Finding Us Again

WALKING DOWN MEMORY LANE 2

The Past

Since that day, they met up whenever they had the chance to, either lunch during the weekdays or on Sundays.

The more time he spent with her, the warmer he felt—at first a small flicker, now a heat that spread through him, steady and undeniable. He loved their conversations, the easy laughter that spilled between them, the stories of past days they shared. But more than anything, he loved watching her.

The mischievous spark in her eyes, the way her teeth caught her lower lip when she was lost in thought, the soft flutter of lashes that brushed her cheeks when she received a compliment, the graceful arch of her neck when she laughed freely—he loved it all. He loved being near her, simply being with her.

And then, one night, as they walked toward his car after a late evening at a dine-in, it hit him like a sudden storm. The last piece of the puzzle clicked into place, sharp and undeniable. He loved her.

Not a fleeting fondness or casual liking, but a deep, undeniable, heart-stopping love. The feeling was so strong he had to slow his steps, letting the weight of it settle, the small affection he had carried for months blooming into something vast and uncontainable.

Michelle turned back when she noticed his slowed pace. “Are you okay? I told you that I’d like to buy a ticket for Leonardo DiCaprio’s new movie.” He didn’t smile as she did, everything he was feeling, everything he wanted, rose and fell inside him, lifting him up and pulling him under all at once.

Her laughter faded, and as quiet settled over them, their eyes met in the moonlight—electric, charged, and impossible to ignore. Without hesitation, he leaned in, brushing his lips against hers for a fleeting moment. But when she parted her lips and let out a soft, inviting sigh, it was all the encouragement he needed.

He cupped her face, deepening the kiss, their mouths moving together with a rhythm that felt natural, effortless. Her hands found his neck, their hearts pounding in tandem. Every feeling he’d held onto over the past month—the laughter, the stories, the shared glances—fused into that single moment, transforming months of fondness and affection into something potent, something alive.

By the time they parted, her wide, shining eyes were fixed on his, and in them, he saw every emotion he’d been feeling reflected back, real and undeniable.

“What are we doing?” she asked, her voice a quiver. “What about Amelia?”

“Amelia isn’t the one making my heart pound right now,” he answered, his voice a rasp. “The person doing that is you.”

Michelle unclasped her hands from his neck and stepped back, her eyes lowered. “No, Michael. We shouldn’t. This isn’t right.” Her words were the cold water on his escalating emotions, jolting him back to reality.

Of course, he and Michelle couldn’t be a thing. Of course, there was the relationship he’d once had with someone who was as close to her as a sister to consider. What the hell was he thinking?

“You’re right. I’m sorry,” he said, also stepping back. “I had way too much to drink.”

They stood in awkward silence for a while before Michelle stretched out her hand. “You want me to drive?”

He forced a smile. “Of course not. I promise I’m not that tipsy.” Her smile in response was tight and they made the drive to her parents’ home in silence.

“I’ll call you,” he said to her before driving away, even though he knew he wouldn’t. Because inappropriate though anything happening between them was, it didn’t change the fact that he’d fallen in love with her.

And it was in both their best interest for him to stay away.

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Over the month Michelle spent with Michael, she convinced herself her enjoyment of his company came from fond memories, his humor, and a decade-long familiarity. But when he kissed her in that deserted parking lot in the night, she realized her feelings were far from platonic—her body and heart were drawn to him.

Struggling with the fact that he was her best friend’s boyfriend, she resolved to avoid him, thinking distance would help. Initially relieved by his silence, she soon found herself constantly thinking about him, losing sleep and focus.

Forgetting him proved harder than she imagined, and Valentine’s Day intensified her longing, making her resentful of others’ relationships and painfully aware of her own impossible desire.

She had just showered and changed into her pajamas with plans to distract herself with a book when her phone rang.

And seeing Michael’s name on her screen unraveled her, destroying all her resolve. “Hello?” she answered, trying to keep the tremor in her body from her voice.

“Hey,” Michael’s voice came. Neither of them spoke for a while, but the emotions Michelle wasn’t brave to define filled the silence.

“I miss you,” he finally said. “You’re all I can think about, Michelle.”

And with that, she melted.

“I know this is weird, especially because of Amelia, but…” he went on, his voice trailing off for a while before he continued. “The simple fact is that I like you, Michelle. I like you a lot.” He exhaled before going on. “I know you said you didn’t want to hang out again…” he began. “I do. I want to see you,”

She cut in. “Dinner tomorrow?” She heard the smile in his voice as he answered,

“Dinner tomorrow sounds perfect.”

“I won’t drive, so you can pick me up,” she said, her heart already racing a mile a minute in anticipation. And that was exactly what he did, pick her up after work.

Even though it had only been two weeks, the way her heart lifted and her sprits soared when she saw him, it felt a lot longer. But as they drove to Kats Deli, as they enjoyed fine dining and sweet cocktails, there was already something different, something headier, something more intimate.

When they were driving out of Kats Deli then Michelle turned to him. “You live in upper west side, don’t you? I’d like to see your apartment.”

He nodded, content with just her presence after going two weeks without it. Upon getting to the Suite apartment that his father rented for him, as he led Michelle into it, he was happy to have her just view his living space.

But the moment they were both inside it, the moment he turned to her, the moment he dragged in a deep lungful of her cherry fragrance, he was intoxicated, tipsy by her smell and nearness. His breath hitched in his chest, the moment too intimate to allow him any breath. She closed the distance between them and placed her hands on his chest, causing the thick desire that was welling inside him to almost rip through the muscles in his body.

He shook his head and pulled her hand and walked her to his room. She sat on the bed to unstrap her heels and slowly, hesitantly, she reached for the hem of her sweater, her fingers curling around the fabric as she pulled it over her head, and took off her skirt. She laid on the bed with her bra and panties, staring at the ceiling.

He reached for his shirt and began to unbutton it then he took it off. Next were his shoes, then his jeans. He climbed in next to her with just his briefs.

He climbed on top of her, his weight on her. Slipping a hand behind her back, he unclasped her bra and took it off. He stared at the pale mounds, n*****s erect.

They felt small and firm in his large hands. He played with her n*****s then leaned in for a kiss.

The chemistry between the two was undeniable. The kiss was slow at first but now it burned. He kissed her like he was a horny teenager, the kiss became too greedy, too sloppy. His hands were everywhere. He was right, her skin was like silk. He let his fingers roam around her body from her hands, to her breasts, to her stomach, then to her heat.

She moaned and he liked the sound of it. In a few minutes, he learned about her body, the exciting parts and the places that made her shiver. He leaned back and took off his briefs, his eyes never leaving hers.

He placed two fingers inside her and spread her wetness all around her then slipped them back inside. His fingers moved in a fast and slow pace, and when her body began to tense up, he pulled out his fingers.

Then he pushed into her slowly, his warm slide in and out wasn't done hurriedly, he took his time, studied her flushed face and chest.

Their breathing became loud and shaky, he worked his hand on her c**t furiously as he drove himself deeper until they both reached their c****x. The world stilled, and they crumbled like sand. He felt the chemistry and it was undeniable

He rolled off her and she turned to face him. She kissed his cheeks and smiled "I'd like to do that again."

He chuckled and she laughed "You smell good." he pulled her closer to him and drew circles on her hips and they kissed slowly like time was on their side. He grew hard and they went at it again. This time, she was on top of him.

When they were spent, Michael said “I’m in love with you, Michelle,”

And there it was. The perfect articulation of what she felt for him. Love. “I love you, too,” she said.

As she looked up at him, as their eyes held, as her heart expanded so large and wide there was barely space in her chest cavity to contain it, nothing… and nobody…else mattered.

Michael proposed that November after meeting with her parents, presenting her with a Harry Winston bespoke stone.

While his family immediately fell for her, her mother was sceptical because of his link to her former best friend. But in the end, seeing them together convinced her that they were, indeed, the real deal. The following March, they were married in a luxurious ceremony at the catholic church his parents attended.

Within a week of returning from their honeymoon, Michelle found out she was pregnant. Everything was perfect. Everything was exactly as she’d dreamed. Until an email dropped in her inbox a week to her due date, an email from a certain Tender H, simply reading

How could you, Michelle? How could you do this? I will never forgive you!

Michelle was still vibrating with fear and anguish when Michael got home from work later that evening, but to her chagrin, he wasn’t even bothered.

“It’s probably someone playing a prank,” he said as they cuddled in bed that night, his hand rubbing circles on her back to soothe her. But she didn’t feel soothed, neither did she believe the email was from someone playing a prank.

The following day, she constructed an epistle as a reply but was devastated when there was no reply. That was when she convinced herself Michael was right and it was, indeed, from someone with a depraved sense of humour.

Everything went back to being perfect, as she got pregnant again shortly after the first one, having their two children within eighteen months of each other. But as her baby weight refused to fall off, as her new body diminished her confidence, and as Michael left his stable consulting firm job to pursue crazy business ideas, his father’s bankruptcy, their deteriorating marriage, took center stage.