the years, John would think about this moment and remember it as when he fell in love with her, without even knowing it at the time. John’s lips found hers. He kissed her gently and she moved her lips to kiss him back. They kissed and held each other tighter. Her breathing grew deeper and she let out a soft moan. They kissed again and John held her by the shoulders and covered her face with gentle kisses. He pulled away, took her by the hand, and led her past the living room, down the hallway to his bedroom.
Their lovemaking was passionate and fulfilling. Amira had found an oasis in her desert. When it was over, John pulled slowly away and looked at her as large gentle tears rolled out of the corners of her eyes and she buried her face on his shoulder. He held her and ran one hand over her until he could feel her shoulders relax and she had wiped away the tears.
Amira looked up at him. “I have these feelings for you… they don’t match my knowledge of you. We’ve spent a couple of hours together over a dinner and I cannot stop thinking about you.”
“I feel the same way. I’ve been thinking about you too.” John took a deep breath and squeezed her tight for a moment.
Amira stared at the ceiling. Now what? She lay still and quiet for a long time. “So, where does that leave us?”
“Do you love him?”
“No, there hasn’t been love in that relationship in a long time.” Amira was embarrassed by her answer.
“That’s all I need to know. I want to keep seeing you, whenever we can, and we’ll see how it goes between us and where it leads.” John meant what he was saying. He had her best interests in mind, and he didn’t want to cause her any of the pain that he thought an affair would bring. “I’ve a very flexible schedule for my work. I’m sure we can find time to spend together.”
“That sounds like a good start to me.”
She relaxed. She was glad it wasn’t over before it really began. She wanted badly to be with a man she desired. Even if it was stolen time together.
“I don’t want to get out of bed with you to cook,” John said.
“Me either.”
John took his cell phone from the side table and punched up the app for Tung Tse Chinese Restaurant. “How about Chinese food?”
Amira looked around the room for the first time. Both bedside tables, the desk in the corner, the dresser, and the floor around the bed were covered in books.
“What do you like to read?”
“Everything.”
“Ever heard of a Kindle?”
“I have a couple of those. Each one has about a thousand books on it… Chinese?”
“Sounds wonderful,” Amira replied.
“Done. They say a forty-minute delivery time.”
Amira slid over on top of him. “Just enough time.”
Three hours later, empty cartons of Chinese food lay about John’s bedroom, and the bottle of wine from the kitchen sat emptied. Amira had dressed, gathered herself, kissed John good-bye at the door, and left. He was back in bed. His phone rang. He looked, hoping it was Amira. He was disappointed.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Hi, John. Did I wake you?”
Just from that short sentence John could tell that she had been drinking.
“I’m just watching TV.”
“How have you been? Seems forever since I’ve heard from you.”
“I’ve been good. You know, working hard.”
“I like that you work at your father’s place. It has been so long since I’ve seen it. I should come to Boston and visit soon.”
John knew she wouldn’t. A long silence followed.
“Or you could come to Manhattan and visit me.”
“I will, next Christmas—I promise.”
“You sound just like your father now over the phone. My God, next year you’ll turn thirty. Where have the years gone?” Another long silence. “Me and Mark are going to Japan next week. Would you like to come with us?”
“Sorry, I have to work.” John didn’t know who Mark was. He didn’t want to know.
“Oh yes, your research. I forgot. When we get back, I’ll be sure to call and tell you about it.” She slurred the last part. John knew by now how to pick out the words.
“I’ll talk to you then.” John took the opening to end the conversation.
“Bye, dear.”
“Bye, Mom.”
John opened a book to read. Then put it back down. He didn’t need to read to sleep tonight. In his dreams, he was with Amira.
APRIL 10, 2022
The months following Amira’s first visit to my apartment were the happiest I’d ever known. I diligently watched the monkeys’ progress, and I finished the CAT scan system in anticipation of the new arrivals. Amira and I saw each other often, usually at lunch. I would return to work with the scent of her still on me and casually pass Ethan in the hallway. Sometimes she came to my apartment in the mornings after taking Elona to school and on Saturday afternoons when she could make an excuse to be out of the house.
One weekend in late April, when Ethan was away on business travel, we saw a movie while holding hands. It sounds so trivial now, but I remember it being a big deal. Out and about like a normal couple, doing normal date things. The times when we were together passed at twice the speed of a normal day. We talked about literature and philosophy and why the world was the way it was and how it could be better and how we would change it. I was not really much of a talker; I think I was a bit too practical to really be chatty. Except when I was around her. She inspired me and opened my mind to different subject matters, and we talked and talked for hours on end without any of it being forced or trite. She simply brought out the best in me. And I believed I did the same for her. We were happy and content and stimulated in each other’s company. And that was all we needed. That night, we ate dinner at a restaurant before rushing back to my apartment. She always had to go too soon, leaving me there with the sweat-dampened sheets and silence.
By mid-June the five expectant monkeys had each given birth to healthy replicas of Petri. It was a time of great excitement, and I spent long hours in the lab studying and observing the mother-infant pairs and performing tests on the infants. By September the newborn monkeys were eating solid food and thriving. They were developing normally and I felt confident I had achieved a 100 percent success rate for embryo implantation.
Things were going well, but that was about to change. At first, I was sure it was for the better, only to find out it was for the worse.
SEPARATION
“Amira, come here.”
Ethan’s command came from the study. Supper baked in the oven. Elona was watching TV in the living room. It was early evening on a Friday. Amira stopped mid-stroke in ironing Elona’s dress. She knew that tone all too well. Whatever Ethan wanted to talk about couldn’t be good. Her hope for a peaceful weekend winked out of existence in an instant. She placed the iron on the counter. Her mind raced. We’ve been very careful. No texts. No emails. I always call him, never the other way around. I always use the prepaid phone. It’s still hidden in the lining of my purse. He hasn’t found that, my purse is in here.
Amira stood in the doorway of the study. Ethan sat at his desk, his laptop in front of him.
“Why