality that brooked no argument, she pushed back her chair and stood. A few crisp bills lay on the table, payment for a meal left mostly untouched. Grabbing her file, she turned on her heel and walked away, leaving Lucas a statue in her wake. Once a neutral space, the Jacobsen Hotel restaurant was now firmly off-limits. Not if it meant enduring another unwelcome intrusion from her past.