Ella opened the blinds and smiled at the mid-morning sun. Joy erupted within like a geyser.
Last night was special. The first shared look, the conversation throughout the night where many commonalities revealed themselves like little advent gifts, and then the exchange of phone numbers with a promise to meet for coffee later.
So dizzying, so thrilling. How long had Ella waited while other friends slipped away into the starry night of marriage?
Could this be the one? Definitely maybe.
The ringtone doused her school-girlish glee and fluffed a more sedate and mature hope.
He wakes and softly chuckles at the sight of her: hair in disarray, baggy eyes, mouth agape and drool because her teeth are in a glass on the bathroom counter. This is the woman he married 35 years ago.
They’d lived together longer than they’d lived at home with their parents and siblings. Almost a lifetime together. There were more years to come.
He paused. They’d separated once. Had grown apart in the early days of raising a family. How did they fall away from each other, how did they come back together?