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The cafe was screaming with toddlers in superhero t-shirts, mothers dragging feet behind rabid cappuccinos, octogenarians tap-dancing to the newspaper rack and you. You. My eyes found you and the crowds vanished. The whirring of coffee machines and oscillating tongues melted into a distant symphony.

You had spread yourself under an amber glow while my cessation of breathing turned me an unflattering aubergine. If love at first sight does not exist, then existence is meaningless. It is but a film of sugar dust that stands between you and I.

I remind myself that I am a mother to two young boys and a wife; a wife on her knees blurting promises dipped in chocolate that night he walked in on us. Yet, you. You evoke such hunger within me that I can’t stop thinking how sweet it would be to lay my lips on you.

Counting battles is futile when the war is not mine to win. I emptied the change in my pockets and snuck us into a corner, away from the many eyes and tongues of judgement. I devoured you whole, every pore of your being, and succumbed to your decadence. Even as I sit on my guilt, with a film of sugar dust betraying my lips, I know you will not be my last.

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