'I shall resign my commission…'
He'd blurted it out.
And I knew we were over.
I let the weight of my falling heart catapult me back into the expected trajectory of my life: my passion for communications, my goals, my work.
Midnight: the door-chime buzzed insistently until I staggered out of bed to answer. I opened the door to a view of bare feet: green tinted toes recoiling from the cold of the deck.
In black silk pajamas he waited, expressionless, hands dangling loose at his sides.
"Nyota…I'm sorry. I regret-"
"Shh, baby." I pulled him inside. "It's okay."