Retail therapy
The doorman sees his approach and opens the door. He has that ooze of charm and he enters the boutique. A slight nod and thank you as he unbuttons his jacket. He takes 4 steps in and stops, scans the room slowly and inhales his surroundings. He smells leather, cashmere and rich musk perfumes. The beige and brown interior provide contrast against his dark navy suit and his crimson red tie adds fullness to his lips. An assistant approaches.
“Welcome, sir. Is there anything I can help you with?”. He looks at her and smiles then goes on to say that he’s looking for what’s new in stock. “Please, follow me”, she says and turns on her heel heading to the rear of the boutique. He can’t help but notice her slim legs, wrapped in sheer black stockings and how her uniform skirt hugs her figure making her look taller than she already is. She stops and turns, displaying the products to her left. She describes the new range, but he’s more interested in her delicate neck that’s exposed as her head’s turned towards the shelf. She knows he’s looking and she’s glad he is. She also knows he’s married, she saw the ring when he adjusted his tie. But what’s a bit of fun if it gets you a sale?
She compliments his suit as she reaches out and rolls his lapel between her finger and thumb. Any excuse for her to get nearer. He’s flattered but appears blaze. He gets it often, both of them know it. They’ve covered the whole floor and looked at almost every product. It looks like no business will be done today, just light conversation and flirting. Their non-verbal language speaks so loud. Others in the store are well aware of this, including staff. She realises she’d better get back to work. If only she could get paid to do this.
She walks over to the counter, her hips swinging enough to make him notice. “Before you leave….” she says without ending the sentence. She writes her personal number on the back of her business card. Looking straight in his eyes she slips it into his pocket. She knows he’s married, he probably won’t even call. But she just wants him to know that he’s still got it.
The prettiest dresses
The prettiest dresses are worn to be taken off.
- Jean Cocteau
Add me
He moves the cursor over the search bar and clicks. It flashes continuously, prompting for action. Slowly, he types in her name then waits. Nothing will happen unless he commits. He’s apprehensive, scared to press enter. He doesn’t know what results he’ll receive and doesn’t know whether he wants to find out. It’s something that he’s always like to keep a mystery.
It’s been years since they dated but he can still remember her clearly. The freckles on her nose, her long black hair, her penchant for food and sincere demeanour. He remembers it all, he’ll probably never forget.
She was the girl he’d never thought he could get, but he did. They were happy, you could almost say they were in love but it ended abruptly. Their lives took a turn into different directions. He takes a deep breath and presses enter. She’s the first result.
Add as a friend? Her gorgeous smile exactly how he remembers it stares at him through her profile picture. His heart skips a beat and a chill resonates down the nerves in his spine. He clicks “add as friend” and his chest gets heavy as if he wanted to do it but did it by accident. Luckily, a second prompt appears and he stares at it for what could only be measured in breaths. He looks at the prompt and then back at her face and then back at the prompt. He clicks cancel and sighs. Now is not the time for him to be reliving sentimental memores.
misery loves company
As she exits her car and crosses the carpark, she scans the area for someone she knows. She feels awkward, it’s been 10 long years. Are people the same as they were in high school? Does that guy still have a crush on her and will he be here tonight? She tries to predict how the night will play out and is already questioning whether if this may be mistake.
She heads straight to the bar, weaving through a crowd of people. She hopes no one will notice her but also hopes some will. She hasn’t changed much of her looks so she should be easy to recognize. She’s been spotted. It’s one of her close girlfriends from school that she hasn’t spoken to in years. She’s married now with another child on the way yet she still has a glass of wine in her hand. There must be some truth in the saying “some people never change”.
The conversation dulls and she needs an excuse to withdraw. She politely excuses herself as she spots the person that she was hoping would be here. He’s still as handsome as she remembers and the suit he’s wearing transforms the boy in her memories into the man that’s before her. He sees her and smiles. It’s not the over-reaction that she was expecting but that fact that he recognizes her is more than enough.
The banter between them is as if they were living 10 years ago. The episode of their lives is picked up exactly where they left it. She even tilts her head back as she laughs at his jokes. Her eyes scan up and down his masculine physique every time he looks away when he pauses. She’s salivating over him and isn’t trying too hard to disguise it. He picks up on her signals but chooses to dismiss them. Maybe she needs to try harder.
All cards are on the table now. She’s had a bit too much wine and is using that as an excuse to fall into his arms. She wants to get a taste of his scent and even a grab of his arms. You can tell by the look on his face he’s feeling a bit uncomfortable. She’s an attractive woman but this isn’t a place he’d like to be.
Before she gets a chance to stumble again his phone rings in his pocket. “It’s my wife” he says, “I’m going to have to take this”. She feels herself suddenly sober up and her heart sink to her stomach. She breathes sharply in through her nose and her jaw clenches tight. What she feared would happen tonight has just happened. She’ll be leaving the reunion exactly how she arrived. Alone.
Forget special ringtones
Zero, Four, Zero, Five…
He dials her number into the keypad of his phone. Her number is saved, it’s even assigned to speed dial. I guess he just likes to enter it manually as a part of the process, like cutting a line and rolling up notes. The anticipation of whether she’ll answer or not excites him. His caller ID is visible so she’ll know it’s him. He paces back and forth and taps a finger against his leg. He presses call. It initiates.
The conversation she’s having is interrupted by vibration and polyphonic. She turns to her friend and excuses herself. The tone in her voice instantly changes to assert a seductive intonation.
“Hi there”, she says with a smitten riddled grin.
He can almost feel her sexual appetite ooze through the phone and slap him in the face. Her friend looks on, shocked yet puzzled. She simply looks at her and stretches a smirk across her face. Her friend can’t help but eavesdrop.
By the time the phone call’s finished he’s almost gasping for breath like a puppy dog begging to be given a treat.
Her friend curiously asks “Do you always talk to people like that?”.
“No”, she replies. “But this one fucks me like no one else can”.
call all in
The invisible border that separates them usually gets crossed. He’s tried hard to detach but somehow keeps coming back. He knows nothing will come of the bond that they hold. They’re friends now, there’s no way they’ll go back. She can’t do it again, the ups and the downs. It’s just not stable enough. There is no guarantee. Every time they make contact he can’t help but remember. Reminisce of their moments, their emotional treasures. He wants to move on, and so does she but he still holds on to that hope that they’ll someday be together. He needs to cleanse all of his thoughts and remove all temptation. These seeds grow in his head and escalate into needs. An ultimatum arises, he’s losing his mind. She’s either in his life as everything, or out of it, forever.
Happy Birthday to you
The memories of you are still so strong and surreal. They’ll stay with me forever because I’ll never forget. My hands fit perfect around your tight, little waist. My fingers can glide up the length of your legs. When I bury my face in your neck, all I can smell is a woman. When I pull you in close I can’t hold back excitement. I remember the time when I took you on the wardrobe floor. I left marks on your hips when I forced you in close. You looked over your shoulder and gave me a devious smile. My mental photography kept this fresh in its album. If there was one more night, I can’t explain what I’d do. Even thinking of this can cause major distraction. I get lost in the curves when I caress your skin. The hairs on my neck stand when you whisper my name. I’ll never forget you, you are hard to forget. Happy Birthday, You. You’d be the ultimate present.
over and over
He sits there silently, staring blankly at the scenery. His face rests against his palm, with his elbow resting on the window sill. Occasionally he’ll come to attention and observe a house the train passes, but once it’s out of sight he’ll continue to think his thoughts.
He knows that his time is over and all that remain are thoughts. Somewhat vivid memories that get played over and over again. His thoughts relive the sweet, floral scent of her hair. He remembers times they kissed and wandered through the park at night. This is all that’s left for him and they will never fade.
Sometimes he’s glad that all that happened is over. Sometimes he wishes he could go back to and do it all over again. But is return on investment worth the emotional deposit? Is it love grown from lust, or love grown from love? Regardless of the troubles that still somehow plague his mind, he still thinks of his ex and all the good things that she is.
cover yourself
When you first said those three words he was a bit overwhelmed. A bit taken back but was trying hard not to offend. He appreciated the sentiment but found it hard to reciprocate. It’s not something that can be taken lightly after only three months of dating.
I’m sure that you’d meant it and I’m sure he felt special but is it something you meant, maybe it was too a bit early? In another life, in another time maybe it could have worked. Unfortunately though, like a lot of things in life, it was just the wrong time.
It’s not wrong to dream and hope for a fairytale ending. It’s nothing to be ashamed of, it’s just the nature of women. I guess this is an experience and hopefully there’s a lesson to be learnt. Emotions can take control over rationality and logic and you can experience feelings that rush over your senses. You say things and do things due to the passion and love.
Please be careful though, as it sometimes cannot be fair. Not fair for you, and not fair for him. Giving yourself too early and making him feel obliged to receive. Just be a bit more cautious next time. It’s easy to fall in love, just don’t fall in love too easily.
accept defeat
Between awkward silence they’ll mutter a one word sentence. Eye contact’s avoided as they stare at the floor. Radio and engine, bother turned off. As the light of the sun sets over the trees, so do hopes of ever working this out.
It’s far too late for either of them to say they’re sorry. It’s far too late for either of them to turn back. The realization of the romantic demise causes a stray tear to glide down the side of her face. He’d usually provide comfort, but now he doesn’t know what to do.
A faithless attempt to lighten the mood fails. She looks out the window and to the door of her house. She looks back at him and holds his hand. She then kisses him with a kiss that can only mean goodbye.
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