Artificial Sweetener

“I remember at 4am, you rolled over to love me in your sleep. I remember at 5am you woke up and it was all a dream.”

Luke. 17/07/2015

Her face had withered in the last week. As though the worry in the wind had beaten fragile creases into her smooth skin. She looks paler than usual and her dry lips crack as she attempts a small smile. He doesn’t respond with the same careful kindness, though it takes him fighting every urge to not. A slow, curdling rage boils in his gut. He waits.

“How have you been?” 

“Fine, you?”

“Yeah alright, I guess.”

Silence.

Clink. Her spoon hits the china. Clink. Clink. Clink. She stirs her tea, staring down with forced fascination. Clink. Clink. Clink. Clink. Clink.

“Stop!”

She looks up, startled, and slowly puts down the spoon. He watches her glance around the small café. There’s one lone waitress working the floor. She absentmindedly checks her watch, counting down the hours, minutes, and seconds until she can leave.

Jess. 25/10/2012

The café, although not empty, is quiet this morning. The occasional sleepy student shuffles in for their routine coffee to go, but other than that she is alone in this crowd of tapping keys and scratching pens that are held by hands that recoil at the mention of deadlines.

The door tinkles with the arrival of another customer and she checks her phone for the time.

9:45am

Her meeting starts in 15 minutes and she starts packing away her things. Notebook? Check. Textbook? Check. Pen? Check. Ready to go, she slides her bag from the table, knocking her cup off the side. Her insides cringe as she watches the remains of her tea soak the leg of a passer-by.

“Shit.”

“Oh my God! I’m so sorry!” She lunges for the napkins from the table and quickly presses the wad to the quickly spreading stain on his trousers. 

“No, it’s fine. You don’t have to do that.”

“But your leg…”

He crouches down to look at her properly. She pauses in her dabbing.

“Honestly, don’t worry about it.”

Luke. 17/07/2015

“Jess, why am I here?”

She doesn’t look at him. Instead, she picks up the tea in both hands and takes a sip. Briefly scrunching up her nose she reaches for another sachet of artificial sweetener. She pinches and rolls the granules between her fingers as she thinks. Eventually, she tears the packet open and tips it in.

“You know, it’s funny… I’ve never liked sweetener.” She stirs the tea again. Is she waiting for a reply? He waits. “But it’s always been what we’ve used.”

“Why didn’t you just use sugar then?”

“Because you used sweetener to make our tea because you liked it and you thought I liked it too. I just figured it would be one of those things I’d learn to like.”

“It’s only sugar, Jess.”

“I know it’s only sugar. But I wanted you to know how I took my tea and you never actually asked if I liked sweetener so I…” She turns her eyes on him, “I just pretended.”

The sounds of the café bleed into the silence between them. Spoons and clicking and hushed voices and the whirring of machines. He’s unsure whether she plans on continuing, but she drinks her artificially tainted tea, keeping her eyes to herself, and he realises that she’s done. He stares down, ashamed. How had he never asked? It was such a simple thing and he’d never known. Never thought to ask. Not once in three years. Always assumed…

He traces the grooves in the wooden table. They’re worn down and half-faded from the overuse that the table has endured over the years, but he still finds the crescent shaped marks from where his own nails had dug into the wood two years before.

Luke. 23/02/2013

The café was busy with chatter. The doors and windows were shut against frost ridden winds. Jess cradled her steaming mug close to her chest like a defenceless new born. Her hands, both gentle and firm around the china, were still pink from the cold. As was her nose. And the curves of her cheeks. A few strands of hair had escaped from her woollen hat to curl around her jaw.

“I love you.”

He says it without thinking and her eyebrows jump up when she looks at him. She says nothing. Oh God. He shouldn’t have said it. What is she thinking? She’s not going to say it back. He should not have said it. Her wide eyes penetrate through the mist from her mug to him, the delicate veil making the brown shimmer. Then she smiled.

“I love you too.”

She reaches for his hand and he releases the grip he hadn’t even realised he’d had on the table. His nails slot neatly out from the dents they had formed. He threads his fingers through hers and holds her tight.

Luke. 17/07/2015

She’s fidgeting again. Quietly this time. She picks up a napkin and starts to tear it into neat strips, allowing them to pile up on the table. Soon there’s nothing left for her to tear apart and she looks at him once more. As though burnt by him in the few seconds their eyes meet, her eyes quickly wander to focus on something behind him. Maybe she feels ashamed of the mess she’d made of him, not knowing what to do, unable to discard him like the injured stack that lays next to her tea. He drinks from his own cup and she mirrors the action, drinking deeply.

“Have you been okay?” He asks, while she drinks. Her expression changes – she knows what he’s asking – and she sets down the cup.

“Yeah, I suppose. It hurt for a bit but now it doesn’t bother me so much.” Her hand fell to her abdomen for a brief moment before she starts fiddling with the napkin remains again. He doesn’t press her further.

“Luke, I’m sorry I hurt you.”

Her words hang in the air and he swallows his resentment.

“Yeah, I know.” He didn’t want to her apologise for the wrong things anymore. It doesn’t matter.

Jess catches the waitress’s eye, gesturing for another tea. She smiles and nods in understanding, heading behind the counter to make one. Turning her attention back to Luke, she carefully rolls words over her tongue before speaking.

“I should’ve spoken to you-”

“Yeah, you should have.” He interrupts, words frozen over.

“But you’ve always known what you’ve wanted.” She continued levelly, holding is look. He breaks their contact and lets his head fall forwards, caught by his hands which pinch the bridge of his nose. He shuts his eyes and lets her words cut through him. 

The waitress brings over the cup of tea and places it in front of her. She asks if there’s anything else she can get them and Jess politely declines, shaking her head and turns to look at Luke once more.

“I realised that…” She hesitates. “I realised that I wasn’t sure what I wanted anymore.” She reached for the sugar bowl and he saw the wetness in her eye that she had been holding back. She took a sugar sachet and held it for a moment, before decidedly tearing it open and tipping it into her fresh cup of tea. 

Luke. 19/11/2013

It’s way too cold to be out, but he waits anyway. He’s pretty sure he’s waiting for her, but by this point, where he can’t feel his feet in his boots or his hands fidgeting with his keys in his pocket, he knows it doesn’t really matter. The film starts in five minutes, and he did say to come for nine, so he really doesn’t have a reason to be outside, she knows where to go. But he knows all this and he waits still. He wants to see her turn up. Wants to hear the excuse. She’s not late yet, but she will be.

*

She’s fifteen minutes late.

“Hi! Sorry I’m late.” She says offering no further explanation. She kisses his cheek. Soft lips catch themselves on two-day stubble and his shoulders loosen. 

“No worries.”

He watches her walk ahead of him, resenting the way that with one touch he could forgive her. Was it resentment? More of an apprehensive admiration maybe. His footsteps echo around the lobby, she turns when she hears him approach and smiles again. She holds out her hand to him and he quickens his pace, reaching out and makes a fist around her own so he can fit both their hands into his pocket.

“What film are we watching?” 

“I thought we could watch About Time.” He had spent over half an hour going through the movies that were on tonight and decided that would be the one she liked best. She frowns momentarily but when she catches him trying to read her face she scrunches up her face and pouts at him. He laughs and she giggles with him, reaching up on tiptoes to kiss him once more. He holds her against him by the small of her back and watches her blush underneath his stare. She kisses his nose and then wriggles away.

“So… Popcorn?”

“Definitely.”

Jess. 17/06/2015

Tap. Tap. Tap. Jess’s nail hits the sink, waiting. She looks into the mirror, her face is pale and gleaming with sweat. She stands up cautiously and looks at herself in the full length one. Her hair is tied back and the messy strands that she missed tickle her face. She lifts her t-shirt nervously and turns to look at herself from the side. On her left hand she counts one, then two, then three fingers. She turns to face herself in the mirror. Her reflection stares back at her, wide-eyed, panicked. She returns to the sink and starts tapping again.

Luke. 19/06/2015

He opens the door to the flat. Their home harboured a stillness that he was not used to. On the mat the post still lay untouched and there was no hum from the TV. He looks to the table that sat in the hallway. Her keys weren’t there.

“Jess?” She was usually home before him on a Friday. He walks through the house and into the lounge. Instead of seeing her curled up on the sofa wrapped in the purple cashmere blanket his mother gave them when they moved in, he sees a note on the coffee table, the familiar handwriting read;

Gone to Mum’s for the weekend.

See you on Monday, I love you.

Jess xx

Damn. He had forgotten she was going this weekend. He remembered her mentioning the plans the other night as they were getting ready for bed, but he was already on the cusp of sleep, reality and dream had bled into one another. He picks up the note and a waft of her perfume rises with it. He smiles as he walks to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee, note still in hand. 

Luke. 17/07/2015

She reaches for his hand and holds it. He closes his eyes and falls into her rhythmic touch, her gentle fingers brushing his own. When her fingers falter over his pulse he opens his eyes and she’s looking at him, a reluctant resolve in her eyes. 

“I think you should go now, Luke.” She says, letting go of him to take a sip from her cup.

Last updated: April 17, 2020