One thing in particular on one of the shelves catches my eyes, so far the only personal touch I can discover. The hourglass I gave her as a present when she left for Paris. It’s filled with sand of the beach where we first kissed. First it was standing on her desk at the Louvre, later at the gallery. I pick it up and turn it around, causing the sand to start running through the neck, reminding me that enough time is wasted.

Bette’s POV 

‘That was James.’ I say entering the room again and find her standing at the book closet, placing back the hourglass that I have always had with me ever since she gave it to me. It always meant so much to me, it was a reminder of our first kiss. I always liked to look at it and wish time would fly till I’d see her again and when I did I liked to think that we can stop the time when we are together.

‘I was wondering then if I should engrave something, but whatever I thought off, it seemed too early….too soon. So I opted against, in case we wouldn’t make it you could always keep it.’

‘And it’s still here.’ I pick up the hourglass and turn it around, if only it was this easy to turn back time. She watches the sand run in opposite direction, the air between us suddenly so different from when she entered. I walk back to the couch and sit down, pouring us some more wine, hoping she won’t decide to leave after I cut our talk so abruptly.

‘I was nervous to call you, silly isn’t it? I only had that when we started dating.’ Her voice is soft while she traces the shelf with her fingertips. If she is annoyed that I took the call, which I expected her to be, she doesn’t show it. ‘It’s surreal that you’re still here.’

‘That I’m thinking every day when I walk the streets.’ It is silly that she is always on my mind when I walk the streets and it’s silly to be nervous while waiting for her to visit me here.

‘Knowing you it must have been awfully hard to give up so much control and I don’t mean only the gallery.’