It had been a dry summer and I knew where to find her.
She stood with her back to me, face toward the trees that formed an arc that ran clockwise North to South, but turned up letting a cascade pour over her. Maybe washing her anger away. Maybe the water hid the tears I had stupidly caused.
I didn’t want to lose her. I’d never loved anyone… anything as much as her. The wanting… the needing… frightened me. Being single, unattached, previous nebulous relationships had never mattered. Then I met her–was with her–and then when she was gone, that stab and ache for what I once had showed me what alone felt like. I stepped into the circle of jets and under the umbrella formed by mist and drops. I paused, water coursing down my face, and said what was in my heart. “I’m sorry, Rose… so sorry. Please forgive me.” She turned as I moved closer. I had to tell her. “I love you.”
Her look was steady, then slowly the smile that meant so much to me spread on her face like a flower unfolding after a freshening spring shower. She leaned into my arms–I caught her–and we danced under an artificial rain.