'It's you,' I say. 'Fuck me, it's really you.'
'So you've said,' Sarah answers dryly, flicking ash onto the street.
We're sitting outside a Starbucks. She has a caramel latte nestled in her left hand. I'm drinking whisky from a hip flask. The street is quiet. It's warm. The sky is orange.
'How long has it been?' I say.
'Twenty-three years.'
She hasn't changed. Not much, anyway. A few more lines on her face, but she still looks young. Her eyes are still dark. Mysterious. One of the reasons I was attracted to her.
'So, you found me in a photo?' She asks.
'Yep,' I say. 'I was taking pictures for the paper. When I was developing them, I saw you. I couldn't believe it. I've been coming back here for the last three days hoping I'd bump into you.'
'And now you have.'
'And now I have.'
She hates being here, I can tell. She refuses to look at me and instead looks out at the quiet street, taking deep drags of her cigarette. I can't blame her.
'I'm sorr - '
'Don't!' She snaps. 'I don't want to hear it. I only agreed to sit with you because there's something important I have to tell you. I should've told you years ago, but I was angry. I still am. How could you?'
There's always been two women in my life. My wife, who I hate. And Sarah, who I love. We were twenty-one. Both in love for the very first time. Then I fucked it up. I slept with my now wife behind Sarah's back. She found out. Crumbled like a withered flower, and I've been broken ever since.
I got my wife pregnant. Been with her ever since. For my son. He's fat and ginger and plays video games all day. I'm not even sure if he's mine.
But, for the past six months, there's been another, much younger woman. Her name's Honey, and she's an escort. Found her online. Blonde. Milky skin. Blue eyes. Sweet tasting pink nipples. She always wears white. She knows I'm married. She knows I visit her because I'm married.
I fucked that one up also. Told her I love her one night. I was lying on her bed smoking a cigarette, she was cleaning herself off in the bathroom.
'You should leave,' she told me.
That was four weeks ago, and I haven't seen her since.
That's what I do, I fuck up. I cheated on my wife. I broke Sarah's heart, and I've pushed away the only woman who let me fuck her in the arse.
Now I'm here, sitting with my one true love, and she doesn't want me. She takes a huge drag of her cigarette before speaking. Her voice trembles.
'We had a child. A daughter.'
She digs into her bag, pulls out a photo. I take it in my hand, my heart pounding. On the back it reads: Abbey's Graduation.
I flip it over and she's there, wearing the gown and the square hat. My daughter. Blonde hair and blue eyes. Milky skin. The world tips. The whisky comes rushing back.
It's Honey.
