Before the Rain Falls

“Miss Reed, here are the documents you requested.” “Thanks Kathryn.” I acknowledged as she put the stack down onto my desk. “Oh and Austin wanted me to pass on that he’s nearly done with today’s letters, so he’ll bring them in to sign in about in about an hour.” I let my eyes drift up to the clock. Sure I had a digital one flashing in the corner of the computer screen, but I barely looked at it. I much preferred the old fashioned ticking. It held a certain c

“So then what happened?” Carmen asked eagerly, swirling her glass bearing the remnants of a white wine. “Well he must have received the letter because I got a text message from him.” Carmen looked practically giddy at the news. “And?” she trailed off, eyes bright. I took a sip of my own red vintage before answering. “Long story short, I’m meeting him tomorrow night, seven o’ clock at Italia.”

I placed the last few pins in my hair, carefully moving my hands away from the now elegant style. Assessing my appearance in the mirror, I was surprised by how good I looked. Suits and smart dresses were my usual day to day attire, followed by comfy t-shirts and leggings in the evening. I’d opted for a smart casual outfit, the age old classic jeans and a nice top. Though for some reason, I’d felt like doing my hair extra fancy. Oh well. It was a special occasion. Nerve racking, but special nevertheless.     Giving a satisfied nod to my reflection, I grabbed my handbag from the bed. It was one I seldom used, but the classy red and black design went with my crimson blouse. Prying it open, I

The dinner was off to a better start than I could have imagined, despite the slight awkwardness. And Killian looked good. Very good. Women must be falling at his feet. A burst of jealousy shot through me at the thought and I tampered it down. Killian wasn’t mine, he could see who he wanted. But right now, he’s here with you, my mind whispered. He was, wasn’t he? I resolved to make the most of this evening and his company.    The waitress from earlier returned with our drinks and asked for our order. “Can I get the bruschetta to start and then the ravioli?” I asked without missing a bea

The dinner had finished hours ago, after we'd indulged in a delectable tiramisu. Afterwards, we'd continued the evening by having drinks at the bar. One had turned to two and two had become three. Anything to make the night last longer. But now here I was, finally standing outside Italia wrapped in my jacket, gazing across at Killian and trying to hide my sadness. Just like seven years ago. It was late, close to midnight in fact. And yet I still didn't want the night to end.      This evening had proven that he was still the