Closing Time

"How are you?"

The question seemed to jolt her into her senses. How was she, really? She thought two weeks away from him would make her okay. But those two weeks seemed like a far-off dream, when his hand was stroking her hand and his soft, almost penitent brown eyes were locked with hers.

"I want to say I'm okay, but I don't think I am," she admitted, as she lowered her eyes to their intertwined hands. Could we stay like this forever?

To her surprise, he whispered, “Me, too. I miss you.”

Somehow, they both felt that words were too superfluous at that moment. With his free hand, he cupped her face and kissed her on the lips. Not the eager, passionate type that they were used to, but a gentle, sweet one, as if she was some delicate little thing that he was too afraid to break.

As she closed her eyes, she could not stop the tears from falling. She was wrong. Two weeks, two months, two years apart from him–it would all be the same. She would never be ready to let him go. Her hand tightened on his grip. Please, stay. Don’t leave me.

As they broke their kiss, he once again looked her into the eyes and, as if sensing her thoughts, said, "You know that if things were different, it would be you."

And just like that, she remembered why they couldn't be together in the first place. She was too late. If only they had met earlier, if only he met her first. How things would have been different if only he loved her first.

"I know," she said. Their hands held on to each other tighter, but it was all they could do to keep each other from slipping away.

Word count: 300 words