For days I thought about him. I didn't want to call him or send a text when the reminder of his name would ache across my screen. Yet secretly, I wished he would still reach out. And on that third day when he did, it was an invitation I couldn't refuse. A chance for closure to something that could have been all those years ago. Maybe, dare I hope, could be even now?

Rome Pastaciutta is where we have dinner together. It's a nice Italian restaurant in a bittersweet corner of town. The inside has fresh brick walls, lantern lights that hang from the ceiling, and a sweet piano melody plays from the speakers. Sitting across from Alex at our carmine-clothed table for two, neither of us has said a word since our food arrived. I peek at him through my eyelashes as he mindlessly suffocates his spaghetti with a mountain of parmesan.

"Would you like some pasta with your cheese?"

He smirks and I grow a bit happy knowing I can still make him smile.

"So Cara-"

"Lisa," I interject. "I go by Lisa now."

It takes a while for him to make the connection and when he does he looks sad.

"Oh. Well, Lisa, what do you do? Are you, " his voice tapers, "in film?"

The small lump of spaghetti in my throat grows dry and hard to swallow. "Yeah, I'm editing on a couple of small projects right now." I twirl my noodles around my fork, staring down at my plate. I wonder if he went after his dreams like we promised each other. I'm scared to ask, scared that he's become someone completely different. With a muster of courage, I manage to get out the words.

"What about you?"

His compelling hazel eyes meet my glistening cocoa ones.

"I've been working as a photographer."

Inside, my heart dances at the news, but I don't know whether to let him know that I'm happy. Should I show my emotions this time, or keep them safe?

Throughout the evening, we can't get past anything but small talk. There's tension behind every word said, pain when we lock eyes. And as the check comes a deep throb in my chest grows knowing that this might really be it. I don't know if I'll survive if things end like this again. I can see uncertainty in Alex's eyes as we split the check. Does he really want to leave like this?

Outside it has begun to drizzle. Another blue-dyed memento.

"Goodbye." I turn before he has the chance to say it back.

All these coincidences were bringing back nothing but memories of that day. The rain which had dampened my hair and made his curls stick to his forehead. This area in town which is only minutes away from the place Alex had taken the virginity from my lips and heart. And it was there that he left me alone, broken. But the biggest coincidence of all was encountering him on the boardwalk of Sant Monica, five years and three thousand miles later. I had hoped this was fate. I had dreamed of this moment for so long and now it is going to slip through my fingers like tiny grains of sand from the beach. No, this couldn't be it.

"Cara!"

Alex's voice calls out to me a few feet away on the sidewalk. When I swivel to see him, the look on his face is one I have never seen before, not even in all those years of moments we shared during school.

He hadn't moved from the spot I told him goodbye, but now he strides toward me with vigor. Alex stops a foot away, his face leans only inches from mine. For seconds all I can feel is the desperate intensity his hazels bare. I'm overwhelmed to know his emotions match mine. My eyes are beginning to fill again, but this time I have no desire to fight them away.

"Cara," his voice is low and shaky. "I remember everything. I have never forgotten you."

The beat of a car passing. A tear falls through my lids. I put myself against him as I can no longer stand the distance.

"I didn't forget either."

Time seems to be slowing down. The rain's easy drops are comforting.

"Come with me."

His tanned hands take my smaller, darker ones and he begins to lead me away to that familiar corner in town that I had avoided for so long and couldn't stop thinking about.