Maya's hands are trembling as she parks her car on the pub car park. She steadies her hands on the steering wheel and draws a few shaky breaths trying to settle her nerves. "It's just him, it's just him. Why am I so terrified?" She asks herself out loud. "I'm so nervous, I'll never be able to eat. Why did I agree to lunch?"
She pulls down the sun visor and looks at her face in the mirror, mentally repeating "Get yourself together, get yourself together". Un-clipping the seat belt and pulling her handbag from the passenger seat, she finds her lipgloss. She returns her attention to the mirror, resolving to be calm as she adds the pink gloss to her lips and runs her fingers through her dark wavy hair, rearranging her fringe a little until she's satisfied that she doesn't look as stressed as she feels. She puts the gloss back in the bag and her attention is drawn to the silver car pulling into the car park. He's here. She watches in the rear view as the car is parked up and the driver's door opens. She's tempted to stay still so she can observe him but forces herself to open her own door and step out of the car. She tries her best not to look at him, determined to appear nonchalant. As she's gathering her handbag and coat, she hears him closing his door and the jangle of keys as they're shoved in his pocket before she feels his eyes are on her. Maya turns to face him, unsure of the welcome she's expecting.
The break up had been a messy one. What started as a standard date night- dinner, drinks and back to her house for sex, had turned into rougher sex than ever before and a huge row. She'd never seen him so angry and he said some really hurtful things, they both did. She hadn't heard from him in almost six months until he text her last week asking her to agree to meet him for lunch. She was annoyed that he had chosen to text rather than call her at first but then reasoned it had given her time to think and compose her responses carefully. She's still angry with him for ignoring her messages and calls in those first few weeks before she gave up on him answering. Part of her agreed to meet him for the opportunity to vent that anger but mostly she's intrigued to hear what he's got to say for himself and to see if the electric connection between them is still there.
Before she has time to really think about moving, George is walking towards her wearing a casual shirt with the sleeves rolled up exposing his forearms, despite the icy Winter weather. He looks a little unsure of how he will be received too and but instinctively Maya drops her things back into the car seat and steps into his open arms. George squeezes her against his solid chest, his arms wrapping around her waist. Maya takes a deep breath, relaxing into his body, closing her eyes, absorbing his heat and the familiar scent of his aftershave. She remembers how good this always felt before, how safe and protected he always made her feel and isn't surprised to feel a sense of that again. He releases his hold slightly and goes to speak.
"Maya, I..."
"Shhh" she rushes back at him, the sound of his low voice against her ear makes her knees a little weak as always. It's too much. "just shhh".
George does as he's told allowing them both a moment to enjoy her being in his arms again. It's a few moments before Maya realises how odd they must look just clinging to each other on the car park and her calves are starting to ache. Their height difference means standing on tip toes for her to reach her arms around his neck like this. Finally she steps back, running her hands over his broad shoulders and down his arms until her hands are holding his.
"Hi?" He ventures, his eyes full of trepidation despite his cheeky grin and he gives her hands a gentle squeeze.
"Hi" Maya smiles hard, trying to control the tears threatening in her eyes and inwardly cursing herself for letting it show.
***
This pub had been Maya's choice, one of her favourites for its traditional beams, and riverside location. The perfect place for a private conversation away from the city where they both live. Maya chooses a table by a fireplace, it's freezing outside and she dressed for seeing George rather than for the weather.
As she waits for him to return from the bar with their drinks she watches his easy manner while he laughs with the barman. Outwardly he appears relaxed, perhaps only she would notice the tell tale tightness in his jaw. He's nervous too. That makes her feel slightly better but the swell of mixed emotions is making her brain fuzzy. On the one hand, here he is, the man she's been not so secretly longing to see and have back in her life over the last few months. On the other, she's angry for how he left her and is full of questions about what happened and why he's got in touch now, just as she was starting to get over him. She notices that as he turns, he visibly squares his shoulders before carrying the drinks over to the table and taking his seat opposite her.
As they glance over the menus and order their food from the waitress and George starts the conversation by asking Maya how she's been and how shes getting on in her job. He tells her about his latest skiing trip, (a corporate perk) and the improvements he has been making on his house, talking quickly and full with detail. Maya's responses are succinct, rather than chatty and despite her best efforts finds herself distracted. As he talks, she finds her eyes scanning over his stubbly jaw and his full lips rather than looking him in the eye. Had she really forgotten how attractive he is? Did he get better looking since she last saw him?
His hands are playing with the beer mat on the table, he's twitchy, never still. It's unusual for her to see George looking uncomfortable as he's always been so sure of himself and sure of her desire for him. She had always been so responsive to him and had met his sexual needs without question during their relationship. In their few months together he had uncovered the submissive in her with his naturally dominant personality, in the bedroom particularly where he had introduced her to bondage, role play and pain as pleasure. Part of her is almost enjoying seeing him so agitated and nervous and feels like she might have the upper hand for once, if she can stop herself from drooling when her eyes catch the flexing of his forearms each time he lifts his pint glass to his mouth. He looks vulnerable: softer than the man she knows and already her anger at him seems less potent.
When lunch arrives Maya is surprised to find her appetite has returned. George watches as she starts eating enthusiastically until she notices him watching her.
"What are you smiling at?" She asks, embarrassed to realise that he hasn't touched his plate yet and she's several mouthfuls in.
"Somethings haven't changed, hey?"
Maya feels her cheeks colour.
"I have a healthy appetite, what's your point?" She laughs for the first time and they both relax a little.
"You go ahead, it's clearly not doing you any harm" he says overtly running his eyes over her body. "You look amazing. I probably should've said that earlier but you know I always think you look amazing right?"
"Always?" She frowns in disbelief.
"Absolutely always."
Maya does her best to hide that his words have made the butterflies inside her start leaping around by taking another mouthful of her pasta and making appreciative "mmm" noises.
George starts eating too and there're a few moments awkward silence before he clears his throat.
"Thank you for coming" he says "I know I don't deserve it after how I treated you. I made a horrible mistake that night and instead of dealing with it I walked away. You deserve so much more."
Its clear to Maya from his delivery that he has practised what to say and imagining him repeating his lines to himself, makes her smile. It's kinda cute and she's intrigued what else he wants to tell her.
"Carry on. What mistake?".
