The cold air from the refrigerator crept up my knees and I pulled my breath sharply. I tiptoed to ease the pain and he held me by my waist tighter. He bowed his head to my right, kissed my ear, and lightly rubbed his lips on the side of my neck to my shoulders.
“You still owe me a kiss,” he whispered to my ears.
My lips quivered and my eyes swelled. I could smell his perfume back in college. His hair was the same soft hair I used to run my hand into.
I pulled away and held his face in my hands. I kissed his left cheek, then right, last his nose. My nose congested and I realized I was crying. He pulled away from me and pulled a handkerchief to wipe them away, but it just cascaded down. His hands came to my cheeks, and he kissed me.
All those time we’ve been together; our first date, our first trek together, the corgi we adopted, our camping by the beach. He was a neuro-something doctor, I think. What was his name?
“What’s your name?” I asked. The cold air from the refrigerator crept up my knees and I pulled my breath sharply. There are two sets of plates, utensils and candles on the kitchen island, and there was a mellow song coming from somewhere.
There was a man in front of me and we were close, really close. I pulled away and distanced myself. Why is he crying?
My eyes grew large, “Xander, why are you crying?” He only shook his head and kissed my forehead. What just happened?