The Middle of a Dream

It’s not often that you find yourself in the middle of a dream, knowing it’s reality. As I sat in the middle of the museum, surrounded by some of the most incredible pieces of artwork in the world, I knew that I had to be dreaming.

The marble hall was warm with the low buzz of conversation as people milled about, discussing this statue and that painting. It wrapped around me, comforting and sweet. I closed my eyes and felt myself drifting. I wrapped my silk shawl tighter around my shoulders, feeling the soft fabric slip through my fingers.

A hand touched my arm, so gently. I opened my eyes, and there he was. The man I had been waiting my entire life to meet. I hadn’t known, when I sat down on this bench in this museum, that I would be meeting my soulmate. Yet there he was. His kind eyes looking at me as if he’d known me forever. A soft smile lit his face, and he glowed.

In that instant, I saw our future. The suit he wore at our wedding was bespoke, made of the softest fabric. I could feel the way it moved as we danced. Our honeymoon was spent in the warm water of the Caribbean, under the stars. We settled in a lovely cottage in the countryside, with enough land for the children to run around with the dog. As we aged, we fell more in love each day, spending hours wandering the garden, not speaking but enjoying the company.

We spent our lives together, and as I gazed into his eyes in that museum I could see it all. I tried to speak, but my words caught in my throat. The world fell away, and we were frozen in time.

“Mademoiselle, I asked if you wouldn’t mind moving for my wife to sit?”

The words fell on my ears, and my heart shattered.

It was only then that I noticed his beautiful, pregnant wife, standing mere feet from us.

I still couldn’t speak. I gathered my purse, smiled softly, and left the hallway. My cheeks were warm with tears and embarrassment.

I couldn’t stand to be in that museum a moment longer. I stumbled my way out to the river, tripping over the cobblestone in my heels.

It wasn’t a dream. I had known it wasn’t a dream. It was reality, and reality was cruel.

I tore my shoes from my feet and sat at the river’s edge, one moment away from throwing myself in. I shivered against the heartbreak that coursed through my body.

I had to get a grip on myself. I looked up into the sky and started counting the stars. It was a trick my Nan had taught me. I knew that I could never count them all but looking at them made my problems seem small. It worked every time. My heart slowed, and the tears stopped.

With shuddering breaths, I stood. I had to be practical. I’d never met the man before in my life. It was foolish to believe that we were soulmates. I shook my head and returned to reality. I was not some romance heroine, waiting to be swept off her feet by a stranger in a museum.

Glancing around, the lights of a busy café glittered on the river. I wanted to be surrounded by music and people and life. I found my way into a seat overlooking the water.

“A glass of merlot, mademoiselle. Compliments of the madame at that table.”

As the glass was set onto the table, I looked up and saw a woman walking towards me. She seemed to glide through the tables with wings on her feet. Her smile was soft, and her eyes pierced through me. Without asking, she settled in the chair opposite me, her fingers playing with the stem of her own wineglass.

“No one should be drinking alone on a night like this one,” she said. Her voice was like chocolate, rich and smooth. “You look like a man just broke your heart.”

“Not a man so much as an over-active imagination,” I said ruefully.

“Well, we don’t really need imagination, and we certainly don’t need men,” she laughed and my stomach swooped.

“I suppose that’s true.”

Our glasses clinked, and as we raised the wine to our lips our eyes met. Hers were sparkling, the light playing with them and inviting me in. I felt my face warm as I smiled at her.

In that moment, it was not just the two of us. Time did not freeze.

We were surrounded by people in that bustling café on the river’s edge, and we talked through the night. We talked until we were asked to leave, and we talked as we meandered through the city. We talked as the stars faded and the sun came up. And as she held my hand, and kissed me softly, I didn’t picture our future. I was transfixed in that perfect moment.

And I found myself thinking, ‘It’s not often that you find yourself in the middle of a dream, knowing it’s reality.’