Prologue

You see it in movies and books all the time. That singular moment, eyes meeting across a crowded room, time standing still, the inane chatter of dozens of conversations fading to mere background noise.

Call it what you will, love at first sight, soulmates, destiny. Me I’m a realist, the brightest minds in the world haven’t worked out how to slow time, so I highly doubt eye contact is the key, and sure, Shakespeare turned Romeo and Juliet into loves young dream, but I never did work out why a bunch of overly dramatic dead teens became the height of romance, but sure, buried together ‘relationship goals’ right there!

Personally, I call it bullshit!

At least I did thirty seconds ago because then my world made sense, then I hadn’t lifted my head at the sound of a long-forgotten laugh. I hadn’t locked on to the gorgeous pair of brown eyes that once invaded my every dream, then I hadn’t felt like the air was being squeezed out of my lungs never to return.

Fifteen years!

Fifteen years and over a thousand miles from where we first met, there she stood ‘Bette Porter’ and good god she still looked good!

Films never show you this bit. The pain of recognition, watching the myriad of emotions cross her face, shock, fear, hope, anger, the hundreds of questions she no doubt wants or needs answers to, and finally determination as she convinces herself to move towards me.

This was not how I had planned my evening. All I wanted was a quick drink after a long and tedious day at work and now here I was, watching my first love walk towards me. What would she do? Approach me, treat me as nothing more than an old acquaintance? Or the opposite, bypass me entirely and head straight for the exit behind me?

And if she did ignore me, what will I do?

Let her go? Did that once before, didn’t exactly end well.

Or go after her? Attract the attention of the friends she’s with and force her into a conversation. Somehow, I can’t see that going over too well.

“Hey, Bette”

“Long time, no see”

“Sorry I didn’t write or call”

“You’re looking well”

“Sooooo, how was prison?

Nope, that won’t end well, for either of us

‘Oh boy, here she comes…

Think, Kennard, Think!