I take a drag, the nicotine hit combined with the rush of seeing you again proving a heady concoction. My legs twitch with such an urgency to run that I fear they’ll carry me down the hill, unbidden, towards you. I force myself to remain seated, hidden from view.
You’re smoking now too, leaning against our tree, our connection as natural as thunder and lightning. I can’t believe you’re there. In the place we said we’d meet in twenty years’ time if things hadn’t worked out.
I close my eyes and I’m back there, smoke mingling with the smell of bins as I crouched, puffing at my cigarette, neck craned to check Max hadn’t followed me. My little secret. The other being my doubts about marrying him. Which was problematic because we were at the venue, booking our wedding.
“You too, huh?”
And there you were, the hotel’s logo emblazoned across your shirt, eyes meeting mine through the flame of your lighter. You inhaled, drawing me in with the smoke, then sat beside me.
“You scared me!” I said.
You grinned and blew two smoke rings into the air like wedding bands, slowly fading away.
“I always sneak out here on my break,” you said eventually. “No-one knows I smoke.”
I stubbed my cigarette out on the concrete. “Same. My fiancé would explode if he knew.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Secrets already? Doesn’t bode well. I’m Eddie.”
You held out your hand.
“Louise,” I said, taking it. My hand continued to buzz long after we’d let go.
Then without warning, you jumped up and pulled me to my feet, cigarette dangling from your lips. “Let’s get out of here!”
“What? I’m booking my wedding. You’re working. We can’t!” I laughed the last word and we broke into a run, down the hill towards that tree you’re under now. I’d never felt freer. And as we sat, smoking and talking, I wished you could make the life I’d set out for myself disappear like smoke.
I made some excuse about getting lost. Max was angry. He always was. I’d convinced myself that it was my fault. If I could just be better, just try harder, just…
Soon I had another guilty secret. You. A year of cigarette breaks from reality beneath that tree. Best moments of my life.
“Don’t do it,” you said that morning as we said goodbye. My wedding morning, twenty years ago today.
But I was too afraid.
Max didn’t get any less angry. They never do. I understand that now, years of therapy later. I stalked you on Facebook after I left him, of course. You looked happy with your family.
Why have you come? I’d only ruin your life.
I stand to take the last drag of my cigarette, just as your head turns. I freeze.
Your voice carries up the hill. “Louise!”
You start running.
I blow two smoke rings into the air. They’ll be gone before you get here. As will I.
I run.
