It was the smell that caught my attention first, that wet Saturday afternoon. I’d caught her out by arriving early and she was still drying her hair.

The sweet-shop smell of her shampoo still fresh in her warm hair as she came to the door.

Over the years, I’ve rarely experienced that delicate bouquet, and when I have, a vision of her, half-dressed in her bedroom when we were together.

And I smile inside a smile I secretly hold dear within me, all these years later.

And then, I chose to end it all, after all we went through.