It was the end of our holiday. Neither of us had expected it to turn into the most epic first date. A two week blissed-out road trip full of fun, laughter and amazing sex in one of the most incredible places in the world. It was romance-novel worthy (if that novel included lots of hiking and camping and much less glamour).
At that point I didn’t know what it meant, whether it would go anywhere or what I actually wanted. I needed to go home to see how I felt. But I was sad. We’d gone from friends to lovers in one easy jump that felt so right and now here I was, having to say goodbye.
We sat in the airport for as long as we could, hands and legs intertwined, before I had to go. Sat on the stripy chairs, I didn’t want to say goodbye. I so desperately wanted and yet didn’t want to ask what it meant or how he felt. That could wait; I wasn’t ready to hear the answer.
It was my birthday that day, and he handed me a box.
“Happy birthday” he said, with a smile.
“Oh. You didn’t have to get me anything.” I said, looking up at him.
“I know. But I wanted to.” he replied.
I opened the box. Inside was the most beautiful pounamu pendant I’d ever seen. Small and delicate yet strong.
“Ohhhhhhhh.” I gasped. “It’s beautiful.”
He smiled. “It’s two symbols together. It means friendship or intertwined lovers and new beginnings.”
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