One Evening of ‘That Perfect Couple’

Completely Boofy Blitzed
Nov 4 · 6 min read
Patrick Hickley — Complex Structures, 2012

He looked at her very expressively, with a twinge of anger, a shadow of rage, a hint of puzzlement and a little of query. That’s when she understood she was screwed. She suspected that the reason was her pinching him when he had begun to touch her belly slowly moving his hand down. She had nothing against this sort of things. On the contrary, she enjoyed it. They had been together for a long time. They were really close. The intimacy was perfect, sensual which was difficult to obtain for either of them, considering they were both reserved and intactile. But at that particular moment they were not alone. They were in a company of her best friend and his best friend and she didn’t like the excessive demonstration of their private life. She thought he was used to her preferring to be more platonic when they were not alone. But maybe, she thought, he wanted to get the most out of the last day they could be together before she would leave to Germany for two weeks for study.

Perhaps she did it too hard, she continued pondering, so it hurt. Contemplating for a while she admitted to herself that probably she was wrong to have done so.

She didn’t want to solve their problems in front of everyone so there were no inquiries for the present, but soon, when they went to the other room leaving the kitchen, she began asking him, in a preying voice, what was wrong.

He started angrily,

‘Are you okay? Are you out of your mind?’ She was already scared at that point and was looking at him with the eyes wide open and bewildered.

‘Wh… What?’ — she mumbled.

‘You’re laughing only at his jokes! Is this a joke? I just don’t get it. You are deliberately avoiding laughing at my jokes’.

‘I am n-not’.

‘I checked it a hundred times. You’re just ignoring them!’

‘I don’t!’

He violently took her arm and, clutching his teeth, continued,

‘Yes, you do’. Then he remembered himself and his love for her and let go of the arm.

‘Yes, you do’, now more calm.

‘No’, she shook her head in a panic, ‘No, you’re wrong. I was checking it too. I was laughing at your jokes, you didn’t notice it’.

‘I was following you, you didn’t even smile. I tell something witty — you have no emotions, but as soon as he says something stupid you’re all smiley and giggly. What the hell?! You like him?’

‘No! It’s stupid! How can you say that?! I am maybe laughing because it’s stupid to say something like that. I am laughing at how stupid this is. You know that sometimes dumb stuff makes me laugh’.

‘Not like that and not so much. And you constantly emphasized how you’re both alike. How you also don’t like cats and how you also do this and that and so on. And that last joke? What was it?’ She was continually shaking her head at everything he said, but it didn’t stop him and only made him angrier. ‘The one with “I’m not hungry” or something. I laughed too because I didn’t want to be a castaway, but that’s bullshit. It wasn’t even remotely funny’.

‘I had just seen this video. That’s from the show you don’t like. You know I had watched it and liked it, even though you didn’t’.

‘That’s one case. You were laughing with him the whole evening and were missing my jokes’.

‘I did laugh at your jokes’.

They had already sat down on the sofa. She was leaning to him, holding his hands, convincing, ‘I know I did. I was following that too. I was thinking about it’. He shook his head. ‘Maybe I did it too late. Your jokes are too ingenious, I couldn’t get them at once, but by the time I got it, it’d been another joke already’.

‘Not likely’.

‘Baby, please, don’t be mad. I love you. It’s all stupid. It’s our last day. Let’s be warm to each other, please’.

He yielded to her persuasions and made a gesture to hug her but, suddenly, as if remembering something outrageous, he fiercely rushed up, ‘And you pinched me! When I touched you right in front of him. Who does that?! Do you know that he touches whatever he likes when he’s with his girls and not one of them complains. And I can’t even touch your belly?!’

‘I’m so-o-rry! It’s not connected anyhow. You know, I do that when I can’t stand the publicity’.

‘Not like that! What the hell?! And you did it hard. It really hurt. Don’t you want me to touch you in front of him?!’

‘No! Sweety, please. It’s mad. It’s ridiculous. I admit, I was wrong. But I don’t like him. I love you. Don’t be mad, please’.

She leaned to hug him affectingly like she always did to calm him down. He was susceptible to tenderness and caress. Perhaps, it had begun in his childhood. His mother loved him very much and showed her affection through kisses and hugs and sugary words. He was used to this kind of attitude and considered it to be indispensable. For her, on the other hand, it was unfamiliar and strange. As soon as her mother had evinced any mothering and fondling, she’d been trying to find what the catch or where the rub was. ‘Maybe she wants something from me? Maybe she wants me to wash the dishes?’ — was what she used to think during that moments. But since they had started dating she got used to this behavior eventually. She tried to resist it though. Being all gooey seemed somehow repulsive but she had also caught up. She saw that it could really affect his attitude and repair their relationship after the fights. So now she wanted to do the same as it had usually been successful. But this time, as soon as she bent to him, he harshly pushed her back with his elbow hitting her neck. The tears sprang from her eyes, she clasped them so tightly that it looked immensely bitter. He was immediately sorry for doing it and wanted to hug her, but she moved away.

Something began to rustle in the kitchen and she could guess that their friends were about to leave it, which made her quickly settle her nerves and fix herself. She didn’t want anyone to think they had problems. She never told her friends if there was something wrong or bothering about him. She didn’t want to make dirty linen in public. A certain statement had once floated before her eyes. She still can’t remember where she read it but it said, “Never complain to anyone about your man. You’ll forgive him the next day, but for your friends he’ll always be the jerk who doesn’t deserve any respect.” This assumption was deeply stuck in her mind and emerged every time she wanted to share. So she kept everything to herself and shared only the best of him. Her friends sincerely believed they were perfect and wanted the same for themselves. All of them were beginning to think that they didn’t want to settle for ‘just okay’ and constantly changed their partners, which amused her as she knew that long relationship meant a continuous contribution and self-development on both sides. ‘Maybe I should start telling them this’, she thought to herself, but, knowing that nobody ever listened to anyone’s advice, she was waiting for her friends to find this on their own.

There were steps in the hallway and someone entered the room they were in. She burrowed her face into his breast. That couldn’t seem strange as they actually should have been sad. It was their last day together. So the guests didn’t want to disturb them during this romantic moment.

Soon his friend was going to leave and he had to go too. She hugged him tight, he said a few tender words and they parted. Her friend was staying at hers so she had to keep smiling through the night.

‘You’re both so sweet’, she heard, ‘But do you necessarily have to kiss all the time?’

‘Come on, I am leaving tomorrow’. There was not a sign of surprise on her face although she felt a lot of it.

‘Yeah! For two weeks’.

‘This is a lot for us’, she said smiling.

He was sending her text messages before she went to bed, saying how he was sorry, how he was remembering what her face looked like when crying, how it hurt him, how he loved her. She warmly sent her own apologies and her own love and regrets. They wished each other good nights and went to sleep.