Red Writing Hood: Always on My Mind

Prompt: Seeing your ex at the grocery store (from the male perspective).

Oh my god. It’s HER. My mind begins spinning as I turn the corner of the aisle. What is she doing back in town?

The world around me clouds over, the vision of the neatly stacked shelves of spaghetti sauce slowly fades from sight. Her face above me slowly comes into focus. She is sweating, her blonde hair sticking to her face. Her body moves rhythmically with mine. She gasps , shudders, and I hear myself groaning in the wave of climax that rushes through my body. I watch her collapse next to me, running her fingers softly through my chest hair. "You rock my world," she whispers. I remember her getting up, tears running down her face as she dressed and disappeared. Forever.

Or so I thought. I couldn’t deny that she was standing right there in front of me looking as gorgeous as she was the day she left me. Why is she here?  I couldn’t stop myself from thinking. She crushed my heart when she left. I spent a lot of time with the wrong girls in my bed trying to get over her. Not even drowning my misery in a bottle of whiskey over and over again could erase her from my memory.

And here she is in the flesh. I duck my head as she passes by, leaving a trail of her perfume in her wake. She still wears the same perfume. The perfume that could send me out of a bar, leaving my date and my whiskey behind. A song comes on the overhead speaker. I ignore it as I watch her walk down the produce aisle. She takes her time, walking slowly, as if she can feel my eyes watching her. Does she know it’s me? Does she remember?  My mind plays tricks on me, imagining that she smiled at me. I watch her test the firmness of the apple she is looking at. I watch her mouth as she brings the apple to her face.

And there I see it. The single piece of jewelry melded together on her left hand. The stone is large, square, clear. The band is gracefully wrapped in diamonds. Worthy of her. Worthy of her. You weren’t worthy.The chorus of the song playing catches my ears. “You were always on my mind”. Our song. Oh, man. Why this song? Why now?

“Hi. I’d like to make an appointment with Dr. Jones. I haven’t been in awhile.”