Love Conquers All

by Galia Albin

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  A sensual frenzy, that was how Talia described her relationship with Seffi. He studied her body as one would the anatomy of a rare creature. He explored every nook and cranny, caressing them with sweet indulgence. Every time he touched her, she almost swooned with pleasure.

  But when they weren’t together, she was tormented by guilt. Her stomach contracted, and any attempt to feed herself was torture. Seffi prescribed some vitamins but when she was away from his scrutinizing eyes she regurgitated everything she tried to swallow. Ditty asked if she’d seen a doctor. “Look at you! Is Seffi blind? Soon you’ll disappear, you’re skin and bones.”

  Traitor, cheater, renegade, she whispered to herself in the bed that had once more become the site of pleasure. Seffi left for the hospital, and the fresh memory of her raptures became a torture. Two men cannot dwell in the same bedroom with one woman. And what about smells? The odors of two men cannot co-exist in the same place. Seffi’s odor, heavy and aromatic, filled the bedroom air, dispelling Jonathan’s delicate, more subtle scent.

  Talia was a rational woman, but she was also receptive to ideas that transcend the realm of rationalism. The ethereal figure of Jonathan, that from time to time appeared in her room, was the embodiment of her inner wishes. Once he had stopped coming, her energies dwindled. When Jonathan no longer sat facing her in his favorite armchair, she knew that he was no longer the center of her thoughts.

  Talia entered her superbly organized walk-in closet that was her joy and pride. In a zippered plastic bag she kept her most cherished treasure. Those were the clothes Jonathan wore on his last day. Larry had given them to her after the shiva. They contained his blue cotton pants, the white silk shirt, fine underwear and a wide flowery tie designed by Daniel Hechter.

  The only item she put away in a safe was Jonathan’s Cartier watch, which she planned to give to Jonathan when he grew up.

  Even in prison he was dressed to the nines, she mused and smiled, burying her head in the bag. She took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the smell — Jonathan’s wonderful, unforgettable aroma had given way to the smells of the detention center, and the clothes gave off the whiff of sweat and vomit. And yet she didn’t feel any aversion, when she absorbed the last tangible remnants she had left of her husband, and breathing in these bitter scents, she delved into the past.