Reunion

Reunion Part 11

Saturday rolls around way too soon and I have a knot in the pit of my stomach as I wait for Sonya to join me in our usual booth. She slides in across from me looking every bit the suburban soccer mom.

"What's wrong with you?" She doesn't mince words. I must look terrible. "I can understand looking worn out after a week of sex, but you should be looking happy, not like someone just died."

I groan and lay my forehead on the cool table. "He's leaving tomorrow."

"Yeah. And?"

I lift my head to look at her. "And what?"

"What's the plan?"

"There is no plan." I lower my head back to the table.

"Two of the smartest people I have ever known can't come up with a plan for how to be together? I don't buy it." She shakes her head and digs into the french fries.

I wince. "We haven't talked about it." I feel her eyes boring into the top of my head. I sit up and face her.

"The sex must be amazing," she says dryly, "if it doesn't leave any time for talking."

I laugh and blush. "Well it is...but we do talk. Just about other stuff."

"Are you seeing him tonight?"

"Yeah."

"And?" she asks expectantly.

"And what?"

"Lena!" she exclaims, leaning towards me over the table. "You are making me lose my temper!"

"I'm sorry," I squeak.

She lets out a long breath. "You have to tell him how you feel."

"What good would it do?" I drop back down, but she catches my face in her hands, forcing me to look at her.

"You cannot go another twenty years wondering 'what if?' You owe it to yourself and to him to tell him the truth." She lets go of my face and sits back in the booth with a stern expression.

Part of me knows she's right, but another part thinks it will just make saying goodbye to him that much harder.

. . . . .

I let myself in to Andy's hotel room that evening. He immediately pulls me into an embrace. It has been more than 24 hours since I've seen him, the longest we've gone since getting coffee last Sunday. It seems the separation felt just as long to him as it did to me. I feel so safe in his large arms, pulled against his warm, solid chest. He strokes my hair as I breathe in his fresh scent. This is my happy place.

"There's something I want to talk to you about," he says quietly, breaking the silence.

"Mmmmm?" I mumble into this chest. He brings his hands to my shoulders and separates us so he can see my face. His eyes are soft and warm. His expression sincere and vulnerable.

"Melanie," he starts. His serious tone grabs my attention and a spike of fear shoots through me. "I'm falling in lo..."

"Don't say it," I blurt out. He freezes. "This is going to be hard enough as it is."

His eyes narrow in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"You're leaving tomorrow," I explain. "This was just for a week. Casual." I force myself to shrug and step out of his arms.

"Just for a week? Casual?" His voice rises and his expression darkens. He runs a hand through his soft curls. "We aren't just fucking, Melanie. Unless..." he pauses, looking pained. "Is that all this has been to you?"