Hanazono Shrine, Shinjuku

The autumn trees bowed towards the sloping roof of the peaceful shrine. While absorbing the serene energy around her, she closed her eyes in peace. It took her the courage to finally see him again.

Her thoughts traced back to the time when Ethan reached out to her after such a long break.

She was on a flight layover in Sri Lanka, in a random tea shop in Kandi, outside of Colombo, when she received a message on her phone. She and her flight crew had just visited a tea plantation. After a pleasant tour, the guide brought them to a very historical tea factory. She'd been contemplating on a purchase when her phone buzzed. She reached for it in her bag and gasped at what she saw on the screen.

<Ethan W. Finn has sent you a message.>

10:11 > Hi, Nikki. It's me, Ethan. How are you?

She froze. This wasn't a prank. Only Ethan called her by this nickname. And, his profile photo was his old Dodge.

It's him, no doubt.

A sudden longing engulfed her. She'd never received a text message from him. Ever. He never had a social media account either. He did have a phone, though. But he preferred to call her even if she'd leave messages on his phone. And when he would write to her, it would be on paper. He didn't have the most eligible handwriting and wasn't the best speller, but he wrote long, thoughtful, and beautiful letters.

He's changed.

"Madam? Are you taking this bag," asked the plump old lady behind the counter. 

She snapped back and looked at the lady who was wearing a bright yellow sari, holding a small tea sack with a big smile.

"Yes, please. That's Ceylon tea, right?" The wonderful smell of tea wafted through the warm, pleasant air of the Sri Lankan countryside.

"Yes, madam," the old woman confirmed.

"Great, I'm taking it. Thank you, ma'am," she said as she zipped open her sling bag. She dropped her phone inside and pulled out a crumpled envelope where she stored her rupee bills. She'll have to tackle Ethan later. For now, she had to think about what's next on their itinerary. They were scheduled to visit an elephant orphanage which she looked forward to seeing all week.

* * *

After a day well-spent with the gentle giants and a sumptuous meal overlooking the mountains, she and the crew took a taxi home. When they arrived in Negombo, she rushed to her hotel room for a quick shower.

The activities today helped her forget about Ethan and she'd hoped the ride back to the hotel would also help, too. But it didn't. She stared at it the entire time whilst they passed through bumpy roads and the lush green fields. And that brief moment inside the shower didn't help her forget his soft hands doing many wonderful things to her.

She wanted to reply to his message, but she hesitated. She expected nothing good to come out of this. And there was a reason behind it.

Earlier this year, she had a brief love affair with a traveling photographer. His name was Charlie, and they met on a very extraordinary flight layover in Indonesia. When the layover ended, she broke up with him despite his persistence. A month later, she realized she should give their romance a chance. So she emailed him.

To her devastation, he never responded. She felt like an idiot for even attempting to make the first move when he'd already moved on. Since then, she vowed never to make high expectations on men ever again.

Brushing past emotions away, she quickly put on a simple navy blue tube dress and a pair of tan sandals and headed downstairs to meet the crew by the pool for dinner. When she realized how early she was, she decided to take a quick stroll at the beach. She walked past the pool and further down to the seaside, the hotel's lanterns lit to illuminate part of the beach. 

The sun had just disappeared in the horizon. An upside down wooden boat was parked on the shore. The sea was calm that evening, but there was a light breeze that blew little clay pots suspended on bamboo rods. She wondered why they were placed up there.

The horizon quickly turned from orange to indigo darkness. On the left, she noticed a small wooden pier. The structure was too short that it could not even offer a glimpse of the Arabian Sea. A little smile crossed her lips. The flimsy, old landing suddenly reminded her of a crazy, old love story.

It was on a pier where she gave Ethan her heart. It wasn't on an indigo night, but their first sunrise together. Everything was so crisp, so perfect and uncomplicated.

God, I miss those days.

And that's when she felt a nudge. It wasn't as if Ethan was a stranger. She'd known him since she was in college. They've had many glorious memories together, and many years to attest to the strength of their friendship. If she messaged him, this would only mean they were catching up as friends. Nothing else. So she sat on the wooden planks, her legs swinging back and forth as she began to tap on her screen.

18:51 > Hey!

He sat next to a lady wearing a pink pencil skirt and a pair of white ballerina shoes that had little pompoms on the back. The little furry balls reminded him so much of her sleep socks she used to wear whenever she'd sleep over at his place.

As the subway train doors closed, he plugged his earphones and listened to a song from his favorite band, Stoked, while trying to read the kanji symbols on the door. 

Suddenly his phone buzzed. As he stared down on the screen, his heart suddenly stopped.

The message read:
15:21 > Hey!

Without thinking twice, he replied.

> Hey, how are you?
> I'm well, thanks! And you?
> All is well. Listen, can I ring you right now?
<Veronica Ramos is typing a message...>

There was a bit of a pause. She's thinking. Is she hesitating?

Suddenly, she replied.

> Sure!

She didn't have the time to change her mind. The phone rang in a split second.

"Hi," said a deep, familiar voice.

"Hey!" she said, a smile refusing to fade. How could she forget how sexy his voice was?

God, she missed this voice.

"Where are you? Are you in Dubai?" he asked.

"No... Well, yes—I'm still based in Dubai, but I'm in Sri Lanka at the moment," she stammered.

"That's a trip," he chuckled.

"Yeah, it is!" she giggled. " Where are you right now?"

"In a subway train in Tokyo. I live here now," he replied.

"Oh, wow! That's amazing! I love Tokyo layovers," she bit her lower lip. She had to calm herself.

"Well, you should take a trip here again," his voice was getting even sexier. "You know, while I'm still here."

God, I miss you, she thought, but then hesitated. Should she tell him?

She paused for a second, hoping she would make the right move.

"Hey, Ethan?"

"Yeah?"

"I have a flight layover in Tokyo next month," she said with a bit of caution.

"Great, let's meet up," he said in haste, overriding her last word.

Really?"

"I can't wait to see you. Bloody hell, I've missed you so much." He gave out his usual sexy laugh. 

Damn it, the power he had over her.

"I miss you, too," she murmured, giddy with excitement.

Suddenly, she heard someone hollering at her from the shoreline. When she turned to see who it was, it was a man wearing a hotel staff uniform.

"Madam! Madam! It's dangerous there! Please come back." It was a man wearing a hotel staff uniform.

"Ethan, I have to go. I'll be having dinner soon," she said with a light tug in her heart. She didn't want the call to end.

She stood up and carefully walked off the pier and back to the shore with the phone still on her ear.

"Can I give you a ring again sometime?" he asked.

"Yes, um—let's plan Tokyo. Okay?" she reassured him.

"We should. Hey, it's great to hear your voice again, Nikki."

She loved how the nickname he'd given her still rolled in his tongue so sensually after all these years. Many significant scenes flooded her memory after she said goodbye and ended the call.

"Sorry, madam. I was scared you might fall into the water. This is not very strong," the friendly waiter with a local accent smiled nervously bobbed his head as he pointed at the dilapidated structure.

"You're right. That was very foolish of me to even walk on it. Thank you." 

She followed the waiter back to the pool area with a silly grin she couldn't seem to get rid of.

The stunning greens outside seemed to beckon them out of the shrine and back in the gardens. After almost ten minutes of silence, they went down the steps of the shaden and walked towards the lush gardens of the shrine's park. He took her hand and she obliged. Sparks trickled across her body. They walked with their hands clasped together as they basked in a newfound peace. She smiled at him, absorbing his radiance while recalling that short phone call in Sri Lanka that brought them to where they were now.

"How's life treating you in the Middle East?" he looked at her, his green eyes glistening as the sun hit his face.

"It's a tough job, but the lifestyle is exhilarating." She wanted to tell him all about her life.

"You're having fun," he assumed with a smile, his dimples showing.

"I wouldn't be doing this for five years if I wasn't," she laughed.

"I'm happy for you. Do you still paint?" he asked but quickly took it back. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..." he apologized as he placed her hand almost in front of his chest.

"It's alright. It's in the past."

"I just can't imagine you without a paintbrush."

"Well, I haven't held one in three years. Although, I own a range of makeup brushes, if that counts," she said but quickly realizing that she shouldn't have mentioned it. "I'm sorry..."

Fortunately, time healed a little, they could talk openly about it.

"You must wear makeup everyday now," his voice changed.

He must have seen those gigantic billboards of her airline. The models wore thick makeup behind their pearly-white smiles. She knew he didn't like the her looking like them. But then, this was who she was now.

"I don't think you'll like seeing me in my work outfit." She suddenly sounded like her old self in college; the idea of being in his possession.

"Why not?" he asked.

"I have to wear a good amount of makeup to be taken seriously by my colleagues and high profile customers."

"You don't need a gob of cake on your face to gain respect."

"It's part of my job," she replied in defense.

"I'm sorry," he blurted as they stopped on a little bridge.

"What are you sorry for?" she asked as they continued to hold hands.

"For making you feel like you couldn't express yourself as much as you wanted to when we were together," he said softly.

"You don't need to apologize. I never really enjoyed wearing makeup, anyway," she said cautiously. She let go of his hand and held the thick wooden rails of the bridge.

It surprised her he was more mellow now. Back then, it perplexed her when he would react violently whenever she'd wear makeup for an occasion.

"That's what I always love about you," he said as they both watched the water flow down the brook and under the bridge.

"I'm not the same girl anymore. I've changed so much since I left the States."

She had to be clear; she was different now.

"Did you stop painting because of me?" he asked, knowing what the answer was.

"Yes." She couldn't help but allow a bit of hurt to filter in.

"Painting was your life. I'm sorry for taking that away from you," he said with pain and regret in his eyes.

"Don't be too hard on yourself. It was my decision," she said with a convincing tone.

Ethan couldn't stop looking at her. She was always a sight to behold. And all he wanted to do was kiss her right now. But his guilt was killing him. She was a brilliant artist and he stripped it away from her. He'd hurt her in so many ways.

"You've always said you wanted to live overseas. And here you are fulfilling your goal," she said, breaking the heavy moment. She still had the skill in changing subjects with perfect timing.

With such beautiful weather, wallowing in the bitter past would not do them good. She took his hand as they left the bridge and continued on to the path.

"And you wanted to see the world as a lone traveler," he added.

"Isn't it funny how everything turned out for us?" she chuckled as she admired the beautiful trees around them.

"Ah! A comedy about a callow, young man who could have had everything. He had a thriving career and a perfect life, surrounded by all the people he loved. He had the girl of his dreams, his heart and his soul, and they were madly in love. But he welcomed his demons back. His life crumbles yet again, and all was lost. Because life does not want to quit on him, he gets another chance; he opens his eyes to see his dream girl yet again. He tries his best to be happy for her because she was happy on her own. He continues to live in an empty shell, trying to breathe in its confines. Life is full of tragic comedies," he narrated with so much calmness.

The sound of the cascading waters nearby filled the tranquil mood. Yet her heart bled, knowing he was still plagued with depression.

"But I'm living one day at a time," he let out a hollow laughter.

"You know what I meant when I said you're a mess, right?" Her hands reached out to him. 

"You're the only one who can say that to me and I'd still feel like I'm the king of the world," he smiled.

"You were this wild and broken soul, quirkily molded and seemingly lost. And I was this naïve, inexperienced girl who hadn't a clue how to live. But I fell in love with you because you gave me what I was looking for. God, I was crazy about you. You taught me to love and make love."

"Did the feelings change?" He looked at her, trying to find truth in her eyes.

She shook her head. "You're the most perfect, most beautiful mess I have ever met."

"I don't think I deserve you. I've hurt you so much," he said with mist in his eyes.

"Ethan, I left you when you needed me the most."

"You didn't. I pushed you away. You loved me more than what I deserved. And this breaks me every single day. Because the truth is, I've never stop loving you, Veronica. My love for you will last lifetimes."

They were both in tears as they clung to each other, fearful that the unpredictable breeze would drive them apart once again. 

"Ethan," she whispered as he lifted her chin and gazed deep into her blue-green eyes. 

Veronica couldn't take it any longer. She pulled him closer and kissed him under the giant Gingko tree. Ethan held her face, and buried his lips on hers. She felt his pain dissolve as they reunited under a huge canopy of leaves.  

Confetti of red-orange leaves showered upon them, a bright promise painted the clear skies. Like flower girls in an autumn wedding, the trees celebrated their reconciliation.