The Wolf's Song

Split Realities

Diana

Through the wide windows of the living room, I watch the rain fall. It has started in the early afternoon, a soft, cold drizzle, barely leaving the scent of damp earth wafting through the air.

Behind the windows, at the beginning of the forest stands Michael along with the rest of his pack, Robert, Francis and now Clarissa too, who seems to be laughing at something he says. I look at her and notice the way she annoys Robert when he comments something regarding Michael’s orders, and I understand that, although she looks comfortable, she may not really feel comfortable enough with the pack to really say that she is part of them.

“Diana, can you hear me?” my mother’s voice says, bringing my thoughts back to reality.

“What? Oh, yes. I’m sorry, Mom. I got distracted just for a moment,” I answer.

She called me about ten minutes ago because she’s very excited about a charity event she’s planning to attend. She has been practicing with the children in the orchestra for weeks for this and has prepared them to perform a beautiful piece that she is very excited about.

I am happy for her, and through Michael’s laptop screen I watch her dance, as she shows me the dress that she plans to wear that night and makes as many comments as possible about the musical development of the children she is working with.

“Is everything okay, honey?” she asks, noticing the strangeness on my face.

We may be thousands of miles apart, but my mother has always been good at reading me.

“All good, yes,” I affirm, dedicating a smile to her face, while bringing my concentration to this moment. “Everything looks perfect. What time is the event?”

“Diana, you don’t fool me,” she then says and sighs. “Tell me, is everything all right with Bamberg? You’ve hardly told me anything these days. How is everything going with Michael?”

Michael. His name gets stuck on my mother’s lips, and I notice the way she frowns slightly when she asks about him. She doesn’t have much faith in this springtime relationship I’m immersed in.

“It’s all good, Mom. It’s just that I have my mind on a lot of things right now. I’m sorry if I seem distracted.” I sigh and put the best possible smile on my face. “It’s going well with Michael. I’ll introduce you to him as soon as I can, I promise. He’s... Well, he’s a wonderful person, you know. He’s a little busy right now, but I’ll be sure to call you soon so you can meet.”

She grimaces with her mouth and looks at me before she says, “Well, honey, that all sounds great to me, but tell me, how serious are you two? Because, after all, I’m worried about you, Diana...”

And without her finishing the sentence, I know very well what she’s worried about. She’s worried that I’ll decide to stay at Bamberg, or instead, that my heart will break in two when Michael decides to stay here, if I decide to leave. We both have our lives set on opposite poles of the world, and my mother has never been a believer in long-distance relationships.

“Well, we’re serious, or so I think. The relationship is going well, actually.” I bite my lip.

“And you haven’t thought about what happens when you get back to New York? It’s only a month or so before you return,” she reminds me, a prospect I hadn’t really wanted to think about.

“Well, we haven’t really talked about it, but I’m sure we will,” I promise with a forced smile. “It’s not like Michael doesn’t have the option to move, I mean. He’s got his own business, and stuff. I’m sure he’ll agree to come to New York if I ask him to.”

“Are you sure, daughter? I don’t want to sound pessimistic about this, but it sounds like such a serious request... And you guys have together what, a month?”

I want to tell her that we actually have a lot more time than that together. It feels like a lifetime; like just an instant, but I can’t go into detail with her.

“But it’s not the time that matters, right? It’s what we feel. And I really like him, Mom.” I admit it.

“And he feels the same way about you?” she asks, and I nod, noticing the fear in her eyes.

Since my father, love terrifies her, but I can’t explain to her that maybe he left her for the right reasons, that maybe he has loved her all this time.

“Mom, I promise you everything will be all right. Michael and I will talk about the future when we need to, and I’m sure we’ll make the best decisions possible. Believe it or not, I can be very mature about certain things.”

“When it comes to love, no one thinks or acts maturely,” she argues, sighing.

“Well, in that case, I promise I’ll be the exception,” I laugh and try to change the conversation, but even though she follows my thread, I notice that both of our thoughts remain fixed on the same point.

Soon after, the call cuts off, and I rise from the couch as I cross my arms, hugging my own body and looking out at the lonely forest. Within its immense thicket, the wolves run free, and I know their voices are communicating in the distance, in a language I cannot understand, and which is perhaps a deeper part of what I have ever understood.

“Is everything all right?”

Michael’s voice whispers behind my back and his arms soon get me. His skin is warm, even though the rain has found him, but the heat never seems able to leave his footing. His naked torso sticks to my back, and his hair tickles the bare skin of my neck as he pushes aside my hair to slide his lips over my skin, down from my cheek, past my neck, and on to my shoulder.

“All in order, yes,” I sigh and close my eyes, letting the trail of his kisses linger on my skin, lost in his scent of soap, rain, and something else. “My mother has called to tell me about an event she is very excited about,” I comment casually.

“That’s nice,” he whispers, as he gently bites my neck. His arms wrap around my waist, and I feel my skin crawl.

“She wants to meet you,” I whisper with my eyes closed, one of my fingers tracing circles on the back of his hand.

“Should I be worried or happy that she does?” he asks as he catches my earlobe with his lips.

“Probably both,” I laugh and turn around in his arms, then raise my face to look at him.

He looks at me. I stand on tiptoe, and our lips meet. I allow my lips to open for him, for his scent to fill everything in me as my arms wrap around his neck, and he pulls me against the hard, warm surface of his skin. I feel the beat of his heart, echoing against mine, and as his tongue opens the pathways of my mouth, I sigh.

This man, who until two months ago was a stranger, has become every shade of my world. The sun rises and sets with him, and the moon takes on new colors in its wake. A part of me is terrified at the depth of my feelings, but it is love, more than anything else that I feel, and unlike my mother, I am not afraid of love.

“Would you have a problem if we left this conversation for later?” he asks in a husky voice as his tongue runs along my lower lip, and I deny against his face, unable to let go, unable to let go.

Michael lifts me then, easily, his hands on my ass and waist as I wrap my legs around his hips. He kisses me and I lose myself, letting him lead us both into the room; lost in his breath, lost in his touch, lost in him... and in the feeling that I am only complete when I am by his side.