It was the perfect relationship. We had romance and intrigue. We ate together night after night in a row at delicious restaurants. We laughed and shared secrets and inside jokes together about coworkers and ex-spouses. We shared our philosophy of life together. We shopped for clothes together (a t-shirt at the sushi restaurant counts!). We stayed up late in groups and laughed and flirted outrageously. We had plenty of, some… ok, just a little tiny bit of physical affection.
We noticed each other across crowded rooms with heart-throbbing winks and smiles. We teased each other and argued over little things, but only with extreme kindness when we had to disagree. When in groups, we usually finagled to sit next to each other, pretending to focus on someone else’s words while our knees touched with longing. We had intimate conversations about our kids, our divorces, and our relationship history. We shared our passion for books and outdoor activities and made suggestions to each other about what the other would like.
We did not say everything, or stay up all night together. But we shared enough to have that magnetic closeness that drew us together in groups and caused extreme shyness and complete blabbering like an idiot when alone. I memorized his face, the sound of his voice, and there was enough mystery that we wanted to hear more and share more.
Then it all ended, so easily really. The business trip was over. We went back to our lives after consummation with a (too short) kiss. It all stopped just in time, before anyone could feel resentful about calls unreturned, gifts ungiven, or plans not made. No one had time to whine that they wanted “just a little more time together”. No one disagreed about who should or should not pick up the check, so money never got in the way. There was not enough time for miscommunication or misunderstandings. No chances for jealousy or hurt. Egos never entered the scene.