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.

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”.

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.

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.

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.

A lustful encounter that went a bit too far. Not exactly the way it was supposed to turn out. Accidents happen and sometimes they’re fun. A page in your book that you can now turn over.

Giving yourself to him was not worth forsaking your morals. You made it clear you are no longer friends and will no longer talk. Drastic measures to protect yourself. If only he had a chance to say goodbye.

Remember when we stayed up all night in your car. I looked into your eyes and saw my future. The scent of your hair is where I could get lost forever.  The sound of your breath is no longer there when I sleep.

If I could go back in time, there are things I would change. If I could go back in time, there are things that I wouldn’t. Now I sit here and write this and stare at a picture of you. If only I could change the decision you’ve made.

His legs cross over each other with one resting on the other’s knee, his arm hanging over the back of the chair as he watches her with intrigue. She takes the cigarette away from her lips and stretches her jaw open. A thick, white, plume of smoke pours out of her mouth, up and over her lip. She takes a quick, deep breath and the smoke disappears deep, down into the lungs behind her beautiful breasts.

He sits there silently, observing her closely and taking one last gulp from his vintage shiraz. She exhales, slowly. Her lips purse together to concentrate a thin, white stream of toxic, tobacco smoke. Her eyes close halfway, mainly to avoid smoke in her eyes, but also to help her savour the moment.

She extinguishes the cigarette in the deep, crystal ashtray. He watches her push the glowing, orange embers against the sparkling crystal surface. Once the cigarette is crushed, he looks back up at her face and slowly puts his glass on the table. She blows any remaining smoke out and over her left shoulder then looks at him looking at her. She stares deep into his eyes without saying a word.

A long, calm silence holds as their eye contact continues. She moves her index and middle slowly along the side of her forehead pushing her rich, brown fringe to the side of her face. She leans back in her chair and mirrors his posture. ‘So’, she says with a confident cadence. ‘Shall we go back to my place?’