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While I know he couldn’t be less interested in me, he still turns on this flirtatious charm, he can’t help himself, and I’m nauseated with myself for responding to it. It’s like when the musical score in a movie makes you cry, and you know you’re being manipulated by the sound edit, but you still can’t stop the swell of emotion.
“That draw, like gravity, like the kiss is inevitable,”
This delicious feeling envelops me, like a witch picking up a long-lost wand. I am still capable of this—of flirting, of wanting someone, of being wanted, of being someone other than an ex-wife and a mother.
“I’m your classic middle child—the diplomat, forever trying to keep everyone happy. Maybe I would have been more ambitious if I’d been the oldest.”
“For me, falling in love feels like gazing up at a dark sky. First, there is nothing but blackness, then gradually your eyes adjust, a few stars come into view, then suddenly, you see everything—thousands of stars, an infinite spectrum of light. It’s mind-blowing. Falling out of love feels the same but in reverse. One by one the stars recede, gray clouds sweep in. Then one day you realize you are alone in the dark, there’s nothing out there.”
“She used to remember all our little food preferences. Like how Simon loved Red Leicester, whereas I preferred Cheddar, or I’d eat the salami with the pepper around it, but Harry wouldn’t touch it. Every packed lunch she made was this little act of love and remembering.” He hands me my roll. “After she died, Dad made the same packed lunch for everyone. We ate what we were given.”
“Ah, enemies to lovers, my favorite trope.”
“Don’t let life make you hard, Anna. It’s the soft, gooey middle that makes it all so delightful.”
Even if I’m too late, even if he doesn’t call, I still needed to say it. Because true love does not cower in the shadows; it roars, loud and proud, until it has given its all.
