I nodded, understanding the need for her to leave but wanting desperately for her to stay. Our eyes met for a moment and volumes of timeless words passed between us. I was sorry. I was so very, very sorry and a part of me wanted to get on my knees and scream it at her feet. She turned, paused and reached into her brown purse and pulled out a card. “Give me a call. Maybe we can do lunch,” she said, visibly conflicted as to why she was doing it. I put her card in my pants pocket and grabbed a discarded piece of receipt paper, jotting down my cell. “Just let me know when,” I said throwing the ball in her court. “Okay,” she said, taking the paper. Our fingers touched, sending sparks into me. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her as she turned and walked away. *** That evening, I replayed my relationship with Kerry over and over again in my head. The good, the extremely bad and all the in-between. I remembered her wrapped in a blanket on my bed, her eyes lighting up when I sat beside her and the feel of her soft hand sneaking up my back to wrap me in her embrace. I missed how she made me feel like I was so much more than I was. Like I was better than the mediocre life I always felt was inevitable.
