He SMS’ed to ask if we could meet for coffee. I thought he wanted something else…
I thought he wanted to give us another try. After several long, silent years apart, a glimmer of hope shone between the dark clouds that made up my post-divorce life. Flashbacks of his sweet smile lingered on my mind while I raided my wardrobe for the perfect casual, yet not-too-casual, outfit that afternoon.
As I modeled in front of the mirror in a navy blue dress with a plunging neckline, I assessed my figure. Years of stress reduced me to a size 30. I girlishly giggled with excitement – I was ready to WOW him.
He arrived forty minutes late. His first spoken words to me, in over five years, was an apology : “Sorry I’m late. Nina – my wife – needed to use the van in the last minute…”
The rest was a blur.
I fought back tears. And forced a smile.
[Note: fictional piece]