I couldn't stop thinking about Clara—over and over again.
Not my wife. Not my wife, but Clara. Even after hearing everything she had told me, I still felt the overwhelming urge to be close to her, to feel her warmth against me. They say what occupies your subconscious will eventually manifest in reality, and that was precisely what was happening to me.
My thoughts spiraled until I finally saw her again.
"So when will it be ready?" I asked.
"Tomorrow should be fine, later in the evening, though."
"Oh, okay. That works for me. I'll be here by six."
"Of course, ma'am."
It couldn't be. Now she was using my handyman?
I parked my car and got out, spotting her standing there. I chose to ignore her and headed straight for my car's transmission oil replacement.
That part took only a minute or two. Once the service was complete, I paid and hopped back in my car, ready to head home. But as I turned the corner, there she was again, waiting for me.
I decided to be a good person and asked if she needed a ride. Of course she did; she had been waiting for me.
"Get in," I said.
"Well, that's one way to pick up a girl," she joked.
I didn't respond, keeping my focus on the road ahead.
After a few minutes of silence, I finally found my voice. "Where would you like me to drop you off?"
"By the mall. My place is close by."
"Okay."
"Okay."
What was this? I wasn't about to play games with her.
We drove in silence until we reached the mall she mentioned.
"Is this it?"
"Yeah, thanks. I'll get off here."
That couldn't be it. Still, I was interested in rekindling whatever spark we had. So I probed further.
"Is that it? By the blue mailbox?"
"No, the one opposite it, yes."
"Okay, good night then."
"Yeah, good night."
She got out and walked toward her house. I didn't leave; instead, I watched as she turned the key in her lock, and then—
"Damn it!!"
I rushed out of my car and caught up to her.
She looked at me, her eyes questioning.
I didn't let her speak; I opened the door and stepped inside.
Once we were inside, I kissed her like my life depended on it. She hesitated at first, but when she felt my hunger for her, she responded.
We kissed, pulling back to catch our breaths, only to dive back in again.
"Ethan?" she murmured.
"Shhh, less talking now, okay?"
"Ethan, I don't want you to regret this. It would break my heart to see you in that position."
"Don't worry about me; I'll be fine. I'm a big boy now. Come here and let me show you just how big I am." I grinned widely.
But she didn't move. She stood there, staring at me, as if trying to decide whether to go through with what was about to happen.
I knew she wanted to, so I pushed a little harder. "I've really missed you, Clara. Why did you leave so suddenly? We could have worked things out here in Michigan. You have no idea how much pain you caused me back then. And yet, here you are again in my life."
"I'm sorry, Ethan. I told you why I had to go."
"Yes, but I still don't understand why you couldn't tell me the truth!"
"I cheated, okay? Is that what you wanted me to say? I was ashamed! Apparently, karma caught up with me—I found out I had that infection I mentioned."
"We'll talk about all this later. Right now, all I want is to be inside you."
My eyes locked on hers. Three years of separation melted away in an instant. The soft moonlight illuminated her porcelain skin, and my heart raced.
She took hesitant but determined steps toward me. I drank in the sight of her, my first love. Time had only enhanced her beauty.
As she reached me, I opened my arms, and she slipped into my embrace. The familiarity of her touch ignited a fire within me.
Our lips met again, and the world around us melted away. The kiss deepened, rekindling the passion that had once burned so brightly between us.
"I've missed you," I whispered, my voice trembling.
She smiled, tears glistening in her eyes. "I've missed you more."
In that moonlit room, the desire between us was palpable. Without words, we began to undress, our movements slow and deliberate.
As I gazed at her, the love and longing in my eyes mirrored hers. I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her close. Our bodies swayed together, warmth and tension building.
As we held each other, the world receded, and those three long years apart vanished. I wanted to continue, but then an image of my wife flashed in my mind. I pushed it away; tonight was about me and my first love.
We explored each other's bodies, eager to reclaim what we had missed for so long.
"Clara?" I asked, breaking the moment.
"Yes, Ethan?"
"You're clean, right?"
I had to ask. No matter how much my body craved her, I couldn't proceed without knowing for sure.
"Yes, Ethan. You don't need to worry. I've been clean for two years now."
I looked at her skeptically.
"I promise, we're good."
That was all I needed to hear. I buried myself inside her.
Her cries of pleasure filled the room, and soon I was groaning with pleasure like I hadn't in years. The effect she had on me was indescribable.
We moved together until we were both spent, but the fire between us flared up again, and we continued.
That night, the world outside Clara's apartment faded, leaving only the two of us, locked in a silence as warm as it was dangerous. As we lay there, I held her close, feeling the steady rise and fall of her breathing against me, her warmth grounding me in a way I hadn't felt in years. Her head rested on my chest, her fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on my arm. It was so easy to slip back into this intimacy, as if nothing had ever happened between us—as if the broken pieces of our past could somehow be made whole again just by being here, in this moment.
My mind wrestled with a whirlwind of emotions. Here was the woman who had shattered my heart and left me questioning everything, yet somehow, I wanted her as much as ever. I wanted to believe the years between us hadn't changed anything—that the longing I felt could erase the mistakes and pain. I closed my eyes, trying to ignore the small voice warning me of the cost, of the thin line I was crossing and the lives I'd complicate by falling back into her orbit.
But at that moment, I was willing to take that risk. The weight of my own loneliness and the deep-rooted ache for something familiar had worn me down, and in Clara's arms, I felt like I was home again. As we drifted into sleep, her fingers intertwined with mine, the gap of three years disappeared. In the warmth of her embrace, the lies, regrets, and doubts faded away, replaced by something simpler—something I'd been craving since she left.
As the first light of dawn crept into the room, I realized what I had done. The barriers I had built to keep her out had crumbled in a single night. Clara was back in my life, not by accident, but by choice. Somewhere deep inside, I knew I wasn't over her, and in that moment of weakness, I had willingly reopened the door to everything we'd once shared.
This was how I invited Clara back into my life, knowing well the risks and the heartbreak that could follow.