Probation Officer #184: The Samoan Minister 21

Sa’afia eventually stirred. Perhaps I’d woken her by being so still, while I was trying not to wake her. 

She opened her eyes, and saw me looking at her face. “Hello, you.”  

I wondered how in hell had I not seen just how beautiful she was. I’d always thought she was beautiful, but how had I not seen just how perfect, how lustrous that beauty was. What her eyes were, what her face was, her hair, her body, her gentle and occasionally fierce mind.

She said, “Wh- what’s the time?”

How had I not seen her? I said, “It’s about four, but it doesn’t matter. Sa’afia.”


“Sa’afia, I think I’m falling in love with you. Well, not think. I know it. And not falling. I am. In love with you.”

But she looked sad. Luminously beautiful and sad. And then tears arrived, spilled.  “Oh, Jaime.”

“What’s the matter? What’s wrong? I thought –  I hoped  –  No. What’s the matter?”

“Oh Jaime. Oh Jaime. I’m sorry. I’m going to Samoa.”

“What? Why? Hang on. I’ll come too.”

“No. Jaime. Jaime, there’ve been things happening. It was fast, but I should have told you. I’m getting married.”

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