Leaving Him in Seven Days
Our old villa had long been auctioned off, so we moved into a modest house in the suburbs.
The day Rory came to visit, a light rain misted the air. He stood at the gate with a black umbrella, the drizzle weaving a translucent curtain between us.
My mind flashed back to the first time we met. His striking presence had made him stand out in the crowd.
Now time had softened his sharp edges. He was much thinner, and his once-dazzling aura was gone.
Seeing him again didn't stir the wild heartbeat I used to feel. I stood under the eaves, hands in my pockets, and asked casually, "What brings you here, Mr. Lawson?"