- June 2007

Almost four months since we first met properly… And that night, that very night I thought he'd never want anything more with me. Just sex, so to say – but no. He called me the next day, he had lunch together. We spent pretty much the whole day together – and the little time we could get every day from that day on.

His eyes in mine as he approaches my face, his lips so demanding and warm… I don't even know. He's an amazing lover, if that's what I can call him, and an amazing friend. Even Elsie noticed that I was completely under his spell. She likes to mock me every now and then, but at least I got a man my age, not any men in his thirties who want a taste of wisdom both in talk and bed.

Right now he's sitting next to me, as we are sitting in a bench, looking at the late afternoon look on the Thames. I can feel his body brushing on mine.

"A penny for your thoughts?" He asked sweetly, taking my hand on his.

I sighed and smiled at him. "You know, this feeling… Is sort of strange."

He raised an eyebrow. "Well, yes, it is… But dear, you've told me your story. And as far as I know, I have no reasons to go anywhere."

"Richard…" I started, looking at the ground. "… you know what I feel, right?"

"The same thing I do."

He turned to me and kissed me briefly, tenderly, holding my face with his left hand. I could feel his moustache tickling my nose.

"And your birthday is in one week." He giggled, breaking the kiss.

I rolled my eyes and sulked to one side. "Oh, shut up."

"Why?"

"I hate it!"

"Why?"

I glared him. "No woman likes to feel old, Richard."

He laughed. "I don't care if you're old."

"Well, I do." I crossed my arms. "I'll be 49, Richard. Forty bloody nine."

"So?"

"I'm almost 50, do you understand now? More wrinkles, menopause, and what not. "

Richard stood up. "Well, come on, old girl. Let get ourselves a bit of privacy." He winked at me.

I sighed heavily, taking the hand he lend me. "You're impossible, Richard Clarkson."

His house, well, his flat was actually quite simple. You know, for a man who hardly spends any time home, it would be perfect. It's large enough for two people to live there but he lives alone. The walls are of this creamy white and his kitchen has a darker tile on the floor and the walls, and it looks quite lovely. He has some photos and paintings – although the photos are mostly taken by him, since he's a photography lover.

He took me by the hand to the living room - quite lovely as well, pretty much like mine and Elsie's.

"You stay here. I'll get ourselves some tea." Richard said, pointing me to the couch.

"I can help you-"

"No, you stay here. These are doctor's orders." He joked, going to the kitchen.

After a while he came back at me with two cups of tea.

"I ran out of biscuits, though." Richard laughed, sitting beside me. "I'm quite sorry about that."

"It's alright, I'm not hungry anyway." I took my cup of tea and placed it on the table in front of us, leaning on him. "You're going to have a night shift today, I should make you go and take some rest."

Richard scoffed. "I know, but you can give me all the rest and relax that I need." His tone of voice was quite obvious.

The tea can be damned – I loved when he talked to me like that. So subtle, so damn sexy. The first thing I know is that I'm already feeling his lips on mine and his hands making me lean back on the couch. I gasp quietly as his hands are already on my legs. I wasn't distracted or anything, his actions were just so intense I always had a hard time figuring out what he was going to do next.

His hands went up from my thighs to my torso, lifting up my dress a little, showing off my knickers my stockings. His lips made a trail of kisses from my neck to my cleavage, which wasn't big but enough for him to plant on it. We both slowly sat back again on the couch as he reached for the back zipper of my dress and I to the buttons of his navy blue shirt.

- One Hour Later –

Do you know the feeling when you just found the man who could satisfy every single carnal need of your body? I sure know now. Richard is amazing, and the jealous me wants to ask him how did he get so good at bedding a woman, because for a man who (according to his words) never had many women in his life and was never married, he sure knew how to treat one.

We were laying on his bed, his arms around me, his warm breath on the back of my neck. I was holding his hands tightly against my chest, feeling his sweat wetting them.

"I…" I started.

Richard raised his head. "Isobel."

"No, shut up, let me say this." I insisted, turning my body around so I could look at his face. "Richard, I…"

"You don't need to, I don't need you-" He tried to interrupt me but I shut him up with my index finger on his lips.

"I love you. Because… I know that we've talked and that it's still difficult for me to say this, but we've been together for months and what I feel for you… It's very intense, and it's amazing and I think you should hear those words come from my mouth."

I've never seen him smiling like that. So warmly, so like Reginald – but he was nothing like him.

"Isobel, from this point on… I do love you, and I do want you. But our work and everything…" He sighed, his smile losing its brightness. "…In the future, we will sink or swim together."

I leaned my head on his chest, sighing heavily. "I've suffered enough, I don't want to sink."

"I don't want it either… So promise me that if anything is bound to happen… You don't kill yourself." He joked, chuckling. "But now seriously, don't… don't get yourself down too much."

I raised my head. "I'll try."

He leaned on me again for a tender kiss before he knew that he had to get up and get ready for work.

- One Year Later, June 2008 –

I've never liked my birthday. Mostly because my parents always made a huge fuss out of it because I was an only child, and I've never liked to blow candles and make wishes or anything. I liked the presents and the cake, but for that I had already Christmas, and I thought it was enough. I've met Reginald on my 15th birthday and he asked me to marry him on my 23th birthday as well. All the reasons for me to hate it. And the fact that I look older every year.

But this time… It had another taste to it. I've put my prettiest dress on and I've waited for Richard to pick me up on our usual spot. Last year he took me to the theatre and it was amazing because Elsie and my son came along as well with us. This year I've had lunch with Elsie and Matthew and they both took me to our usual restaurant which had already a special cake for me. Nevertheless to say that I love Elsie and Matthew to death, my sister and my son.

The soft wind blew to the orient as I was leaning on my arms on the fence to the river. The sun was setting and in a few moments he'd arrive. How? I don't know. I don't care. As long as he holds me close.

We've been together for one year and three months. It's strange… I've never had such a long relationship since Reg died. I've never felt this for anyone. And even after one year, the sex was still surprisingly good, the kisses always felt like the first time, the hands together weren't sore.

Suddenly I felt his scent on the hair and arms engulfing me. I closed my eyes and turned around to him, receiving his strange and lame kiss. He tasted like alcohol, which was a lot unlike him. Perhaps he was drinking, but then again, he was right on time – when he's drunk he often forgets about the time.

But my heart skipped a beat when I heard something fall on the floor not far from me.

"Isobel!" I've heard his voice from far, totally not coming from this man who was kissing me's mouth.

I've opened my eyes and saw that I was kissing this man who was always hitting on me on the local pub me and Elsie used to go. Molesley was his name and I've never punched anyone so hard in the face in my whole life.

"You son of a bitch!" I've yelled at him, people staring at me. His mouth was bleeding and I looked at one side trying to find Richard. "Richard? Richard? RICHARD?"

He was nowhere to be seen. He left a huge bouquet of flowers for me. He… He left me because he thought I was cheating on him with Molesley. I can't believe it…

"Richard!"

I've kneeled in front of the flowers, crying. He didn't even give me time to explain what happened, and he left. He left. He was gone with the wind…

"Isobel, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-" Molesley approached me.

"DON'T GET ANY NEAR ME!" I've shouted.

Another reason to hate my birthday: The day the man I loved thought I cheated on him with a drunk bastard who's lucky to be alive.

We sank… We sank… I did not want to sank.