“So this is it?”

She watched the rain slash against the windows, the window shield wipers swishing softly.
“I mean…” She turned to him, trying foolishly to believe her own words. “It wouldn’t have worked anyway.”

The sentence sat between them, clearly unfinished.

She opened her mouth to say more, but the words refused to come. Or perhaps she refused them, afraid that once spoken, they would harden into fact.

He fidgeted.
He tapped his fingers against the dashboard. He folded and unfolded a tissue stained with the oily red stain from their favourite momo place downtown. His eyes kept moving- anywhere but her face, terrified that he’d never stop staring if his gaze drifted there.

“Do you like watches?”

She blinked. “I’m sorry?”

He looked at her then, really looked at her. His hands stilled, the noise in him settling all at once. And he repeated the question solemnly and slowly, as if it was the most crucial and logical thing to ask.

“Are you a fan of watches?”

“Yes?” She frowned. The question felt wildly out of place, suspended awkwardly in the wreckage of their previous conversation. “I wear them, but typically only silver bands. Not a huge fan of gold.”

“Oh.” He cleared his throat, reaching out to the back seat and pulling out a flat Titan box wordlessly.

She glanced at his extended hand, into his eyes, then back again. Finally, gingerly, as one would accept crumbling sand, she took the box. Opened it. Inside, snuggled in velvety casing, was a watch with a thin golden band and tiny, elegant numbers. “Oh…” She trailed off.

“I know,” he said quickly. “You don’t like gold. But this one just seemed right.”
Then, under his breath, he added, “I thought… at least this way you won’t be late everywhere.”

Her breath hitched, half-laughing.

Their eyes crashed, hearts stuttering in harmony, and written in them was the truth that they’d perhaps never have the chance to look at each other like that again.

Swallowing, she slipped the watch onto her wrist. It fit perfectly. “It’s beautiful.”

He nodded, allowing himself no more than that.

The wipers kept swishing and the rain kept falling as she glanced at him once more and got out of the car, the watch cool on her wrist. She didn’t seem to notice the downpour soaking her through.

Many, many years later…

It’s raining again.

“Mom, where’d you get this watch from?” I ask, twisting the thin golden band around my wrist. “I don’t remember seeing it before.”

She looks up from her laptop. A smile tips the edges of her lips upwards, letting a small laugh bubble out. “Your dad, he gave it to me. Many years ago.”

I grin. “Valentine’s Day gift?”

“Something like that, though… more of a parting gift.”

I look at her then, and see something shift in her eyes, as though the ticking of the watch has pulled her back through time. In the depth of that look, it’s clear that the watch shows far more than just time.

---

Yours truly,
Divi