The second installment of the fiction piece 5 Lovers.
Our friends informed us that we were visiting the same city at the same time, a remarkable coincidence, considering. You managed to get the name of my hotel and showed up unannounced, a blessing since self-doubt would have accompanied anticipation. Our nights were a blur of cocktails, color and corner booth conversations. You would stretch your arm out for my hand and pull me forward after we closed the taxi doors, heading towards the restaurant, martini bar, or nightclub entrance, heels clicking on cobblestone, our jackets open to the wind. We went out with the people you were there to see, but you made it seem, in your own natural way, that you had flown in just to see me.
We spent our nights together as if it was inevitable, and maybe it was. You were sweet and gentle and granted me every possible consideration, and the day that you left I was elated that, for the brief period of time that we came together, it was perfect. Yet when I returned to my regular rhythm and your afterglow had faded, I began to mourn what is lost when long time desire is satisfied.
-Allie Jenkinson
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