Page 16 of Adam & Eve

The way she spoke, dressed and fucked were boring. She had no goals for her life. She’d

been trained to be subservient, obedient. To not want more than she’d be given. That night I’d

began to loathe her and the thought of attaching myself to that way of life. She was too much like

my mother. Growing up, I watched my father cheat on and disrespect her. No matter what he did,

she took it with a fake smile. Her lifestyle was paramount to her dignity. She had no respect for

herself and for that I hated her, and women like her.

After watching my parents and their friends, I had no belief in the sanctity of marriage. It

was a piece of paper to me, the combining of fortunes. Wasn’t it?

I chuckled at the fact that a girl I wouldn’t usually notice simply walking away from me

made me question what I’d never questioned before. She was ordinary compared to the women I

was accustomed to. Pretty and curvy. Nothing special. Exactly like hundreds of other girls on

campus. But some unnamed, undeniable force drew me to her. She felt it, too. The awareness

between us the first time we met had been tangible. I needed to know more.

The very next day I learned her name. Eve. For weeks after, I watched her, gaining insight.

At first, only in class, or when I just happened to see her around campus. Then suddenly she was

everywhere I went, or I was everywhere she went. I wasn’t sure which. She pretended not to notice

me. That made me wonder if our meeting had the same effect on her as it had on me. It must have.

I started following her. She was a study in contrast. She was a loner but knew everyone.

She had friends, but none were close. Men approached her, but she turned them all down. She

never drew attention to herself. On the weekends, she never went out, and there was always

melancholy in her eyes. To most, she looked to be an introvert, but I knew she was hiding. From

what? I’d wondered.

After a while, watching wasn’t enough. I made my presence known. I’d purposely run into

her too many times to count during her freshman year. She was always polite but detached. I’d

start up a conversation, and she’d find a way to participate without saying much. She’d answer me

in one or two words then she would scurry off. I didn’t like it. I’d wanted to pry the words from her

mouth. I wanted her to tell me why her eyes always looked so sad when nobody was watching. She

was an enigma, my enigma. I had to figure her out.

Just before Christmas I decided to go through with my wedding. I wouldn’t cause myself

undo stress because of a girl when I didn’t even know what I wanted from her. When the