Seeing her was not part of the plan, but there she was.

Emerald eyes sparkling, strawberry lips smiling, she came down the stairs. She came to me like Spring, like a sunny day after months of wind and rain. I could not turn and walk away.

“Borislav, what are you doing here?” She asked before kissing me on the cheek.

She was dressed for romance; I was dressed for a funeral.

“Did you come back for me?” She added jokingly, after kissing me.

I had not come back for her or for anyone, but I said “yes.”

“You are inviting me for a cup of coffee, I suppose. I would love to catch up with you.”

“Why not,” I replied, “but I have to see Anton first.”

“So you are the one he is expecting.”

“Yes. Is he in his office?”

“Yes, he is.”

She looked into my eyes, probably wondering what I was really doing there. Then she kissed my other cheek.

“Go now,” she added, “but don’t be long. I will wait for you outside… I will wait for you in the cold.”

***

This piece was first published on Volkov Is Thinking, under the pseudonym “Borislav Volkov”