I walk out of my sister’s new house smiling. It’s so good to see the place finished and even better to see her happy. She has had no end of trouble with cracked plaster, unreliable workmen and a broken boiler. Now, walls are silky smooth and painted in warm pastels. The new flooring is imminent and there will be a housewarming before long.
As I turn to wave goodbye to my beautiful niece who is giggling in the arms of my sister, I catch sight of the dark blue car parked behind mine. Whilst my eyes are looking at the childish glee of a two year old blowing kisses, my mind is processing what I have just seen.
It’s him. My stomach flips. I walk down the path but my head is racing. I barely register the close of the door behind me. He is in the driver’s seat, hands still on the wheel although the engine isn’t on. He’s staring in front of him. His attention is caught by my movement and he moves quickly to open the car door.
At this point I am stood by my own car, keys in hand. I smile at him. Some thing is clearly wrong: he seems preoccupied.
He closes his door and looks at me.
“Hello, ” I reply.
Before I can say any more he is striding over to me, only stopping when he is stood right in front of me. He reaches out for my hand and I give it willingly.
He pulls me close and, looking into my eyes for a brief second, pulls me the final short distance so that he can kiss me.
The kiss is intense, slow and sensuous. My head is reeling.
He pulls away but we are so close that I can feel his warmth.
“I saw your car and I had to stop. I just needed to see you. To see your face.”
I smile but am not sure how to reply.
“I miss you when you are not there. I want to be with you. Do you want to be with me still?”
I nod slowly and he pulls me in for another kiss.