Meeting My Ex-Lover for Lunch
Tags: Time, Sexuality, Sex And Relationships, Lovers, Love And Sex

Meeting My Ex-Lover for Lunch

“I miss you. Why don’t we get together?” I texted on our secret messaging app to my ex-lover. “It’s been years!” I exclaimed.

“We should,” he replied. Maybe it was the holidays arriving. Thanksgiving. Perhaps it was horniess. I don’t know.

“How’s next week on Tuesday?”

I didn’t even look at my calendar. I’d move anything to see my ex again.

“Yes. Did you think I’d say no?” I wrote. “I’m dying to see you.”

“Great. I’ll text you closer to set up a place.”

Two years had passed. In adultery terms, it was like two decades. I had been with other lovers, written a book, made so many mistakes, and still couldn’t get over him.

My second man. Not even my first. He was the one I had longed for.

We met at the hotel restaurant for lunch at noon on Tuesday. My GPS announced, “The restaurant may not be open when you arrive.”

“I’m at exit 44,” I texted my ex.

“Can’t wait to see you,” he wrote.

He surprised me by coming up to my car in the parking lot. I was still sitting inside.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Of course!”

A kiss. Not filled with promise or passion, but pleasant. No tongue. Did we still have chemistry?

He looked distinguished, handsome. Greying at his temples. Eyeglasses. Button-down check shirt. Damn men. They look better as they age.

“The memories of this place!” I laughed. “Do you remember?”

“Not really?” he panned.

A summer afternoon so steamy that it was seared in my mind forever, it seemed. Blasting the a/c in a cool white hotel room while we got sweaty.

“You’re hard again?” I had asked. “I can’t believe it!”

“I can’t stop wanting you,” he had said. Over and over again. Five times in one afternoon.

“You’re on fire.”

“We both are,” I had responded.

“Shall we?” he asked, looking up at me expectantly. My mind was lost at that moment, thinking about the past. Was he thinking about us too? That meet?

The restaurant was closed when we got to the door — locked tight.

“It will open soon. It’s almost noon,” I assured him. “No issue.” Shivering in the cold winter air, we talked as if no time had passed.

Why did we have to end? Why couldn’t we have had more time together?

Recalling the icy winter day in the hotel parking lot, two years ago. He looked at me bundled in my scarf and coat and pulled me close.

“Work,” he said. “I’m too busy with this new position and too far away to make this doable.”

I nodded my head sadly, blinking back the tears.

“You’ll miss me,” I joked. I’d miss him.

I knew the real reason, of course. I got too attached — breaking the cardinal rule of adultery.

He held himself in check. I hadn’t.

“To two years, too long,” I toasted, with our drinks clinking.

“Yes, too long,” he answered.

Catching up on our lives took precedence over examining the menu.

“Can I help you with anything?” asked the server.

“One more minute,” we said in unison.

“Have you decided?”

“Not yet,” we answered.

“Are you guys ready to order?” the waitress asked for the third time.

“We really have to order. I feel bad now. She’s sick of us already,” I said.

“Ok. What do you like?”

I like you. Far too much.

“Do you want to order these tapas to share?” he asked. I snuck glances at him over the sangria. He hadn’t changed a bit. Had I?

On the inside, I had changed.

On the outside, more wrinkles around my eyes, reading glasses.

“I can’t see anything without them!” I joked. “Even with contact lenses on. I’m hopeless.”

What I didn’t say was that I was hopeless with him. I couldn’t let him in again. No way. I was different now. More jaded. Less trusting.

The eye doctor said, “This is the way it is. We’re all getting older. With your prescription, we can’t do a correction.”

That’s the truth. We are all getting older. This lunch was just a reminder of all that was gone.

Mistakes. Corrections.

Would I change the future?

“We should do this again sometime,” I said. “Sooner than two years!”

Are we ever going to see each other again? Does he care? Was it better seeing him or not? I couldn’t decide. Two hours together, gone too soon.

“I should be getting home,” he announced.

“Me too.”

A home I’d rather not return to. My house felt empty even when full with people. What had cheating gotten me? Lasting connections? Yes and no. The liaisons were fleeting and fun. Never more.

What did I want?

Everything I didn’t have. With him.

My ex kissed me goodbye in the parking lot where we had started. My eyes watered, driving away.