Old Me

64 - I.F.L.Y.

His face lit up when he saw that it was me, and I smiled back. I took in his appearance. He wore a backwards cap, his glasses, and his facial hair had been trimmed down. He was wearing a pair of dark jeans with a fitted black tee that sculpted his abs and flannel over top with the sleeves rolled up to reveal his tattoos. He looked so good.

"Hi," I said, almost breathlessly. 

"Come in," he motioned, stepping aside. 

I slipped out of my shoes and he waited for me to finish before leading me into the house. 

"Did you change your hair?" he asked, looking back at me over his shoulder.

"Oh," I subconsciously touched it, "yeah. My cousin did it for me."

"It looks great. Suits your tan," he smiled, "You want anything? Have you eaten?"

"No," I shook my head, "thanks. I already ate. But I'll take a glass of water."

He nodded and motioned for me to take a seat at the table. I draped my purse over the back of the chair before pulling it out and taking a seat. I could smell his familiar cologne as he sat down in front of me and placed two glasses on the table.

"Thanks," I said, smiling up at him. 

I was starting to sweat with nerves. I didn't know exactly what to say. It was kind of awkward.

"So," he spoke breaking the silence, "how was your trip? You were in Italy right?"

"Uh, yeah," I nodded, "it was really great. It was nice to spend time with my family over there and catch up on all the current slang terms. My cousins over there are a little younger than I am."

He chuckled and took a sip from his water.

"What about you? What have you been doing?" I asked.

"Oh," he took a breath, "you know, work," he chuckled, "nothing nearly as exciting as you I'm sure."

I smiled and nodded. 

"It's good to see you," I said, taking in his green stare.

"You too."

"I'm sorry, this is awkward. Isn't it?" I asked, biting on my lower lip.

He chuckled, making me smile. God, I missed his laugh.

"Maybe a little. But I'm glad you came over," he smiled, "I...missed you."

I looked down at my glass of water, tracing the condensation with my finger, "Me too."

My heart was racing in my chest as the silence continued.

"So, I have a confession," I finally spoke, glancing up at him, "I still love you."

I watched as a moment of shock passed over his face before being replaced by a smile.

"I still love you, too," he finally said as he reached for my hand on the table.

I watched as we intertwined our fingers. His calloused fingertips squeezed me and my heart was skipping beats.

The doorbell rang, making me jump and separate our hands.

 He chuckled, "It's probably the plumber. Hold on."

He stood up from the table and I sighed in relief that the awkwardness had ended. I heard him talking to someone at the door for a while before he poked his head from around the mudroom.

"Hey, Bea, I'll be back shortly. I just need to show the plumber around outside. Feel free to make yourself at home," he smiled.

I took a sip of my water and walked around the kitchen. I smiled at the printed picture of us from my anniversary party that was on the fridge. I wondered when he had printed that. I finally ended up sitting on the sofa scrolling through my phone. I was startled by the sound of the slider opening behind me, and I quickly turned my head to find Michael entering the house.