The longing is the hardest part
“Do you want to talk to her?" said Irene, who was a friend of my former lover.
“Of course I do," I replied, as we sat there in the hotel lobby with mutual friends.
“She just arrived from the airport. I don’t know if she feels up to coming down to the lobby."
“I’m happy to wait."
She left and walked to the elevators, while I sat and wondered how quickly time had passed, at how my former lover had decided to come back to the big city from overseas, and back to where all of us were staying. My emotions overwhelmed me as I realized how much I missed her.
Somebody played video games nearby and the soft sounds seemed to echo loudly in the quiet room.
I grabbed a pool stick and tried to concentrate on my next shot, but it was useless.
The seconds passed and I wondered if she still felt the same way that I felt for her.
I walked across the room to watch the stairs. In a moment I saw her bounce down the last steps and her beautiful black skirt made me smile. It didn’t take me long to run to her.
“Did you miss me?" she asked.
“Quite a lot," I answered as I took her hand in mine and we walked outside into the warm Los Angeles night, where the neon hotel lights seemed to pull us back into our romance, and we picked up where we left off.