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See you there..." "...looking where I was going." "I was trying to..." "I was trying to..." "...get to my apartment." "...get to the train." "Are you OK?" "Are you all right?" Hearing their own words echo out of the other's mouth struck them both as funny, and they began to laugh. Rachel walked over to the man and helped him to his feet. His arm had scraped along the curb as he fell, tearing his suit jacket and shirt sleeve and, she could now see, the skin of his left arm, too. "Oh, I'm so sorry," she said. "Are you OK?" He looked ruefully at his arm. "I think the jacket got it worse than I did. It's a write-off." "But your arm..." "Nah, it didn't reach the bone," he said, half-jokingly. "No, but it should be cleaned." He looked around at the sheets of rain. "Should be sluiced off in a few seconds, in this downpour." She chuckled and said, "In this city? Even the rain is grimy; you'll probably lose the arm or something." They both bent to pick up their respective bags, and she. My current husband, Rich was parking the truck and didn’t know Steve was there yet. I got weak in the knees and felt the butterflies start up. Steve was just as attractive, if not more so, than the last time I saw him about 5 years ago. He walked up and kissed my cheek, telling me how great I looked and asking how Rich was. I gave him the polite answer and hurried away. Rich couldn’t stay for the celebration dinner which left Steve and I essentially alone surrounded by Gina’s family. We chatted over dinner, mostly about generic stuff; definitely avoiding our relationship or any we have had since the divorce. It was like a strained first date, the conversation went nowhere and we were held hostage by fear. After dinner was over, I started walking with Gina to her car, since she was going to drive me home. Steve said since it was out of her way and he lived out near me now he would drive me home. I reluctantly agreed; we could barely talk over dinner, what would we talk about in the.
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