Louis took in the salty scent of the sea breeze. This place felt different from his regular city life. It was much more quiet and spacious. He could stretch out his arms without worrying about hitting the person next to him. Times seemed to move slower too, but at this moment his heart was beating fast. He ran his hands along the edge of the wooden table, over the red and white checked tablecloth. This was a typical seaside café. It had a front porch area for al-fresco dining and an indoor air-conditioned area. "Simple Pleasures" was its name.

She carefully poured the freshly boiled hot water into a teapot. A teabag was hanging over the edge of the pot. As she placed the lid over the teapot, she stole another glance at the man sitting at the front porch. She timed the tea infusion as she looked at her watch. She normally would have gone about with her other tasks while the tea was brewing but this was not a normal day. He was here - unexpected but wished for. She stood over the teapot until it was time to remove the teabag.

The sun peeped over the clouds shyly and shone over her head and face, giving her a glowing effect. He could see the familiar features, the ones imprinted in his memory. He exercised control over his body reactions - his hands longed to caress her cheeks, his fingers could not wait to run along the bridge of her nose and over her lips. She barely had any makeup on, yet her lips were glossy and pink. They looked luscious and he wondered if they were still as soft. But it was more than physical longing that he had for her.

She placed the tray noiselessly on the table. She lifted the teapot and poured tea into a matching delicate china teacup. She added some milk into it and stirred the tea quietly without letting the silver spoon touched the cup. When it was well-mixed, she held the cup by its saucer and placed it before him.

He admired how graceful she was in her tea-making. Her long fingers grabbed the spoon so lightly with her pinkie turning up. He noticed her simple casual dressing, just a white cotton v-neck t-shirt with a pair of faded blue jean shorts. He could not see her legs but he could imagine them to be as sun-kissed as her arms. This image was different from the ones in his memory. In his recollection, she was often in her power business suits or her elegant evening gowns. However, if he was to dive deeper into his memory, this image of hers was once there too. Perhaps it was too long ago that he had not remembered about it.

She could feel his eyes running over her. As much as she hoped she could control it, her cheeks blushed at their own will. She stood edgily at the table not knowing what she should do next.

"Please join me." She heard him said.

She took the seat across him, facing the sea. The breeze blew against her and swept her fringe and stray strands of hair from her face. She looked past his shoulders, into the horizon. He continued looking at her. Silence hung over them. Each was thinking of what to say.

Although it was only about a minute when she finally broke the silence, it had felt like an eternity for them. "I hope you still like your tea this way."

"Yes, I do" he replied. "In fact, I still like a lot of things the same way" he added.

She gave a slight nod. Yes, she could see that he was still pretty much the same. He was clad in branded goods as before. Even though she had stopped reading fashion magazines and shopping for branded goods for quite some time, she could tell that each of his gear, ranging from his polo T-shirt, windbreaker and the pair of sunglasses on the table, could have cost a common man more than a month of salary. As she took a closer look at his face, she could see the weariness in his spirit and perhaps his soul. She gave a deep sigh inwardly. She was afraid nothing had changed much.

"I hear that you have been made a partner. Congratulations." She started the conversation rolling again. She was always the conversationist between them. However, there was a time when she could only speak to an empty room or talk to a sleeping body.

"You would have been one too if you have stayed on." He caught her slight frown and almost regretted his last remark. He had to get things right; he had to fix things up. He had always wondered why she had left the firm. She used to have her clients eating out of her hands, countered her opponents beyond words and she convinced the judges superbly, winning their admiration.

She was sick of the hours. She was sick of hearing people’s problems. She was sick of helping people fought for money. As she worked longer, the lines of reason and fairness grew greyer. She was tired of battling with herself that what she did was right. She had wanted to speak to Louis about her thoughts and feelings but he seemed to have adapted so well and he hardly had time to listen to her. In fact, he thought she would have understood his hours and work. She finally found a greater sense of comfort and self-worth when she became a lecturer at the local college. However, as her working hours became shorter, her loneliness increased. She was sad to see him turning into a profit-driven businessman, someone who sold his life and soul for money. How she had used to weep for both of them.

Their moment of awkwardness was interrupted by the arrival of an elderly man. She immediately got up from her seat and helped the old man walked up the few steps to her porch. She settled him down at a table and went in to prepare his food and drink.

The old man and Louis smiled at each other and exchanged their greetings. The former gave Louis a wink and mouthed the words "good taste" just as she returned to his table.

"No egg for you today, Uncle Tom. You already had one yesterday." she said kindly.

"I have my papers and you have your company today, Jessica" he said, "Be a good girl and go over now." She gave him a light pat before rejoining Louis at his table.

He always knew that she was kind and helpful to the elderly but it had been quite some time ago since he last witnessed it. It warmed his heart. He remembered how he loved her for her kindness.

As she settled back into her seat, he asked "So how have you been doing?"

She thought that they were in the earlier topic, and she replied aloofly, "Good enough to get by."

He could sense her negativity and he clammed up again.

This was not going to be easy. As much as he knew it was his fault to have neglected her, there was still an element of anger that he held towards her. She had left him without giving him one last chance to make amends. He had searched for her after her departure and she could not be found. He was left solely to face the queries from their parents, relatives and friends on their break-up and her whereabouts.

He had not told her that he had even turned to alcohol to drown his sorrows. It was when he almost knocked another man down when he was drunk driving that he finally saw the seriousness of his drinking problem. He was fortunate that the man did not make a police report and he had not touch another drop of alcohol ever since.

After she walked away from him, she went into hiding. She had hidden in hotels and even in her university office. She finally decided to travel. It was painful to see the people travelling in pairs during the holiday season. As she moved from one place to another, the acute pain of their break up eventually become an occasional dull ache in her heart. As days went by, she could not deny that she yearned for him yet each time she managed to convince herself not to return to the vicious cycle - staying with him because she was afraid of loneliness would only make her even lonelier.

She finally settled down in this little town by sea. She made new friends. She finally learnt to truly live without him. Somehow the loneliness she experienced was different. This loneliness of not having someone with her was much easier to cope than to know she had him and yet she was alone. She still missed him but she was no longer angry with him. Her disappointment had also dissipated. Yet, at this moment when he was close, she could not trust her own heart again. She wanted to be with him, but she was scared to return to the days of waiting.

He had many questions. The one he wanted to ask most was why she had left him. The one he was most afraid to ask was whether she had already found someone. He finally spoke again, "What have you been doing?"

"I’ve been running this café. I’m starting a book collection in the in-doors section of the café" she replied. "There are so many good stories that I have read and I just want to share them with others" she added excitedly. Her eyes sparkled and her lips curved upwards as she described her plans, her dreams. He had reached that end of the memory lane, and he could recall this was the same expression she had when she told him that she wanted a white Christmas. This was like a long-lost photo which he finally found.

"Can you tell me about one of these stories?" he enquired. It encouraged him that they were conversing again.

She hesitated. There were so many stories that touched her and it was difficult to pick just one to tell him. She finally decided and started, "There is this story titled Nowhere by a writer named Merryweather. This story has a very touching ending. The female protagonist had waited for the male protagonist in their dream place for years." She paused. "And, he finally gave up everything he had to find her." She ended in a softer tone.

"Did he find her?" he asked.

"Yes, he did." she replied. He was listening to her and she was pleased.

"Are you also waiting for me?" he asked, taking a gamble.

She nodded once. As she became conscious of her reaction, a tight smile was formed. What an irony – she left him because she was sick of waiting, yet she ended up waiting just at another venue. Her heart was a parking lot reserved just for him and it had been waiting for his arrival.

"Will you give up what you have?" she asked shakily, risking her heart.

He dug into a pocket of his windbreaker and pulled out a red velvet box. The box was worn out; the soft covering was almost gone from his constant handling. He opened the box and revealed the ring that she had rejected before.

This was the second time she had a look at the ring. She had a better look this round. It was a round solitaire diamond ring. A simple and classic design. She wanted it but she hesitated. "No more waiting?" she asked him straight in the face.

"Nope!" he answered firmly and slipped the ring onto her finger. He grabbed hold of her hands. He was not going to let her go ever again.

"In order to have something, you must first understand how to accept its loss." – lyrics from "At the Foot of Mount Fuji" by Eason Chan

(February 2008)