Now, on the sunlit quay, she saw that he looked older, harder.
New lines at eyes and mouth. Grey strands watermarking his dark wavy hair.
His once beautiful hands scarred and dirty.
She knew she too had aged, her body thicker and less firm, the shine of her youth lost in waiting.
He could do better. He deserved better.
Stopping before her, not touching, he drank her in.
Her body ached with need. His callused hand against her face flooded her with lust.
“Remember me?” he said.