It was merely a moment of tangency. She there, he here, they were never going to be close, never hear the sultry whispers in the other’s ear, never. It didn’t begin that way. It began with what romantics refer to as being struck, a lightning bolt of realization they were meant for each other.
There was no afternoon on the veranda, no slight brush of eyelashes on cheeks, no actual meeting. But there were butterflies swaying inside their bodies. There were sensual voices, dilated pupils in the dark, and beaded sweat on mocha skin. These sensations were caused by words, some written, some spoken, and odd hours of togetherness.
Distance between them made actual life together impossible. This odd relationship, unplanned and incomplete, was the result. There was no malice, no forethought of how circumstances would never change. It was the result of a chance meeting and an irresistible impulse. They found in each other what they never knew they had missed, what they thought they would never have–a soulmate.