On Friday afternoon just after three, I found her alone at a table overlooking the quiet bay. The restaurant was empty except for her slender figure outside. She wore a white long-sleeved blouse with jeans and white sneekers, her wavy hair, now longer, playing in the slight breeze.
The sunlight was caught in her glass of Chenin Blanc. She seemed at peace and lost in thought. I watched her for a while, taking in the serenity of her in the scene. She was as breathtaking as ever.
âWhere are the others?â I said, standing next to her. âVisiting the family at the Cape.â She paused, then continued, âYou shouldnât be here.â I ran my right hand lightly across her bare neck as I passed her to get a chair and sat next to her, also facing the ocean. She was silent, and it was like the air between us had caught fire. The silence and the fire continued. The waves rushed lazily into the small bay and then withdrew, looking over their shoulders at the two of us. They seem to know we werenât allowed.
I asked, âWhy did you call me from his phone, two years ago?â She was ready with an answer, âYou did not want to back off. It worked, until today.â The silence returned. âSo itâs over for you?â I enquired, knowing what she would say. She looked at me, softly, and after half a minute said, âIt has to be.â
We held each otherâs gaze once more like we used to and I studied her face. It was all there, every magnificent feature. Her mouth corners still spoke without making a sound. When we made eye contact, I could feel the swell of Atlantic tide rise in my chest. It was all still there.
âYour granny is right, youâre just getting more beautiful by the day.â Finally, a smile. âYou remembered?â âI do, and how it made you smile then.â I paused. âLike when you asked whether you were âsafeâ with me. It was the first time I could feel your body speaking to me.â She blushed. âYou make me sound like a flirt!â I shook my head. âYou were never that obvious, except when you brought me to my knees with those eyes.â She smiled and looked away.
Then I said, âI still wish it was mine.â She laughed and dropped her head, shaking it. Then we both fell silent. We watched the waves watching us. We watched the sun setting over our running into each other. She grew serious and looked me searchingly. Then spoke softly, âIn a way, it is.â Her hand reached and rested on my knee. As I moved to put my hand on hers, she reached for her bag, got up and left. Again, I watched her leave, following each small, elegant movement of that fiery little body, until she was out of sight.















