A glance is always furtive ........ how it started

I read through @stellabelle's post on the secret affair and it sparked something in me ...

It started with a glance. A look. Another glance. A furtive glance (because glances are always furtive, aren't they?), The noise in the room faded as I caught her eye - this was the person behind the email, the unreturned phone calls, the requests for help. But in a single moment, an introduction, the seeds of the affair were planted.

"So", I said, "it is you, YOU are Yvette".

Time paused, our glasses of wine were strangely askew, the liquid tilting and swirling, as we pondered each other. It happened in a moment, an exchange of expression, a furtive glance. 

"Anyway", I said, "I am so glad we met".

"Where are you going?", she said.

I hesitated, "I have to catch up with a few people now before this thing wraps up." This was mostly true. It was an annual event and there were a bunch of people to see.

"Ok", she said.

I wandered off, exploring my mind and asking, "what the fuck just happened?". I am married, happy, working hard, looking for new challenges, pretty content .... mostly. But in that instant, I wanted her. Her blue eyes, open expression, slightly blonde curls framed a face that made me want to explore her more.

I shook myself  out of this state of mind, and focussed on the usual bullshit of networking, making empty promises, committing to things i knew we never do and observed the usual sycophants selling their souls to climb the greasy pole: exaggerated hand gestures, smiles that cracked their faces open like walnuts, voices pitched just a little too high, betraying lies and nerves.

I looked around. Where was she? Gone. Fuck.

The night wrapped up. We made a last grab for the final wine that we didn't need, and proceeded to plan the next 5 hours out before we grabbed some shuteye before the next day of vaporous, content free presentations.

Was she around? No, Fuck.

I headed off with a mate for  a beer, and perhaps a sneaky cigarette, walking out of the hotel foyer with a few other, equally pissed, colleagues.

Is she here? Yes. Fuck.

I peeled off and caught up with her. "Hi, she said. "Hey", I said (so imaginative of me)

I had been out of the game for so long, but it felt easy, comfortable with her. And i noticed her wedding ring. She gave me a glance, a furtive glance, as we sidled off to a bar down a side street. This is getting dangerous, I thought, but I couldn't control myself: I felt like i was 19 again - ALL of me felt I was 19 again.

That was 2 and a half years ago ....... and she still makes me feel light, happy and alive and i love her wild mind. To quote Katherine Mansfield, "the mind I love must have wild places, a tangled orchard where dark damsons drop in the heavy grass, an overgrown little wood, the chance of a snake or two, a pool that nobody's fathomed the depth of, and paths threaded with flowers planted by the mind"