After five years, he just happened to be walking down her street?
Tom paused as he neared her small little brownstone house. He wondered if he should maybe stop and see if she was in. But as he stood just outside near her home, he looked at the forest green door, his courage failed him. Instead, Tom turned away from her home, and the memories of their time together flashed through his head.
He remembered the good times; the movie nights on her gray lumpy sofa, their leisurely walks in the park that wasn't far from her home, or the nights where they had fallen asleep on her bed. He frowned as he turned around. And began to walk away.
"Tom," a voice called from behind him.
The tall man froze, he stood stalk still as he recognized that voice. The sweet familiar voice that had a slight lilt but sounded like honey. He couldn't bring himself to turn and face her.
"Tom, is that you?" she called out, as if she was afraid that it might be him.
Tom turned around and looked at her. He easily recognized her, she hadn't changed in the years that they had been apart. Her chocolate brown locks were windblown, and her blue-grey eyes were wide with shock and surprise. She held a paper bag filled with groceries, if he had to guess the contents inside he would say trail mix and salad ingredients. She was very simple when it came to meals.
"Hello, Ella," he said with a heartbroken smile.
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