Walking into the restaurant I looked around for a familiar face. It was unlikely of course. I was out-of-town, and it was the late lunch hour on a week day. It was more instinct, I think, than anything.
I didn’t see a familiar face until I stood in front of him, and then there it was; that face I had loved for so long, smiling at me, standing to kiss me on the cheek, take my elbow, and slide my chair out.
He looked as happy to see me as I felt seeing him. It had been too long. Being married to other people had made things difficult.