It was a crisp morning, and though the sun was sitting high above the eastern horizon, Sandra could still feel the cold wind brushing her cheeks as it whispered the last days of the season and the beginning of a new one. All the leaves had fallen from their branches and covered the path that she was taking with a mat of red, yellow, and orange. The songbirds had left and all that she could hear was the sound of brittle leaves breaking into smaller pieces as she walked through the park, with of course the occasional honking of cars passing by. The daffodils and lilies that used to paint the park with bright colors of the rainbow had disappeared under the warmth of the soil, prepared to be covered with the blanket of the first snow.

She cupped her hands in front of her mouth and slowly breathed into them. She could smell the peppermint spray that she used that morning and cursed herself for forgetting her gloves at her friend's house. She thought she did not need them, but as she closed in on her destination, her hands felt colder and colder. She slid her hands into her coat's side pockets. She did this not just to keep them warm but also to make sure they were still there: two things that her friend gave her that morning— her guardians.

After turning one street corner, she stopped and looked at the signage across the street. Chanterelle, it read. Painted in golden yellow Monotype Corsiva set against a plain forest green background, the signage was a little worn out and needed repainting. How long had it been standing there, she asked herself. Seven years? Sandra breathed in as if it were her last before she crossed the street towards the café.

A bell chimed as Sandra opened the door as if inviting her to take another step inside. Unlike the cold of the autumn, the inside of the café was warm and cozy. She took off her coat and folded it in half, taking care not to spill the contents of the pockets. She glanced around the shop. Much had changed since the last time she was here. The cheap steel chairs were now replaced with sturdy black mahogany. The tables were now covered with fine linen with exquisite patterns, and two bookshelves now towered on one side of the shop, stacked full with classic and modern literary works. The counter was refurbished and manned by three people in uniform instead of one.

"Sandra, over here," a man's voice called her.

Sandra turned towards the speaker and found him standing in one corner of the shop. She meandered through the tables and chairs, keeping her eyes on him the whole time. Her heart picked up its pace with every step closer to him. He still looked as good as before, she thought.

"Am I late?" she finally managed to say when she reached him. She checked her watch. "Or you're just early?"

"I'm just early," he said with a smile. "And so are you."

They stood there for a moment longer as if trying to decide whether they should hug, shake hands or kiss. He finally broke the awkward air between them with a hug, which she admittedly wanted to last a few seconds longer. Her nose caught his scent; he still smelled the same, a scent she really liked.

"Please." He motioned for her to take a seat.

"Thank you."

"Should we order first?" he asked.

"I think so," she replied.

Sandra took the menu propped open to her right and leafed through its pages.

"Oh, so they are serving lunch and dinner now," she said, trying to start a conversation.

"Yes. They finally decided to expand the selection."

"Let me see..." Sandra ran her slender finger across the menu. "I'll have cream and mushroom soup, grilled chicken breast with rosemary, strawberry sweet tea, and cream puffs."

"Good choices. Same things for me," he said.

He then called in the waiter and gave him their orders. The waiter repeated their orders and told them that the food would be served after fifteen minutes.

"So, how've you been, Sandra?" he asked as soon as the waiter left.

"I'm good. Still working at the accounting office. How about you? How's England?"

"I'm good and so is England. They still have their queen, you know?"

Sandra chuckled; she always did no matter how shallow his jokes were. She looked back at him and saw his eyes disappear into slits. His eyes were always like that when he laughed. She loved those eyes.

"But seriously, I think there is no place on earth loved by rain so much than England. I mean..."

He continued to talk about how he had suffered from extreme homesickness, and how he managed to deal with it. He talked about the nature of his work and how he was promoted to executive assistant. He went on and on while she sat there quietly, nodding from time to time, and smiling every so often. But at the back of her mind, she wanted to ask him one question and one question only.

Seven years ago, the man sitting in front of her asked her one question in the same shop: Can you be my girlfriend? She was twenty-six then and he was three years younger; he was her first love so she answered yes. He was charming in his own way, always full of surprises and unique ideas. She remembered the first time they celebrated Halloween together. She dressed up as Red Riding Hood while he was the Big Bad Wolf. They sat at the front porch and waited for the children with their baskets. They asked fairy tale questions and handed a pouch of chocolates to children who got correct answers, and a licorice stick to those who failed.

She remembered their first big fight the morning after Christmas, and how they made up before the sun had set. They fought over a petty little thing and promised not to fight over it again. She remembered how they welcomed the new year on the rooftop, standing next to each other as they gazed at the winter sky while they waited for the fireworks. She remembered how her heart exploded with the colorful display that painted the night sky as she shared her first kiss with him. She kissed him again when they woke up the next morning in his apartment, but she lost count of how many times they kissed that night.

Their relationship lasted three months short of a year. He suddenly disappeared and she thought she would go insane. Five days after, he called her telling that he needed space. She was furious and her love for him was consumed by the flames of her hatred. She had so many questions in her head. What happened? Did I do anything wrong? Don't you love me anymore? But all those questions remained unanswered for weeks until he finally knocked on her front door with the answers that she needed. He told her that he still loved her but he was too young to go into a serious relationship. He told her that he felt her sinking too deep into the love that they shared and he wasn't ready for it. He felt that she deserved someone better.

The person in front of her, talking about his life in England, was nothing compared to the boy who had broken her heart. He was wearing his dark blue dress shirt buttoned up to his neck where a light blue necktie added an air of formality. His ruffled hair was no more as every strand was held now in place by wax. Stubble outlined his face, accentuating his masculine features, and his jaw was more prominent than seven years ago. He still had those sparkling steel-grey eyes and thin lips— those lips that once met hers.

The waiter came with their orders and it was her turn to tell him something about the years that he missed.

"Well, I've been working at the accounting office for eight years now," she started while slicing a piece of the grilled chicken breast.

"Still working with Mr. White Ass?"

She chuckled. "Yes, still working with Mr. White. But I do call him by his first name now. Just Ash."

"Ah... he must trust you a lot for him to just let you call him Ash."

"Well, eight years is a long time. Maybe he felt the need to drop the formalities."

"Or, maybe he wanted to level up your relationship," he said with a wink. "If I remember correctly..."

Relationship, she repeated to herself. A vivid memory three years ago flashed in her head. She remembered seeing him again, three years after the breakup. She was looking around the bookstore when she accidentally bumped into him. They exchanged awkward greetings, and she was surprised that she no longer hated him. The flames of hatred she had felt were doused with forgiveness, and the delight of seeing him again sparked a small flame inside her. She remembered him readily accepting her invitation for coffee that day. They talked not of their past but of the present and future, much like what they were doing right now. She found out that he was still single and so was she, and that meeting wasn't the last time.

They met almost every week until the small flame that flickered inside her grew larger and larger as the weeks went by. Finally, after two months, they sealed their relationship with something more than a kiss. Unfortunately, it only lasted for three months as he disappeared again just like the last time. He resurfaced a couple of weeks after, telling her that he received a letter the day he stopped returning her calls. The letter was for his employment in England and he had no idea how to tell her that he had to leave her for the second time.

"Hey, Sandra."

"Hmmm? What?"

"Are you okay?"

"What? Oh... something just crossed my mind."

"As I was saying, I think the two of you will make a lovely couple."

"Who?" she asked.

"You and Ash. Don't you think?"

"Nah, he's too stubborn and I can't tolerate that," she said while forcing a smile. She didn't care if it looked awkward. "And he's not my type."

"What's your type?" he asked.

You, she wanted to answer but instead kept it to herself. She didn't want to sound desperate, though she knew she already was. She loved him since day one, she loved him despite the two heartbreaks that he gave her, she loved him then and she loved him more now. She had been waiting for him all these years. She wanted to tell him that she was still in love with him, but how could she?

"I don't know. You tell me," she teased.

"I think you like a man who is mature, you know, someone who can provide for you. I think you like a man with a good sense of humor, someone who is not sloppy. Someone organized. Good looking, of course. And... kind?" He chuckled.

She chuckled. "All these years, you still don't know what kind of person I like."

"It's because all these years, you didn't tell me."

"I did. You just didn't listen carefully." She took a bite of her cream puff. "Anyway, I heard that you have a girlfriend already." Her words stung her, like a dozen bees swarming inside her.

"Not yet a girlfriend but yes, maybe we'll be taking that direction."

"What's her name?"

"Lily."

"Ah... Lily! Beautiful name. Where did you meet her?"

"At work. Her real name's Elizabeth. There are a lot of girls named Elizabeth in England."

"A lot of lilies in England." That was her poor attempt of a pun, to which he laughed, much to her surprise.

"That was good."

"Thank you. I learned from the best." She motioned to him. She took a sip of her tea and crossed her arms on her side of the table, trying to look interested in the topic. "So, how long have you known each other?"

"Four months. She's a transferee from a different department."

"Oh..." her voice trailed longer than usual.

"We're taking it slow. Still learning each other's personalities."

"Four months is a long time, in my opinion," she said.

"Is it?"

"Yes. Even after four months or maybe a year, you can't completely decipher a person's personality."

"Really?"

"Really."

They talked about Lily over dessert, and Sandra could see in his eyes that he was happy with her. He told her how Lily invited him to her parent's house, and how he met all her brothers, and how they all told him not to break her heart. He told her that Lily's first love had died in a car accident and that she had been miserable for almost a year and a half until she was transferred to his department. All he talked about at that point was Lily, Lily, and Lily. Sandra wanted to tell him to stop because every word about him and Lily was like a dart piercing her heart several times over, but she didn't, because she felt that he was genuinely happy.

The sun had started to set on the horizon and the sky was already painted with orange and indigo when they decided to leave. He asked for the bill and he paid for everything. He walked her out of the shop and asked her if he could walk her home, to which she agreed.

"Oh, you're wearing the leather boots I gave you on our first..." he paused.

"Yes, I am," she said abruptly. "They may look a little aged, but they still fit me perfectly. And you were wearing the cologne that I gave you."

"Nope, that one was already used up. It took me months to find a new one." He pulled his shirt a little and smelled it. "It's always out of stock."

"I think you need a new perfume," she said.

"Why?"

"It doesn't suit you now. You look like an executive assistant but you smell like a..."

"A what?"

"I don't know. A non-executive assistant?"

He laughed. His eyes disappeared as he laughed and his thin lips seemed they would tear apart. She wished that time would just freeze so that moment could linger for a moment longer. It could be the last time she would see those eyes and those lips. They talked as they walked through the park until they reached her house.

"Well, this is me," she announced.

"Here you are, indeed."

"Thank you for accepting my request that we meet before you go back to England," she said with a smile.

"No problem. It's been what? Three years since we last met?"

"Yup. And thank you for walking me home."

"No problem. It's the least that I can do for you." He paused for a moment, a moment that seemed like an eternity. "Sandra, I missed you."

Sandra froze. She felt as if the world suddenly stopped turning. She searched his face for anything that could tell her that he was just bluffing; she found none. For all the times that they had been together, she already knew when he was bluffing; this wasn't one of those times.

"If only I could turn back time, I would do things differently," he added. He took a step forward, reducing the distance between them.

Sandra felt her body tremble. She felt her knees go weak.

"There was never a day that I did not regret leaving you. Maybe I was too young back then, or maybe I was just a fool; but whatever my reasons were, I am really sorry."

Sandra looked directly at his eyes, those eyes that were no longer smiling.

"I... I still love you," he finally said.

Those words reverberated in her head like a thousand echoes. She felt her insides being torn apart. She wanted to cry and throw herself in his arms. Arms that were muscular and no longer as lean as those seven years ago or three years ago; arms that once hugged her to sleep.

She bit the inside of her lip in her attempt to awaken from the madness she was feeling. She forced a smile and replied, "I still love you, too, but..." her voice trailed off.

She took a deep breath to muster all the strength that she had left.

"I am happy to know that you are happy with the woman you liked and that you have grown to be the fine young man you are now. I asked you to meet me because I wanted to find out for myself if I still love you the same way I loved you before. And you know what?" She inhaled the cold air deeply while keeping her tears from pouring out of their ducts. "I realized that no matter what happens, I can never forget you as the first person I have fallen in love with and nobody can replace you here." She pointed at her heart. "But we can't go on in circles. We can't say we never tried. We did but it didn't work out. Twice. Maybe it's about time that we part ways so we can grow to our full potential. And someday, when we see each other again, I hope we can share all these fond memories together and just laugh at them. But for now, I think it's best that we move on with our own lives."

There was an awkward silence between them and the sun was just a sliver over the horizon. Dry autumn leaves rustled pass as the wind blew them away.

"I understand." He looked down for a moment before he looked at her again with the eyes that she adored so much. He extended his right hand. "Friends?" he said with a weak smile.

She took his hand.

"Friends."

And with that, he turned around and walked away. The streetlamps flickered to life, lighting the darkness that was closing in on them. The night breeze blew but it wasn't as cold as before. Sandra dug her hands in her pockets and took out her guardians— the Tarot cards that her friend gave her that morning.

"Hey, Sandra. I'm giving you these two cards as your guide, okay? This one is called The Fool, and this one is called The Lovers. Now that you're meeting him for your quote-unquote closure, please do think very carefully about your actions and decisions. Don't make the same mistakes and don't make decisions that you know you'll regret. There should be a good balance between romantic love and foolish love."

She shoved them back in her pocket and walked inside. After all these years, she finally got the answer to her question.

___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___

Author's Note:  "Can I Stay?" was chosen to be part of 'Beyond Light and Darkness' (Kathbute Anthology vol. 2).  The e-book is available on amazon: http://bit.ly/KathbuteBLAD