No Second Chances

"Just a minute," I called towards the door when I heard the knock. I could feel my brow crinkle with confusion. Nobody that I knew would be coming around in the afternoon; they all had regular jobs that kept them busy. 'It's probably some door to door sales person,' I thought absently as I quickly finished typing out the last paragraph that I was working on and closed the lid to my laptop. I pulled a sweater on over my thin shirt as I stood up; the weather had gotten chilly recently and I didn't want to get sick. I was way too busy for that.

The knock sounded again on the pale oak of the front door.

"Yes? How can I..." My words died on my lips as my eyes fell on the man standing on my doorstep. A man I hadn't seen in four years.

"John," I whispered in shock.

"Hello Chris," he said, his mouth pulling into a crooked smile. A smile that I knew as well as if it were my own.

I was too stunned to even respond. A thousand memories and feelings connected to that smile stampeded across my mind.

"Chris?"

It was almost as if I heard him from a distance, his voice faint, an undercurrent to the rush of blood in my ears. "Chris? Are you alright?" he asked when I didn't move.

I jumped like I had been electrocuted when I felt his fingers brush my arm in concern.

My eyes once again focused on what was in front of me, "What are you doing here John?" I took a step back so that I was firmly out of reach. I didn't know how he had found me or even why he was here.

"I wanted to talk to you," he said as he folded his arms across his body, as if to keep his hands to himself.

"So talk."

"Chris, I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry," he began.

"It's Christina," I interrupted him, "please don't call me Chris. Nobody calls me Chris anymore."

'Nobody since you,' I thought to myself.

"Okay, Christina," he almost stumbled over my full name, "I wanted to tell you that I was sorry, that I was completely in the wrong..."

His voice faded into the background again as the memories of that night so many years ago played across my mind.
********

Most of the memories of that day were fuzzy, distorted, and even missing, but what I did remember was that it had been raining that day, the moisture was thick in the cool September air and the sun was playing peek-a-boo in the clouds. I remembered waiting for him. He had promised to meet me, that he had something to tell me. I remember sitting on our bench in the park, my coat pulled tight around me, and waiting.

I was still waiting when the sun went down, and when the rain began to pound harder. I remember being puzzled, and then worried, and then angry. And I remember realizing that he wasn't coming. So I went home.

I expected him to call. He never did. And I never saw him again. Until today.

"Can you forgive me Christina?"

I focused on him again. "I'm sorry John, but it doesn't work like that. You don't get to destroy someones life and then get to waltz back in as if nothing had ever happened."

"Chris..."

"It's Christina!" I almost shouted. "Chris stopped existing a long time ago. She stopped existing the day you left," I finished quietly, barely more than a whisper. I could feel the tears beginning to pool, but I would never let him see them.

"I'm sorry John, but there are no second chances," I said as I slowly closed the door on my past.