Days later, he calls. Wants to meet.
Arms folded, heart guarded, I agree to listen. His demeanor sincere- eyes filled with tears. There’s an honest, heartfelt apology. Cockiness gone. No games. It’s real.
A gentle hand upon my face. A passionate kiss. There’s a pleading in the way he holds me. My lips respond.
“Have dinner with me,” he asks. My favorite dessert already set out.
I step into our bedroom, place my still packed suitcase in the closet- and join him at the table.