The sound of a woman's heels echoed behind me - sharp, quick, drawing closer. I turned around. It was Sara. She was slightly out of breath, standing right in front of me, staring, speechless.
Michael: Why do you want to come with me?
Sara: Because something inside me was screaming not to let you walk away.
Michael: So wherever I go, you'll follow?
Sara: Mm-hmm.
Michael: Alright then. There's a park nearby. We can go there and talk.
Sara: Actually, I know a café close to here. It's a better place to talk.
Michael: Fine. Let's go there.
She walked beside me, close - too close - as if something lurking in the darkness terrified her. Had she changed? Or had I just never really known her at all? Everything felt surreal, senseless… The girl whose name had been embedded in my heart for years - merely a name, a distant silhouette - was now radiating a heat, a longing so intense that she was willing to follow me anywhere.
Things became even stranger. The street we were walking down was empty. No cafés. Not even pedestrians. She entered a narrow alleyway. She took off her leather coat and dropped it on the ground. Then her bag. She turned toward me and stepped closer. She grabbed my hand and led me toward the end of the alley.
Her fingers were trembling, but not from fear. Something else. Something burning beneath her calm surface.
She reached for my shirt, unbuttoning it, her lips finding mine with desperate hunger. And I… I wanted it too. After all this time… the only thing that could erase the ache in my bones, the exhaustion in my soul… was the feeling of her skin beneath my hands.
We were lost in the heat of the moment when suddenly - she pulled a knife from her boot and pressed the cold blade against my neck.
Sara: After all this time, you show up now and say you loved me? You don't even know me. You couldn't even remember my name. How dare you claim you ever loved me?
Michael: I know you love to dance. I know you still can't tie your bootlaces and tuck them into your boots instead. I know when you smile, a dimple appears only on your left cheek. I told you - there's a lot you don't know.
Sara: If you loved me that much, then why didn't you ever say anything?
Michael: It wasn't as simple as you think.
Sara: Then how was it? I will never forgive you. You have no idea what I've been through because of you. Do you know how many times I was forced - against my will - to give my body away to despicable men? Do you know how alone I was? Look at this - She lifted her dress - this scar on my stomach means I can never have children. Can you even imagine the pain I endured? (she dragged the knife across my chest) This is just one percent of the pain you deserve. All because it "wasn't easy" for you? Because I was a child of divorce? Because my father cheated on my mother? None of that was my fault. I wasn't to blame. Why didn't you say something? Why?!
I froze. Her rage was raw, tangled with years of grief and abandonment. Tears streamed down her face even as she clenched the knife. I gently reached for her wrist, trying to lower the blade - but she flinched and slashed my hand. The moment she did, her eyes widened in shock. She hadn't meant to hurt me. Her hands began to shake violently. Her breathing broke into gasps. She couldn't stop crying, couldn't control her trembling or her anger. She collapsed.