Two years apart and upon his return the reason he left seemed inconceivable. In those late hours of night he’d told himself it was easier to leave and begin anew in another country, a place where he would never see her face. What he hadn’t anticipated were the remembrance of dreams. The weeks passed until he found another woman, sweet and tender, to shuffle his hair in the morning.
But these dreams came in unforgivable waves, coercing the memories out of the darkness of his mind. He remembered everything. For three minutes, in the barely audible lull of birds chirping over the rooftops his other life was still alive and well. She was still calling him. His head rested on her lap as she flipped incessantly through the television channels.
A colossal distraction. Nothing more.
Now that they sleep in the same city again he cannot silence the primal urges. She is everywhere.
The morning dawned, autumnal winds shining the edges of the bedroom window with freshly crushed leaves and he awakens with a sour taste on his lips. The computer hummed and the screen delivered a message. An email with a single line reading: we’ll see each other soon. It twisted his stomach in knots. Even in the simplicity of her words he could still see a future that wasn’t there.
It never was.