We spent the rest of the day meandering around London in no particular direction.  The easy friendship that had always existed between us hadn’t changed, and we had as much to talk about as we had the previous day.  At times I found it hard to take my eyes off her, her gentle smile, the kindness in her eyes.  She talked with so much life and enthusiasm and I felt my heart skip a beat when she linked her arm through mine and stared up at me.  

          I wondered if she was feeling the same.  I had to catch myself as I felt my eyes staring into hers, wanting to look on forever.  Was it possible to fall in love in heartbeat?  But then to me, it wasn’t a heartbeat.  I felt as though I’d known her my whole life.  The twelve years apart didn’t seem to exist, and I felt as though everything I needed was right here in front of me, sipping a coffee and talking about a life, that somehow, impossibly, I hadn’t been part of. Suddenly I wanted to know everything, every person she’d ever known, every day she’d spent without me.  All her happiness and sadness, her triumphs, I needed to know it all.

          “Liam?”

          I jolted out of my thoughts and grinned at her, determined not to let on what I had been thinking.  She was my friend, one of the best friends I’d ever had, and I was not going to lose that again.

          “Sorry,” I said, “It’s just you’ve been talking all day and it’s kind of exhausting,” I added with a tease, silently trying to deflect from my own thoughts, afraid that I might give myself away.