They’ve kissed many times and many years before. Kisses that grew from a peck until they became desirable, covetable, impulsive. The touch of his hands takes her world to cloud nine.
But today with suitcase on hand, in the airport, he is leaving. To a place of uncertainty lurking at the back of his mind. Of the things he wants in life, when going away is an option.
Yes, he is coming back, he says, an easy and direct reply to a question designed without explanation. It didn’t answer the why. Another reply, he knew deep inside of him will weave longer tale of lies, even when he didn’t want to lie.
Yes, she heard it. The lie. Nothing could be done now. Except to listen to that one lie of yes. And yes, she don’t want to listen to a concocted story to make an obvious lie.
Grabbing her by the waist, his lip on hers, lock themselves up for a while, longer than it used to be. A steaming, hot long kiss wishing to make it last as long. A kiss that used to be the symbol of ardent love, longing and passion.
Today it is the kiss to seal a lie. With suitcase in his hand.