She felt as if her heart was breaking. She had gone so long, not allowing herself to think of him. She had built her life anew, learning again to live without him. She moved away from home, from her life and started again. Over the years, the memory of him had faded, and now he only remained as a dream. A beautiful, passionate dream that disappears almost entirely upon waking. And so she learned to live again, new town, new life. A life without love.
She only kept in contact with her mother, preferring not to keep the memories of such a happy life. She even left her grandparents behind, her father, her best and oldest friends. She couldn't bear to see the way they had moved on and grown with the people they love. She always felt they secretly thought she needed to let go of the memory of him and start to live again. But in a way she had done exactly that. She had found a new life for herself. Work was her life.
She devoted herself to it fully, keeping herself from the feeling of solitude and loneliness. She rationalised this to herself with the idea that if she was surrounded by people, she wasn't truly alone. And she used that thought to protect herself from hurt. She built her new life around her like a shield. A shield to keep her memories of him at bay.
And then there he was.
He came again into her life as if he had never left. But in his reappearance he was a different man, a changed man. No longer was he the vibrant, larger-than-life man he was in her head. Now he was quiet, repressed and intently focussed. No longer did he look immaculately turned out. His hair was cut short, shorter than he ever wore before, emphasising the tired lines of his face. The dull blue colour of his shirt washed out his features, where she once remembered that wearing blue drew out the colour of his eyes. He was a shadow of the man he once was, the man she once loved.
He was not expecting her either. His face betrayed his surprise, a shadow of pain, of confusion, and longing crossed his features before they smoothed once again to become impassive. His gaze swept over her tired grey suit, the unkempt ponytail her hair was scraped back into. He was amazed to see his girl so lifeless. Their eyes locked and she knew he'd tried to forget her as much as she had him.
At first they had no words for each other. None were needed. One look at each other said all they needed to. The pain, the regret. It was all still there, newly discovered after years of denial. They stood in the grand foyer of her workplace, so much open space, and yet it felt crowded with the depths of their emotions. They stood still, on either sides of the foyer, staring at each other, two stone pillars that people ignored as they crossed the floor. They needed no words to speak to each other, seeking a quiet place for the inevitable reunion.
When they were alone, finally he spoke.
"You're here."
"I live here now." Her reply was quiet. There was none of the vivaciousness that he had tried so hard to forget.
"I'm engaged." He was not sure why he felt he had to tell her.
"I know. I read the announcement in the paper. Congratulations. Your family must be proud."
There was no eye contact between them. They stood facing each other, dead space between them, and the tense silence mounted. Neither of them moved nor spoke. When the agony of silence became too much she turned to leave. And, in the deafening quiet, she heard him take one step toward her.
"I still miss you."
She stilled. He had spoken so softly she thought she had imagined it. She thought that maybe, after all the years of being unable to forget, and then finally seeing him again, she had dreamed him saying the words she had so painfully longed for him to say. And then he spoke again.
"I try not to. It's been so long. I'm engaged. I've tried to convince myself that I'm happy. But how can I be, when I don't have you? When I'm not marrying you?"
She half-turned to face him, years of unshed tears building in her eyes.
"I let you go. I wasn't in a place to be what you needed. But that doesn't mean that it didn't hurt. It still does. But what I did was right. You moved on, you're even engaged now." She turned to leave once again, but she was stopped by him reaching out to take her wrist with a touch she remembered so intimately. She refused to face him. She couldn't bear to look at that face she had loved so dearly. He whispered her name, half pleading, half in fear.
It was that whisper, that soft expulsion of air that broke her. She turned, blindly, lips seeking his in a dance so familiar it hurt. Hands tangled in her hair, hands sought for the familiar slopes of his face. There seemed no space between them as they clung to one another, lips, bodies and hearts fused together as one.
He tilted his head, in an unconsciously familiar gesture, deepening the kiss in a desperate need to get closer to her. A noise slipped from her, half moan, half whimper, and it brought her back to reality. To the empty room with the only man she couldn't ever be with.
She broke the kiss, their faces still intimately close, too close. A soft breath of air and she knew that he knew it too. She took his hand from her hair and raised it to her lips in a poignant goodbye before releasing it, and him. He took a half step back, not making eye contact, but not quite breaking the invisible string that held them together.
The world stopped, and all that was left was their hearts calling to each other, aching to be free again. Free to live, and free to love. Time stretched on in this new world they had built together, until it felt as if there was nothing left but the two of them.
And just as suddenly as it started, it was gone. He ran a hand through his close cropped hair, a style that gave him an air of severity. Still unable to meet each other's gaze, he made a sound of finality, then turned and walked away. He left without another word, just as suddenly as he had appeared.
She watched his retreating form and knew no mater how much she changed her life, how much she tried to forget, he would always be the one to own her heart. As he took the final steps and closed the door, disappearing from view, she finally found the strength to say the words she had been trying, desperately, to say for years.
"Goodbye Logan."