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“I Didn’t Think I’d Ever See You Again”
The late afternoon sun cast long shadows over the seaside park, its golden rays dancing on the waves. Prairie sat on a weathered bench, a notebook balanced on her lap. Her pen hovered over the page, where half-formed thoughts and fragmented lines tangled together, much like the emotions she tried to bury for the last nine years.
She gazed out at the ocean, letting its rhythm calm her, as she scribbled a line that she’d been toying with: The things we leave behind never stop calling to us.
A soft breeze swept past, carrying with it the sounds of children laughing in the distance. It was just another day, another moment, until a voice—familiar, deep, with a warmth that tugged at a place in her chest she hadn’t visited in years—cut through the hum of the crowd.
She froze, her pen stilled in mid-air. Slowly, she turned toward the sound, her heart picking up speed in her chest. And there, not far off, was Aldrin. Time had softened him, but there was no mistaking the man she had once loved. He was kneeling in the grass, chasing after a little girl with curls bouncing around her face, the same laughter that had stopped her heart spilling from his lips.
A sudden rush of memories overwhelmed her, and before she could pull herself together, Aldrin looked up. Their eyes met across the distance, and in that single glance, the weight of nine years seemed to collapse in on itself. He paused, recognition flooding his face. His smile faded, replaced by something more complicated, something closer to regret.
She closed her notebook, her hands trembling as she stood.
“Prairie,” he said softly, as though testing the word on his tongue, like he wasn’t sure if it was real.
She stepped toward him, her voice barely a whisper. “Aldrin.”
For a moment, they just stood there, the air between them thick with everything they’d left unsaid. The little girl tugged at Aldrin’s hand, oblivious to the tension building between them. He scooped her up, offering her a playful grin, but his eyes remained on Prairie.
“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again,” he admitted, his voice low, filled with something she couldn’t quite place.
She nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. “Neither did I.”
Aldrin looked at her, really looked at her, and she could see the same questions flickering in his gaze. How had they ended up here? How had nine years passed, and yet the ache between them still felt so fresh, like an old wound that never quite healed?
“I didn’t know you had a daughter,” Prairie said, her voice catching.
“Yeah,” he replied, glancing at the little girl in his arms. “This is—”
Before he could finish, the sound of footsteps broke the moment. A woman approached, balancing two ice creams in her hands, her eyes bright with amusement. She called out to the little girl, “Prairie, look what I got you!”
Prairie’s breath hitched in her chest. She looked between the girl, the woman, and Aldrin, her mind spinning.
The woman smiled warmly as she handed the ice cream to the child. She then turned toward Prairie with a curious expression, sensing the charged atmosphere. “Hi, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” she said lightly, her eyes flicking between Aldrin and Prairie. “Do you two know each other?”
There was a brief silence. Aldrin hesitated, his eyes searching Prairie’s face. The weight of the moment hung between them, heavy and bittersweet. She could see the conflict in his expression, the regret mingled with something else—remorse, maybe, or a deep sadness for the life they’d never had.
Before Aldrin could speak, Prairie smiled faintly, the words slipping out of her before she could stop them. “We’re… old friends.”
The woman’s smile widened. “Well, it’s always nice to run into an old friend,” she said, before turning her attention back to their daughter, Prairie. “Come on, let’s go sit by the water.”
Aldrin lingered for a moment longer, his eyes locked with Prairie’s. The little girl, his daughter, giggled as she ran ahead, her ice cream dripping down her hand. His wife followed, oblivious to the storm of emotions that swirled between the two.
Prairie swallowed hard, her heart aching with everything she couldn’t say. She had broken up with her husband years ago, searching for Aldrin in a world that had moved on without them. The pain of that unfulfilled search had left scars, but seeing Aldrin now, with a life built around someone else, was a new kind of agony.
“I should go,” she whispered, breaking the silence.
“Prairie…” Aldrin began, his voice trailing off as if he wanted to say more, but couldn’t find the words.
She shook her head, giving him one last glance, her heart heavy with the weight of everything they could never have. “Goodbye, Aldrin.”
As she turned and walked away, the sound of the waves crashing against the shore echoed the emptiness that had settled in her chest. She didn’t look back, but she didn’t need to. The regrets of what might have been followed her, every step of the way.
The wind carried her footsteps away, but as Aldrin watched her leave, the words he wanted to say remained unsaid, lost in the space between them. The weight of his own decisions pressed down on him, the echo of their shared past a constant reminder of the paths they had chosen—and the one they could never walk again.
© reddragonfly
#AldrinxPrairie #forbiddenlove
She gazed out at the ocean, letting its rhythm calm her, as she scribbled a line that she’d been toying with: The things we leave behind never stop calling to us.
A soft breeze swept past, carrying with it the sounds of children laughing in the distance. It was just another day, another moment, until a voice—familiar, deep, with a warmth that tugged at a place in her chest she hadn’t visited in years—cut through the hum of the crowd.
She froze, her pen stilled in mid-air. Slowly, she turned toward the sound, her heart picking up speed in her chest. And there, not far off, was Aldrin. Time had softened him, but there was no mistaking the man she had once loved. He was kneeling in the grass, chasing after a little girl with curls bouncing around her face, the same laughter that had stopped her heart spilling from his lips.
A sudden rush of memories overwhelmed her, and before she could pull herself together, Aldrin looked up. Their eyes met across the distance, and in that single glance, the weight of nine years seemed to collapse in on itself. He paused, recognition flooding his face. His smile faded, replaced by something more complicated, something closer to regret.
She closed her notebook, her hands trembling as she stood.
“Prairie,” he said softly, as though testing the word on his tongue, like he wasn’t sure if it was real.
She stepped toward him, her voice barely a whisper. “Aldrin.”
For a moment, they just stood there, the air between them thick with everything they’d left unsaid. The little girl tugged at Aldrin’s hand, oblivious to the tension building between them. He scooped her up, offering her a playful grin, but his eyes remained on Prairie.
“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again,” he admitted, his voice low, filled with something she couldn’t quite place.
She nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. “Neither did I.”
Aldrin looked at her, really looked at her, and she could see the same questions flickering in his gaze. How had they ended up here? How had nine years passed, and yet the ache between them still felt so fresh, like an old wound that never quite healed?
“I didn’t know you had a daughter,” Prairie said, her voice catching.
“Yeah,” he replied, glancing at the little girl in his arms. “This is—”
Before he could finish, the sound of footsteps broke the moment. A woman approached, balancing two ice creams in her hands, her eyes bright with amusement. She called out to the little girl, “Prairie, look what I got you!”
Prairie’s breath hitched in her chest. She looked between the girl, the woman, and Aldrin, her mind spinning.
The woman smiled warmly as she handed the ice cream to the child. She then turned toward Prairie with a curious expression, sensing the charged atmosphere. “Hi, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” she said lightly, her eyes flicking between Aldrin and Prairie. “Do you two know each other?”
There was a brief silence. Aldrin hesitated, his eyes searching Prairie’s face. The weight of the moment hung between them, heavy and bittersweet. She could see the conflict in his expression, the regret mingled with something else—remorse, maybe, or a deep sadness for the life they’d never had.
Before Aldrin could speak, Prairie smiled faintly, the words slipping out of her before she could stop them. “We’re… old friends.”
The woman’s smile widened. “Well, it’s always nice to run into an old friend,” she said, before turning her attention back to their daughter, Prairie. “Come on, let’s go sit by the water.”
Aldrin lingered for a moment longer, his eyes locked with Prairie’s. The little girl, his daughter, giggled as she ran ahead, her ice cream dripping down her hand. His wife followed, oblivious to the storm of emotions that swirled between the two.
Prairie swallowed hard, her heart aching with everything she couldn’t say. She had broken up with her husband years ago, searching for Aldrin in a world that had moved on without them. The pain of that unfulfilled search had left scars, but seeing Aldrin now, with a life built around someone else, was a new kind of agony.
“I should go,” she whispered, breaking the silence.
“Prairie…” Aldrin began, his voice trailing off as if he wanted to say more, but couldn’t find the words.
She shook her head, giving him one last glance, her heart heavy with the weight of everything they could never have. “Goodbye, Aldrin.”
As she turned and walked away, the sound of the waves crashing against the shore echoed the emptiness that had settled in her chest. She didn’t look back, but she didn’t need to. The regrets of what might have been followed her, every step of the way.
The wind carried her footsteps away, but as Aldrin watched her leave, the words he wanted to say remained unsaid, lost in the space between them. The weight of his own decisions pressed down on him, the echo of their shared past a constant reminder of the paths they had chosen—and the one they could never walk again.
© reddragonfly
#AldrinxPrairie #forbiddenlove
