Coffee and Champagne

Just a small piece about a woman's feelings towards her husband.

The bittersweet taste of his breath, like coffee and champagne, reminded me of the rush I used to get when I smelt it. Looking into his bleak eyes gave me a sudden flash of the first time I saw him.

My eyes locked with a pair of eyes across the room. I was mesmerized by the beauty and life these eyes held, I was drawn to their spark. Almost immediately I was aware of a force that seemed to be pulling me in the direction of this stranger, my eyes never strayed from his. I was unaware of the people in the club that surrounded us, I didn’t even feel my feet touching the floor as I walked closer. Suddenly I was standing inches from this man I had never met, yet I felt more connected than I had ever felt in my life. I reached a hand up and gently ran a finger down his stubbly jaw bone. I smelt the faint scent of his breath, a beautiful mixture of dark and sweet, and I was instantly addicted. He took my hand and we danced around the room, our chests vibrating with the rhythm of the music. We laughed and drank and kissed and by the end of the night I knew that it was love.

Thrown back to reality, I looked once again into my husband’s eyes. They were nothing but ghosts of the beautiful things I had once been drawn to. My heart was suddenly heavy with sadness as I tried to remember when everything had changed.

I heard Jonah start to cry at the back of the house, and immediately got up to get him. I knew Myrine wouldn’t get our son, he never did. When I came back into the living room minutes later, Jonah in my arms, Myrine was still sitting in his leather armchair in the corner of the room. I guessed he hadn’t moved in hours, except to refill his glass.

“Dadda” Jonah’s face lit up when he spotted his father. He started squirming in my arms, so I set him down on the shag carpet so he could go greet Myrine. The 2 year old crawled over to his father and started pulling on his pant leg. Myrine barely smiled.

“Hello son.” He muttered, his glazed eyes stayed staring out the window.

 

 

I watched from the rocking chair in the corner of the room at my husband and son huddled together. They had squished into Jonah’s bed, and Myrine was reading him a story about a red truck. They were both laughing and tickling each other, and seeing their smiles brought me joy. Seeing this made me think of the dreams I had as a child about the family I hoped for.

I’ll have a big family, four or five children. I will have a loving husband and a big friendly dog. We’ll live in a family friendly neighbourhood, in a big house with a white fence and a big yard. The kids would walk to and from school together every day, and when their dad came home from work we’d all eat supper together. At night we’ll all pile into mine and my husband’s king sized bed for a story before everyone went to their separate rooms. My husband will read a story, doing the different voices of the characters as he read. We’d all laugh and cuddle together, with love surrounding us. 

I took in the scene in front of me and wondered once again when everything had changed. The joy was quickly shattered when I started paying closer attention to the scene in front of me. Myrine was laughing too hard at the children’s book, and his eyes were glossy and out of focus. He picked up his to-go coffee mug from the floor beside the bed and took a long swig. I knew it was full of vodka, and that that drink and many others were the reason he was so cheerful. I also knew it wouldn’t last long. My husband held the cold metal to our son’s forehead until he squealed and pulled away. They both laughed, and when Jonah held out his hands to take the mug Myrine put it to the boy’s lips and let him take a small sip. Suddenly the room was spinning and colors where blurring and Myrine’s deep laugh was ringing in my ears and I had the overwhelming thought that I had to get out. I was vaguely aware of myself standing up and crossing the room to stand over my son’s bed.

“Alright Jonah, mommy’s going to have a bath. I’m glad you’re having fun with your dad.” I bent down and kissed his forehead, which was still cool from the mug. “Goodbye-” I shook my head, “Goodnight.” I corrected, then walked calmly from the room, my hands shaking as I turned the doorknob. 

Author's Note

Suggestions on what genre this should be in??
I'd love some comments!!!

Reviews

[beauitifulybroken]

Wow this is really intense. I really do like it, is there more to the story? Are you going to continue or is it meant to leave me wondering and assuming what comes next? Very nicely written.