My heart stops as I watch you come through the door of the coffee shop. I know you at once.
At school, you were ‘the one’. My reason to breathe. The golden boy, the tennis ace. Leggy and tall, with a cheeky, sexy grin like John Travolta.
You’ve hardly changed despite the passing years. Then, I catch a fleeting glimpse in a mirror on the wall beside me, of a woman I barely recognise. A knife twists in my chest. A reality check. I smile as the young man passes by. Of course, he isn’t you. How could he be?