Say It

   Tell me you love me.

    He finished sipping his coffee and placed it back on the saucer that sat on the small table between them. He smiled at her, regarded her for a long moment, letting the image of her sitting there engrave itself, her legs crossed, leaning back on one elbow. He held that look on her for a long while. Then he spoke.

    I love you.

    Her eyes flit off to the wide window of the quiet café. The city outside was baked in the sun’s glare, drenched in white.

    Say it again, she said, looking out to the street.
    He smiled. I love you darling, he said again, letting his tongue roll over that word.
    Say it again. Her eyes shot back to his. Look at me when you say it.
    His smile hung, uncertain, as her calm stare pierced through his own.
    I love you.
    Say it again.
    I love you, he said.
    Again.
    His mouth wilted open and he paused.
    Come on Annie. I just said it a whole bunch of times, you know I love you.
    Say it, she said.
    I love you. He sat forward in his chair, reaching for his coffee. Come on now. I love you.
    Say it again.
    I love you.
    Again.
    I love you.
    Again.
    Annie, come on, what’s the matter with you?
    Say it again.
    I love you. Now cut it out, look--
    Again.
    Will you—I love you. Ok? I love you. Now will you cut it out?
    Say it again.

    He sat back, bringing his coffee back with him and resting it on his stomach as his thumb ran back and forth along the outer edge of the cup.

    I love you.
    Say it again.
    I love you.
    Say it again.
    Annie.
    Say it.
    Annie, stop.
    Say it again.

    He looked around the café and to the window and let out a short, exasperated laugh. He turned back to her, looked her in the eyes.

    I love you.
    Say it again.
    Looked her in her pale gray eyes.
    I love you.
    Say it again.
    I love you.
    Say it again.
    Annie, please.
    Say it again.
    I love you, he whispered softly.
    Say it again.
    I love you.
    Say it again.

    She held him there, her gray eyes locked on his as they pushed him further into his chair. He wanted to move but he couldn’t. His chest had begun to cave in on itself as he gripped his coffee cup and looked at her steady eyes, his own now hot and wet.

    Say it again.
    Her voice was even, leashed by a calm tone. They were no longer words, but sounds, over and over and over.
    Say it again.
    His lips were pressed tight and he sat, sinking further into his chair. He spoke quietly, evenly.
    I love you.
    She sat, impassive.
    Say it again.
    He answered.
    Say it again.
    He answered.
    Say it again.
    I love you.
    Say it again.
    He sat, quiet.
    Say it again.

    He breathed steadily, his lips tight, hers still and calm. They looked across the table at each other, neither saying a word. Her lips parted open. He waited for her, wishing he would never have to speak another word to her again.

​