Slowly, her eyelids flickered open and she sat up groggily, entangling herself from his embrace. All around her it was pitch-black, still a balmy, dark night. She glanced out of the window, and saw a vast, placid body of water. How did she get there? She wondered.
She glanced around the room. There was a wooden door, a dresser, a mirror. And, of course, the bed she was lying on. She caught sight of clothes strewn all over the floor: a long white evening gown, a shirt with buttons down the front and dark brown pants. She could feel a presence beside her, and, quite afraid, she turned around with great trepidation. When she saw Indiana Jones in deep slumber beside her, memories flooded back, and she smiled. At least to him, she wasn't just a one-night-stand...
She wondered if he knew that she had always loved him. Even after they broke up, she had 'kept in touch' with him. She had asked her father, and Marcus Brody, to know what he was doing, how his life was going. Marcus gladly obliged each time, but thankfully, did not tell Indy. She knew Marcus was another one of those people who staunchly believed that they wee meant for each other.
She wondered if Indy believed in that too. Then, she thought, probably not. Why would he sleep with another woman then, in Lima, Peru? She wondered if he knew how much hurt that had caused her. They had been going out for four years, if she was not mistaken, and he had to, he just had to do that. She had been so depressed, so upset, and had even contemplated suicide. But in the end, she stayed strong. After all, she was only twenty-two then, and she was doing exceptionally well at Harvard Law School. She could still find another boyfriend, but first, she had to let go. Let go of Indy, and the memories that haunted her.
She wondered if he knew that she couldn't let go, no matter how hard she tried. Each time she saw the picture of them framed and hung up on the wall, each time she looked in the mirror and saw the heart-shaped pendant tht rested on her collarbone, she would remember. Those periods of happy memories always brought with them a maelstrom of conflicting emotions; grief, nostalgia, love, happiness were only some of them.
She wondered if he, like her had a completely ruined love life after that; if he, like her, had sometimes resorted to kissing some random person from the bar just to forget her.
He was her first true love, and her last so far. Was she his? Or did he find another woman that drew him to her like the tide to the moon?
She remembered the time they first kissed, the time they went to the prom together, the time he had dinner over at her house. Every moment spent in his company was engraved in her mind, leaving behind an indelible stain. She wondered if he remembered all that as vividly as she did, or were they all instantly deleted when he saw another woman?
She had always been strong, she knew that. She had gone to Kathmandu, Nepal, with her father, thinking that she could open her own law firm there and earn big bucks( that was what she wanted last time). But over there, the man at the ministry stared at her blankly while she carefully enunciated, "I want to open my own law firm", not seeming to comprehend her at all. In the end, an old man she met on the street told her that even if she managed to open a law firm, she wouldn't be able to get any lawyers to join it, simply because there were none. But she didn't give up. She had waited with incredible patience for her father to finish with his business there and bring her back to America. But when faced with relationship problems, she wasn't strong at all. She wondered if he woke up in the middle of the night occasionally, calling her name, just like she had called his; if she played the leading role in his dreams, like he did.
Most of all, she wondered if he still loved her.
Marion stared at his unruly dark hair falling over hs forehead, the eyelids she knew hid hazel, loving eyes, his arms circled around her waist, pulling her close to him, and she wondered.