Me and Mr Jones

The only thing I saw before I passed out was that bright light from a vehicle approaching in my way…

I opened my eyes slowly and sat up. There was a light shone in through the big windows on the left, but it was not much – the rain was showering outside. I turned to the other side and felt just now that my right hand was held in a hand of a man who was slumbering at the edge of my bed.

The wedding ring on his finger flashed a little into my eyes.

He stirred and lifted his head to look at me. Still holding my hand, he said energetically, “how are you feeling?”

He was the doctor of my family. The one I used to admire. The one I thought attractive during those first few years after I, as a young lady, had learned that human beings had this ability called ‘love’.

He moved closer to my face, looking into my eyes for some check-ups. Suddenly my heart started beating fast and that memory hit my mind – I had been in love with him for quite a while now since the last time we met not long ago. We spent a couple of days together when he was needed at my family’s beach house.

I remembered now that we confessed our feeling in regard to each other back then and looked at the wedding ring on my finger, making sure that everything was real.

Our eyes locked each other’s and all the feeling that should have been forgotten surging inside. I grabbed his tie and we kissed passionately. He moved his hand to my waist and I forgot the whole world.

Michael Bublé’s Me and Mrs Jones was playing over us. He was sitting across me in the coffee shop we decided to meet a few days after that hospital event. We were holding hands, looking into each other’s eyes. I could understand all the feelings he tried to communicate through his sad eyes. We did not talk much and I spent most of the time noticing our wedding rings.

No, his wedding ring with another woman and my wedding ring with another man.


Suggested soundtrack: Schizophrenia by Alexandre Desplat