He knew that she knew that he knew that she liked him. Or so.
His hunch was proven on his last day at work.
She approached him resolutely and gave him a recent passport photo.
On the back was the text: 'This way you won't forget me', followed by her name,
three x-es and a phone number which he suspected to be hers.
In the plane the next morning he felt his cheek that still softly glowed
from the kiss she had planted on it.
When she made virtual contact half a life later
and sent a photo he recognised her straight away.
He had indeed never forgotten her.
Her features were of a classic beauty. She had aged some but was more beautiful
than she had been in his thoughts.
By the looks of it the years had been kind to her
and in the time that passed she had had a son, or so her understood.
His heart fell when the realisation that another had beaten him to it hit him.
After a few months of correspondence he found out that she was a single mother
and he silently uttered a tentative cry for joy.
It was up to him now to make a move but did he dare?
Or should he leave the next step to her?
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