They clung to each other with desperate sensuality. Melody’s apartment windows were well-hidden from view, which allowed them free rein to give in to their passion, feeling anchored and secure from the cacophony of the lurking outside world. The glow of Melody’s sweaty body did not diminish her beauty in Yiftach’s eyes, and they made love again and again. They fell asleep only at three a.m. Yiftach woke up for no apparent reason and had trouble going back to sleep. He found himself in the most vexing state of wakefulness—too tired to do anything but not tired enough to fall asleep.
He got out of bed and shuffled towards the small work corner near the living room. He glanced at Melody’s worktable and finally sat down at the computer. He began mindlessly to surf the Internet. Without thinking, he opened the third drawer of her desk with his foot. There were some dried-out pens there, old books and a folded sheet of paper. He knew that what he was about to do was inexcusable, but his curiosity got the better of him. He took out the sheet of paper. It was just a matter of time until he would have found it anyway, he justified, until he would have come across the memento that Melody had kept for herself. It was a photocopy of a letter that she had given three years earlier to the love of her life, to Eitan. The past, obviously, cannot be erased forever. He read the letter:
Eitan,
I’m writing down a bunch of words because I don’t have the strength, and certainly don’t have the courage, to saythem to you directly. So I’m imagining that this sheet of white paper is your lovely face, and that your eyes are looking deeply into mine, and your gaze, as always, is silently talking to me, knowing me so well.What is this? Yiftach asked himself, overcome with curiosity and apprehension. He took a deep breath and, with forced concentration, continued reading every word, every letter she had written down. Her overwhelming, deep feelings for Eitan, as reflected in the letter, disturbed Yiftach greatly and the sad ending of the letter hit him like a cruel ocean wave. For him it was the worst paragraph of all, where Melody wrote as follows:
Even if it isn’t true, let’s not think of our separation as final. Let’s call it taking a break. Just supposedly, just kind of. Let’s decide that we’re taking time out, away from each other, the same span of time that we lived together. Eitan, let’s take a three-year break during which time each of us will move on with our own lives. Where will you be three years from now? Where will I be? Will we be apprehensive? Will we hurt? Will we remember and be filled with longing?
Look at your watch now. We will meet again right here in exactly three more years.
Yours,
Melody Geva
Yiftach stiffened. He couldn’t believe what he had just read—in just a few weeks’ time, Melody would be meeting this Eitan again—yet somehow, he wasn’t completely surprised. Ever since Nicole’s infidelity, his fear of such events remained constantly hidden in a dark corner of his heart. This letter now just pushed it into the light. Melody never mentioned this detail to me, he thought. Has she changed her mind? Has she given up on the idea, or perhaps she has forgotten about the whole thing? He took the letter and returned to bed. Melody was still fast asleepand he gazed at her as she slept. It seemed to him, or perhaps he wanted to believe, that her sleep was not at all peaceful. In the morning, when she finally woke up, she smiled at him and pulled him towards her with both her arms. They made love again out of an instinctive, rudimentary impulse. She felt in her heart that although Yiftach was touching her and close to her as he was the night before, he was at the same time more distant and unfamiliar. His eyes expressed empathy, but his hands were aggressive. Where was this coming from? she thought. When their lovemaking ended, he immediately went to shower without remaining beside her to cuddle.
“Take a coat, the sun is deceitful,” she said when he came out of the shower, her eyes reflecting contentment after their prolonged lovemaking.
“Deceitful like you?” he threw at her cruelly. His great distress no longer enabled him to hold his tongue. Lines of anger and concern furrowed his brow. He placed her letter on the dresser next to her bed.
She looked at him, crestfallen. “Have you been going through my things?”
“That’s not the issue right now.” He looked at her as if she were a total stranger that he has just now met for the first time. “You lied to me!” he stated in a rebellious tone.
“I didn’t lie…” The tension stood heavily in the room and she couldn’t catch her breath.
He didn’t listen. “You lied to me,” he repeated. “What was I for you? A lesson to be learned? A toy? A lab rat whose role was to help you forget this Eitan? So tell me, did I fulfill my role?” She remained silent and he continued, shouting: “Did I succeed in the role you gave me?! Are you planning to go meet him? Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, and she wondered how could she possibly explain something that she herself hardly understood.
“Please listen to me,” she said.
“Why do I deserve this? You’ve been lying to me shamelessly for months!”
“I didn’t lie! You couldn’t possibly have expected me not to have a past!”
“That’s right, only this letter, Melody, is not the past—it’s a sketch of the future. It describes your intentions for next month, and it directly affects what will happen between us. So you ought to have told me about this and you didn’t. Therefore—you’re a liar.” He purposely repeated his scathing words that weren’t just insulting, but were a personal attack on her character as well. “I’m asking you for the last time—why didn’t you tell me about this?”
“Because I knew you wouldn’t understand.”
“I understand perfectly. I understand what kind of person you are.”
“Don’t be like that…” she begged.
“Like what? Hurt? Angry?” He took his wallet and keys and left her lying in bed. “Go ahead, go back to your Eitan and your kibbutz,” he hissed as he walked out, seeking to shield himself from another Nicole. That’s what happens when demons from the past keep chasing after the tomorrows. She was silent for a long while and her eyes filled with tears as she lay in her bed—which, up to a moment before, had been the bed they shared.
Chapter Twenty-One
“And Pharaoh said: ‘Go up, and bury thy father,
according as he made thee swear.”
Genesis, 50:6
“So how were things with Melody?” Max asked his son as he entered the house. When he noticed that Yiftach wasn’t answering, he added yet another question, “Are you okay?”
They sat in the living room and Yiftach told his father everything—his dream about Nicole, his feelings for Melody and the letter he found in which she confessed her love for Eitan and set a date to see him again.
“Don’t you think you’re being a bit hard on her?” Max asked, “that’s a letter she wrote almost three years ago, way before the two of you ever met.”
