I checked my image in the mirror yet again.  Four changes of clothing and I still wasn’t happy with the result; the skirt and blouse combination I was currently wearing looked old and frumpy.  Definitely not the look I was going for, although truthfully I wasn’t really sure what look I wanted to project tonight.  A quick glance at the clock showed me that time was running very short; I had very little time left to make a decision. 

​

Finally I threw off the skirt and blouse and changed into my black, strapless dress.  It fell to mid-thigh and hugged all my curves beautifully.  I had no intentions of sleeping with him but that was no reason not to look sexy and confident.  The image I saw in the mirror showed a woman who seemed calm, controlled, confident and sexy as hell.  That’s not really how I felt but I had always had a talent for hiding my inner turmoil from people; well, except for him.  He had always been able to see straight through me.  What would he make of the dress? 

​

Another glance at the clock showed me it was already ten minutes past six.  If the traffic was good I would just be able to make the restaurant on time.  I took another deep breath as I gave my make-up a final adjustment and sat down on the edge of the bed to put on my high-heeled strappy sandals.  A final look in the mirror and then I began gathering up my purse, keys and hurried out the door.  I didn’t want to look over eager but neither did I want to be late, not tonight.

​

The traffic wasn’t too bad and I arrived at the restaurant only five minutes late.  He was already there, seated at the bar and nursing a beer.  Judging from the beer he held he was either as nervous as I was or he had arrived early for our dinner date.  Either way it brought a smile to my face; it showed a genuine eagerness on his part. 

As I walked towards him I could feel my heart begin to beat faster.  I had almost forgotten how beautiful he was with his coal black hair and brilliant blue eyes.  He was wearing dress pants with his shirt, something he rarely did; normally he only ever wore jeans and I couldn’t remember having seen him in dress pants since our wedding day. 

​

I frowned slightly at that thought.  Tonight was not the time to be remembering our wedding day and how happy I had been.  How happy we had both been.  So much had happened since then, so much pain and so many betrayals.  Tonight I had to stay completely focused on the here and now; the past had to remain buried and dead. 

He stood up as I approached, his face lit up with his incredible smile.  We hugged awkwardly, both of us painfully aware of the strangeness of this situation.  As we walked to our table he placed one hand low on the small of my back, a familiar gesture from our time together.  For a moment I almost felt like crying but I also felt the old thrill I had always experienced at his touch.

​

Banal, meaningless chatter filled our time as we were seated, ordered the food and the wine.  It didn’t take long, however, for the flow of conversation to slowly grind to a halt.  How could we make chit chat after everything that had happened between us?  I think we both felt haunted by the memory of the last time we had seen each other and the dark and ugly things that had been said at that time.  Break-ups are always painful and ours had been no exception.  Things had been said that could not be unsaid, regardless of what we might want now.

​

“You really look stunning,” he said, breaking the awkward silence.

“Thanks, so do you,” I could think of no other reply.  Besides it was true, he had never looked better.

“Lucy, I...,” he was interrupted by the waiter bringing our drinks, another beer for him and a glass of red wine for me.  I accepted the glass eagerly and sipped the blood red wine a little too fast and noticed that my hand was shaking, just a little but more than I wanted him to see.

“Lucy,” he began again after a long pull on his beer, “I barely know where to begin.”

“Well, perhaps Pete you could start by telling me why you called, why you wanted to meet.”

​

e didn’t answer immediately.  He sat in silence, drinking his beer but never taking his eyes off my face.  His close scrutiny was beginning to unnerve me and I could feel the blush start on my chest and begin to flood upwards to my face.  I put down the wine glass, mortified to see that my hand was still obviously shaking.  He knew me so well; my turmoil would be obvious to him.  I was a grown woman, I should not be feeling this unsettled.  Why had he called, I asked myself for perhaps the hundredth time?  Just when I was beginning to put him behind me there had been his voice, out of the blue, asking me to have dinner with him.  Why had I even agreed to come?

​

I put my shaking hands in my lap so he would not see them.  I knew why I had come here tonight.  Why I was so nervous?  I was desperately hoping that he had asked me to dinner to suggest we get back together.  I had never stopped loving him, despite what he had done.  I had loved him from the beginning with a passion that was absolutely all consuming.  Even now that had not changed.  Then two years ago my world had shattered.  I had discovered his affair, not just one affair but it had turned out that he had indulged in many affairs during our years together.

​

I had been utterly devastated.  For weeks I had kept the knowledge to myself and then I had finally confronted him.  At least he had shown enough dignity and grace not to deny it.  It had been the first argument we had ever had in our entire relationship.  The first time bitter and angry words had passed between us.  It was a moment I could never forget.  He had packed his suitcase and left that night; undoubtedly into the arms of the other woman.  I had sat up and cried all that remained of the night, staring forlornly out of the window. 

           

He began to speak again, and he was saying all the words I had so desperately hoped that he would.  He was telling me how sorry he was, how he had made a terrible mistake.  He said that I meant more to him than life itself and he’d been a complete fool ever to jeopardize our relationship.  I let him talk, our meals arrived and still he talked while I remained silent.  I didn’t want to appear over eager or rush into the conversation too early.  His words sounded heartfelt, sincere, every fibre of his being seemed to be geared to convincing me that his affairs had never been anything more than simple meaningless mistakes.  I was the one true love of his life.

           

His conversation finally wound down as the waiter was clearing away our plates and then he asked me the question.  The question I had almost known he was going to ask from the moment he had first called.

“Lucy, would you take me back?  Can we give our marriage another chance?”

I didn’t answer immediately.  I took another sip of the sweet red wine while I savoured the moment, this moment that I had so longed for, dreamt and fantasised about.  Finally I replaced the glass on the table; pleased to note that now, at least, my hands had stopped shaking.

“No, Pete.  I had a feeling you were going to ask that.  Especially after I heard from some friends that your latest girlfriend kicked you out, just like the others before her.  You see I might still love you Pete, in a small way I probably always will.  You’re the father of my children.  But take you back?  No, that’s something that will never happen.  You see I’ve been seeing a wonderful man, a man who doesn’t lie and cheat.  But even if I wasn’t, even if I was completely alone, I still wouldn’t take you back.  You’re a cheat, a liar and so terribly, terribly transparent.  Thank you for the lovely meal Pete.  I hope you continue to have a thoroughly miserable life.”

With those words I got up and walked away.  I finally had the closure I had so longed for and now I could truly put the past behind me.  I couldn’t stop smiling as I walked out the door.