Part 3

Five years

It has been five years. Five years since I entered Nigel's celebratory party to see her shining eyes. Five years of drastic reinventions of well-known sobriquets as I strove to leave the past in the past while creating a memorable future. Five years of drowning in the memory of her face and the dulcet tones of her voice.

With a sigh I gaze at the New York skyline. That night could have ended in many ways. It was within my power to ostracize her, to exact revenge for daring to make me care. I could have allowed her to finish her stuttering apologies and explanations of why she had left me in Paris to fend for myself. Why she had left me alone. I could have simply walked away.

Gathering my thoughts and my belongings, I leave the office. The evening air caresses my face as I pace toward the town car. Glancing toward my left I see her. I see a broad smile cover her lovely visage and feel my lips curl in response. With a curt nod I enter the car.

Nigel had been regaling her with humorous anecdotes when I had entered the room. I had felt the air shift and the world fall away as our eyes had locked. Next to her mere moments later I had made an unprecedented decision. Conversing with everybody who was anybody I had worked the room without allowing her to leave my side. We did not speak directly beyond the customary greetings. It had not been necessary.

Sinking into the leather chair, I close my eyes briefly, remembering. Five years ago I had called for my car as I had stared into her eyes. Tendering my farewells I had left the party without a backward glance. Five years ago she had walked beside me into the brisk air. Five years ago she had walked into my home and into my arms. She has never left.

Turning my head I gaze into welcoming eyes. Leaning forward I cover those luscious lips gently with mine. Humming, I pull back gradually, pleased by how her eyes flutter open so slowly. We have no need for words. No uncertainty exists between us. We understand each other's feelings well. Without breaking our connection I murmur, "Home."