She's Learned

She's Learned

Evelyn Beatrice Bourne

In the lazy Sunday afternoon sunshine she sat in a grassy park contemplating her life. The thought of going home to another dinner alone was not appealing. Then the brightness of his white teeth and the sparkle of his hazel eyes blocked the sun momentarily. “May I join you?” He inquired even as he was already lowering his lanky frame to the ground. Hands extended. Introductions exchanged. Polite conversation ensued. An easy rapport developed between them and they began to feel oddly comfortable right away.


The sun began its slow descent. The evening breeze chilled her. She began to rise to say goodbye and he rose to join her. Each one extended a hand as a spark of electricity seemed to pass between them and he held on for just a moment too long. As she pulled her hand away memories of heartbreak and pain and betrayal and deception washed over her even as she noticed the slim tan line on the ring finger of his left hand. Politely declining his invitation meet later, she swallowed hard, and headed home leaving him there. As she walked away, a silent tear escaped, but she kept walking not daring to look back.