Empath

“Do you love me?” She turned to face him, breaking the silence that had stretched between them since the movie ended. The black backdrop of the credits rolling did little to brighten the otherwise dark room. Mark inhaled sharply, taking in the scent of her coconut shampoo in the process. His mouth gaped momentarily while he carefully decided what to say next. After a moment, he closed his mouth and cleared his throat. Nothing came out, so he tried again.

“Of course, Hannah. Why do you ask?” His heart thundered in his chest, threatening to jump into his throat and suffocate him. She can’t know. It’s impossible; I only made up my mind yesterday. Suddenly, the feeling of her shoulders under his arm felt a lot less comforting than it had moments ago.

“Just checking.” She looked up at him and beamed, before sitting up and planting a kiss on his lips. Mark breathed a silent sigh of relief. That was one conversation he didn’t want to have. Not yet. “So what should we watch next?” She inquired brightly. “You know, I haven’t seen this ye—“

The room sloughed away like oil paint off a canvas, taking the flickering TV, Hannah, and the unspoken words that she deserved with it.

What replaced them was an onslaught of broken images and sounds. Packed bags jumbled in a corner of a room that thrummed with childhood. A head of blonde locks that smelled of coconut turning away from him for the last time. Consoling words buzzing behind the haze of love lost.

After that, the images seemed to lose continuity. Memories from Mark’s early childhood flashed one after the other in a whirlwind of emotions, blending into one another while a white haze encroached on the edges of his vision. As the maelstrom quickened, he felt as if he were sinking into molasses; into a thick wetness that choked consciousness from him. The last thing he heard was Hannah’s voice asking him the question he wished she hadn’t had to ask.

“Do you love me?”