I ran into him at one of our favorite restaurants. He looked so handsome in his wool Paul Smith blazer. There were no awkward pauses or silences filled with sadness. We had been divorced for almost seven years now but we were together for almost twenty. Our paths hadn't crossed in quite some time and his looks held up and apparently so had my desire for him. Every word spoken found me stepping closer to him.
His new wife, an old friend of mine, spotted us conversing by the entrance but she did nothing more than give me a few curt glances before excusing herself to the restroom. Once she was gone, I promptly kissed him firmly on the lips. He tensed up and I know I should have pulled back, but his lips tasted just like the first time. I began to push him away but stopped to whisper in his ear that I was driving home and would wait for him if he wanted to visit.
When I pulled into the driveway of the home he and I once shared, I knew exactly where I would greet him. Right before we signed the divorce papers, he stopped by to pick up a few boxes he left in our basement. I watched him climbing the stairs but I met him halfway, tears in my eyes. We embraced and made love there on the stairs. He ripped my Michael Kors turtleneck sweater trying to take it off and in turn I drew blood when I dragged my nails down his back. Every moment that he had me pressed against that staircase was everything I would miss.
I waited for him on those stairs for over an hour. I finally locked the door and crawled into bed fully dressed. I don't think I've cried so hard before in my entire life.
Carine Roitfeld for Interview Magazine shot by Karl Lagerfeld
Images courtesy of Interview Magazine