Sunny sometimes caught herself spending fractions of her days drawing images in her mind of the consequences of not returning any more of Darwin’s calls after that cold London night in September. It was not a habit that love begged her for. That word was not the name of any emotion he inspired in her. She feared that she and him might turn into marionettes whose strings were pulled by each other’s intentions, both old and those budding still. There was uncertainty in cutting those strings. It could grant Darwin and herself an amount of freedom or even just a sense of it, but committing it could also leave the two of them as limp as forgotten dolls.
These two possibilities were the two sides of a coin and whichever she would be handed, she would welcome. She liked looking at the brighter side, for the silver lining. But there was another question she kept tucked away at the back of her mind, one that she could not gather enough courage and honesty to answer. There was no regret born out of sleeping with him. What she needed to be sure of before she stopped seeing Darwin was whether she wanted to push him out of her world the world of London escorts or she wanted to push herself away from his shores.
She considered flipping a coin. It was a silly idea and she knew that whichever image of consequence would be filled with colors, neither she nor Darwin would deserve it. The emotions and intimacy that can be born out of in calls, we should be like the Swiss just have sex drive-ins.
For her, there was not a need to spend more fractions of her time worrying about losing the money that he paid her. The city of London was home to thousands of men engulfed in their lonely lives, men who believed that they could be pulled out of those depths with an escorts encounter. Her voice mail was brimming with messages left by her former London clients who longed for her companionship in spite of having been in the company of other escorts.
On the morning that followed that clod London night in September, while walking along the sidewalks of the city of London, she spent an hour in the café where she used to write pieces of poetry. She thought it was a fine idea to drink coffee in the morning rather than in the afternoon when the coffee was a mere excuse to be there. She paced towards the back to the table where she shared warm drinks and slices of blueberry cheesecakes with her clients. It was bright, she noticed and chuckled at the thought of how the place lost its familiarity at that time of the day. She wrapped her hands around the ceramic and inhaled the steam that floated from the surface of the cup. She listened to the bell ringing each time the door was opened by people thirsty for caffeine and people leaving with their tall paper cups.
She lifted her eyes from the table after hearing the voice of a man. At first, she thought that Darwin followed her. But the man asking to share the table with her did not look like Darwin. She nodded her head, a smile creeping on her lips and fantasies filling her head.