She faced him
frankly, moments of their history whispering behind her
eyes. She faced him with courage, her head high, like a
warrior seasoned by battle. This too was a product of
their past. What once was fear and pain and passion had
been honed into something finer, a calm reserve. Curiosity
and expectation, and yes, temptation, had brought her
there. Something deeper had brought her there as well, but
she had become expert at holding it down, ignoring its persistent
voice. It ran through her now as a cherished melody and
she allowed herself to be pleased by the beauty it
retained in spite of everything. She watched him,
searching his eyes, face and stance for signs of changes
there as well.
She knew the eyes
but could not define what lurked in them. Experience had
changed the language they had once spoken to her so
fluently. New lines in the face told of old pain, and
fresh joy that had recently laughed much. The stance was
of a man now, more secure than the boy she had once known.
A stranger so familiar she held her breath stood before
her, regarding her as keenly as she did him. She was aware
that at least one thing had not changed. She was too aware
of him. She felt his presence as surely and deeply as she
felt the breath of life racing through her body. She knew
him, recognized him without question. She knew also that
this would never change. She could choose to accept
it. Or choose to walk away. Or choose a new choice.