When she sat down in front of me I noted that she was shocked by the beard, but more than that I was pleased that she could see it at all. I had ordered the wine, and I was hoping that she would recognise that I had remembered her favourite Riesling, when she got right down to it;

“Why did you call me?”

This was not the opening gambit I had been expecting. Obviously I was not quite so crass as to want to hear her say “It’s nice to see you”, but I was hoping her reaction to be less confrontational, more pleased perhaps. I was a little lost for words, and Sara could see that.

“I’m serious, why did you want to see me after three years? Did you think I was going to be keen to reconcile? Were you just lonely? I don’t have a lot of time, so can we just get this over with?”

I was starting to wonder how I could answer any of these questions without sounding like an idiot. It was true that I had heard that her sight was back, and it was true that I wanted her back; now it was clear that she did not want me at all.

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