“I’m here.” the simple text read.
Mr. Past and I had agreed that he would message me when he was at the hospital so I could slip out and meet him without disturbing my grandmother. My heart skipped a bit. He was here.
“Grandmother,” I whispered in her ear, “I’m stepping out to get a quick bite. Will you be okay with the nurses to check on you?”
She nodded and dozed back off. With a quick check of my appearance in the institutional-looking mirror I evaluated my reflection. A tight black long sleeved workout-shirt topped tight black leggings that were tucked into brown riding boots. Nothing about my shape was left to the imagination.
I left the room quietly and rounded the corner, looking for Mr. Past. I didn’t have to wait long. He came down the hallway, a vision of all-American good-looking man. Long, lean legs were encased in jeans that hugged him just the right way. A fitted half-zip fleece showed off his broad shoulders and narrow waist. His hair, longer than it’s ever been, was swept to the side giving him a sexy air I wasn’t accustomed to. He had never looked so good.
We closed the distance to each other and in moments I was in a tight embrace. His arms held me tight while his hands ran up and down my back. His lips pressed tenderly against my forehead. We stayed like that for several minutes before breaking apart and going down the elevator to the main lobby. Inside the elevator he liberally groped my ass while I enjoyed marveling at the man he has worked so hard to become.
Downstairs in the almost empty lobby we sat, our clasped hands resting on his thigh, talking candidly. Talking as we haven’t been able to do in person for years. He shared about the frustrations he has in his marriage. And I about how well things are going with Nathan. Yet there I was, wanting him just like old times. Mr. Past knows me though. He knows my fickle nature. He expects my flashes passion that cool without warning only to flare back up hotter than ever. And he loves me in spite of that.
I gradually became aware of how close we were sitting. How intimate our body language was. How his thumb was tracing gentle circle inside my palm. And of his occasional glancing around. “Are we okay like this?” I asked.
“I’m just watching…” he trailed off. But I knew what he meant. It’s not a big town. He could be seen and that could mean trouble for him.
“We could go to your car,” I suggested.
“It would definitely be more private,” he said with a suggestive smile.
We rose together and walked out into the cold night, hand in hand.