Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Angie

   She hadn't changed that much.  From a distance she looked just like she
had eighteen years ago.  Even her haircut was the same.  Maybe her eyes
were different, tired, knowing and with a touch of sadness.  From close up
I could see a few wrinkles round the eyes and the beginning of a line on
each side of her mouth.  Her complexion hadn't improved either.  In fact I
could see that she used a lot of make up that could not entirely hide
dilated pores and an unnatural pallor. Back then her eyes had been radiant
and sparkling like little stars.  At least at the beginning, that is.  When
we began to go out together she had always had that look in her eyes, of
complete admiration, like amazed a boy like me could exist.  Only later on
that look gradually shifted into one of disappointment, even sadness. I
took my pack of Marlboros out and extracted a cigarette. 'So you smoke now?
I always thought you were a total anti.' she looked at me in utter
surprise. 'Oh, things change, you know.' I replied, a little embarrassed
'That's a relief.  I was dying for a smoke.' It was her turn to surprise
me. In shock I watched her take out a pack of Reds 100.  Apart from other,
heavier stuff, the Reds 100 always gave me the greatest kick.  For myself I
preferred the short Reds, but I just loved to see women smoke those long
ones with the cork tip. I watched her light up and take a thirsty drag on
her cigarette.  Seeing a woman light up would always arouse me, but with
Angie it was different.  The scar on my soul flared up.  The bitter hard
pain that had held me in its claws so long was there again.  That she now
smoked only made things worse.  My face must have given away some of the
turmoil inside me.  She blew the smoke to one side, not in an elegant way,
but a lot of smoke it was and that was what I craved mostly, to see a woman
smoke with intensity.  'Are you still mad at me, after all those years?'
she asked. 'Mad?  No, why should I?  God, after eighteen years?  I should
hope there are other things on my mind now.' I tried to sound convincing,
even thou I felt otherwise. 'But there's something troubling you, I can see
that.' she insisted. 'Oh, well, I would lie if I said I am in high spirits,
but I assure you, it has nothing to do with you.  Actually I'm glad to have
met you after all those years.  I was wondering how you have done.' still
playing cool, but what else was there to do?  As much as our unexpected
encounter had shaken me, I certainly wasn't going to give any of it away.
What purpose would that serve?  There was no place for a woman in my life
now, at least not for her and there certainly was no place for me in her
life.  Unlike me she was married and had a daughter.  For all I knew her
marriage still held.  I had on occasions heard of her from mutual friends.
'Good.  It's a relief to hear that from you.  I know it's stupid, but
sometimes I still feel a little guilty, you know?' she looked like she
meant it.  I watched her work her way thru her cigarette.  She had the
casual way of long time smokers.  Short but powerful drags, a quick sharp
inhale followed by a pause of about five seconds.  After that she would
noisily exhale a big dense cloud of smoke, either to one side or up in the
air.  Not very elegant or sexy, but I never needed that anyway.  Back then
I would have been glad to see her smoke even herbal cigarettes.  I always
thought that to only thing that had been missing in our relationship was
smoking.  Not that I had consciously wished that.  I had been a naive
dreamer.  At barely twenty I hadn't realized that as a fetishist I had no
chance to live a normal life.  'Tell me, how have you been doing?  Are you
married, do you have kids?' she asked. 'No, none of that.  Somehow the
right one never showed up and as you may remember I never was for
compromises in my love life.' this seemed to genuinely sadden her. 'I'm
sorry to hear that.' 'Oh, you needn't be sorry for me.  I'm quite
comfortable the way it is.  After all I don't live like a monk you know.  I
had a lot of affairs over the years.  Some even held for a while.  Besides
I'm doing quite well professionally.' I had regained my composure somewhat
and was able to play it all down.  True enough I was doing well in my job
and there had been women in my life.  Quite a number of them in fact.  Yet
I hadn't even tried to find a real mate. 'Good to hear.  For a moment I
feared you still have the same problem.' she alluded to my failure to make
love to her eighteen years ago. 'Oh God no.  That's ancient history.  I
don't have any problems of that kind anymore, no more than any other man.'
Which was more or less the truth.  After we had split it had taken me
almost a year to recover enough to even look at another girl.  Only after
another year I started going out with girls again.  I decided to turn the
conversation away from me.  Even thou I knew it would only hurt me I wanted
to hear from her how she was doing.  Maybe I just wanted to get
confirmation she was happy and there wasn't a chance for me in it.  Often
enough, especially during the times I was alone, I had dreamt of Angie. 
The wish to rejoin with the only woman I had really loved and still did had
never died.  Part of me wanted to get it hard, to be able to finally forget
about her.  Like burning out a wound with a hot rod. 'What about you?  I
heard you have a daughter.  How is Peter doing?' My eyes must have been
those of a rabbit looking into the eyes of a snake. 'Peter?  He's all
right. He makes a lot of money so we are well off.  Mary has grown into a
really bright young woman.  She's on her way to a MCL and has a really nice
guy for a boyfriend.  She never has caused us any troubles.  No drugs, no
alcohol and no bumming around.  Except may be she has taken up a bad habit
from her mother.  She smokes quite a lot.  That's all my fault but then
that's it.  I couldn't quit while it was still time for it and now she has
copied me.' 'I'm glad to hear that your daughter is doing well.  As to her
smoking, there are worse things.' And if you had stayed with me, none of us
would smoke and if we had kids they wouldn't either, I added in my mind. 
'But tell me, now that you mentioned it, how come you smoke?  Back then you
wanted to shoot any smoker on sight.  What happened?' 'God, that's quit a
long story.  It started shortly after, err, well, you know when we split.'
'Or you drove me away by cheating on me, to tell the truth.' I hadn't meant
to say it out loud but it had escaped my mouth.  God old Dr.  Freud.  She
didn't like my remark. 'Yes, whatever you want.  We hadn't talked it out
then, because you gave me no chance.  If you had listened, who knows...? 
But you chose to turn your back on me.' she answered angrily. In a way she
was right.  We might have taken up our relationship again, but to what end?
It wouldn't have lasted.  Maybe we would have split later and with less
pain, but I could have never really have forgiven her.  To look for a good
fuck just because I had difficulties to make love to her?  She had claimed
many times I was her one and only true love, yet the moment something went
wrong she dragged another guys into her bed.  Worse yet, she did it behind
my back.  I had found out by mere chance.  'I'm sorry.  I shouldn't have
said that.  It doesn't matter any more.  Go ahead.  Tell me your story, how
come you smoke?' 'It was Peter's fault.  He was smoking a lot back then. 
First he talked me into the cigarette after.  One night, after we finished,
he just lit up two cigarettes and gave me one.  I wanted to refuse, but he
insisted.  I didn't like it at first but I got used to it after a while and
it turned out to be quite relaxing.  Soon he began to light up for both of
us more often and I was stupid enough not refuse.  Besides, I was starting
to really like it.  It didn't take me long to get hooked and that was it. I
found myself to be a smoker.  I thought about quitting many times.  At
first I had been only afraid it would disappoint him but later on I just
couldn't.  When I was pregnant I managed to cut down to less then ten
cigarettes per day but I just couldn't give it up entirely.  After the
birth of Mary it got worse.  From my former one pack a day I soon was on
two and now I rarely get along with less then three.  There are times I
really make up my mind to quit but then something bad happens and instead
of quitting I smoke more.  Lately it got worse because...  well that's not
important.' My self-control was shaken again.  So she had taken up smoking
because of Peter.  Maybe if I had tried that on her all those ugly things
wouldn't have happened.  I would have been the stallion I later was to be
if I had dared to ask her to smoke.  What a lost opportunity!  Had I known
how easy it had been to make her smoke...  Yet I knew I could not have done
that.  While I love to see a woman smoke and always crave for her to smoke
a lot I would have never thought of turning a non-smoker into a smoker or
even make the slightest suggestion she would smoke more.  Her last words
had also held a hint something else.  She had troubles. 'The worst of it is
that Peter has quit long time ago.  While he's responsible for my smoking,
now he pesters me to quit and blames me for Mary taking up smoking.  True
enough, but hey, who started me in the first place?' 'I'm sorry to hear
that.  I always hoped that at least you are happy the way things went.'
'Please stop that.  Are you trying to make me feel guilty?  It's a bit late
to do that, don't you think?  About eighteen years too late.  You should
have come then.  It had been all an accident at first.  I wasn't in love
him.  But after you turned your back on me I stayed with Peter.  Now I'm
married to him and have an almost adult daughter.' she looked outright
unhappy now. 'But now you do love him I suppose.' 'There was a time I
thought I did.  Yes, at first I was quite happy with him.  We had lots of
sex and we did things together and all that.  I'm not sure I really loved
him, not the way...  But that's not important now.  Yes I guess I can say I
did love him even thou at times I felt it was all based only on physical
attraction.  Unfortunately things tend to wear out in time.  I fear I never
liked him or was fond of him.  As long as we were both young and hot on
each other it was OK but now I found we have less and less to say to each
other.  We often disagree on things and I don't like him enough to accept
some of his opinions.  I fear we also vote different.  I found out he's a
Republican down to the bone.  You know me, I tend to look into things and
try to find out what's really going on, but not him.' she sighed and
reached for another cigarette.  It was her third one within twenty minutes.
'So it's out now.  The one really good thing that came out of marrying
Peter is Mary.  For her sake I have kept up the facade.  My life could be
rather comfortable but for Peter.' with a smoke filled sigh she looked
directly into my eyes.  A trace of the old sparkling was there again.  'God
dam you Mr.  Fleming!  I have buried my feelings deep down inside but you
have done it!  All you had to do is look into my eyes once and it's all
there!  I will go home and cry thru the night.  But you are right in one
point.  It had been my fault!  If I hadn't given in to that impulse to go
off with Peter and find out if it was I who failed to arouse you...  ' She
lowered her head into her hands and started to sob. 'Look Angie, I'm sorry.
I didn't mean to upset you.  Maybe we shouldn't have met or at least we
shouldn't have had this discussion.  True enough I have never forgotten you
and I have never been able to love another woman like I loved you.  Maybe I
still love you.  But I haven't expected to find the same in you too.  You
never gave it a second try so I thought it had worked out well with you and
Peter.' I tried to sound soothing, one of my better qualities.  Many women
told me that the sexiest thing about me was my voice.  She raised her head
and looked at me again.  Her cigarette had burnt down so she took another
one from her pack.  It seemed to me she didn't even realize what she was
doing.  Taking out a cigarette and lighting it was a mere reflex.  Her
tears had dried out.  She took a Kleenex out of her purse and cleaned her
face. 'You don't have to be sorry for me.  We both blew it and that's it.
We cannot undo the last eighteen years.  I don't know if it's good or not
that we talk but I wanted to do it for years.  It's never too late to clear
things up.' 'And who's the wiser now?  You haven't told me much I didn't
know.  I doubt you have any idea how much you have hurt me.  I bear this
scar on my soul like a veteran bears his wound.  You remember our old song?
Freddy Mercury's "Love Of My Life"?  After what happened, every time I
heard it accidentally on the radio I almost broke down.  Even now it drives
me to tears.  I often think that what you did to me burnt out the place in
my heart were love sits.  I will never be able to love a woman.  Never
again.  I told you I had affairs, even relationships but they never lasted
because except in bed I was too indifferent.  I don't care if a woman has
other lovers.  I cannot be jealous because I cannot feel anything.  Lust
yes, but nothing else.  I loved you but could not have sex with you.  Now I
can have sex whenever I want to but I cannot love anymore.' She looked at
me with wet eyes in true compassion. 'You're giving it to me hard, don't
you?  But I deserve no better.  I have blamed you as much as I have blamed
me but maybe the one that has suffered most is you.  That you couldn't
bring it up was no fault of yours.  I have cheated on you and hurt you and
then I even made the idiocy of marrying Peter.  Be assured I've got my
punishment for that.  Maybe I haven't suffered emotionally like you have.
But I got my share.  Look at me.  I am a compulsive smoker and if it hadn't
been for Mary I would be an alcoholic too.  I share house with a man I
don't love and never did.  We sleep in separate rooms and he never even
touches me any more.  He probably has an affair and has cheated on me
before but for the sake of Mary I try to make it look like a marriage.'
'Hey, we better stop this.  You have all my sympathy.  Don't think you're
the only one to blame.  My conscience isn't that free either.  There are
things about me you don't know.  Let's just leave it at that.  I want to be
your friend if I can.  If things turn worse, if you need assistance, call
me up.' indeed I felt much sympathy for her.  Some of the grudge I had
borne on her all those years dissipated.  She had gotten her reward.  Not
that it helped either of us, but somehow it made it easier for me.  It
wasn't fair, but then what the heck.  She hadn't acted fair to me either.
But I genuinely meant to help. 'Thank you.  That's one of the things I have
always loved in you.  You can be a really kind person and you're always
ready to help.  But you needn't worry about me.  If he has hurt me it was
only my soul he has hurt.  He is not a brutal person.  He has never hurt me
or Mary and he does love Mary and she adores him.  You are right anyway, we
should stop here.  I don't know if I want to ever meet you again.  You
could be my best friend but it hurts too much.  You will always remind me
of what could have been.  Take care, Robby.' She had used her pet name for
me.  Nobody else has ever called me Robby again.  I bade her good bye too
and she left in a hurry.  Unlike her I had not smoked after the first
cigarette.  I'm not that much of a smoker.  Smoking helps when I see a
beautiful woman light up.  Lighting up myself dampened my arousal to some
extent.  Now I needed a cigarette badly.

   A few dreary days passed.  I had lots of assignments to keep me busy and
except at night I had no time to think of the conversation with Angie. 
Unexpectedly I felt better than in years, maybe for the first time after my
private Waterloo eighteen years ago.  Could there be hope again?  I wasn't
even forty, still young enough to found a family.  Then one night the phone
rang.  It was Angie.  She asked me to meet her at a bar.  I found her
there, smoldering cigarette in hand, brooding over a glass of Bourbon.  She
smiled at me when I sat down near her.  'Thank you for coming.' she gave me
another broader smile and touched my hand lightly.  'I haven't been
sleeping much these days.  We shouldn't have met but now that it has
happened I cannot think but of you.' she stroked my arm.  Was she trying
something on me? 'I wonder if you could live with a heavy smoker like me.
You don't seem to smoke that much yourself.' 'Oh well, I don't think that I
would care if someone I live with smokes a little or much.  It doesn't
bother me.' this seemed to relief her.  Was this an attempt to make it up
with me?  After eighteen years and a wrecked marriage?  If I had met a
complete stranger it wouldn't have mattered whether she had a dozen
children or ten wrecked marriages behind her.  I often thought I wouldn't
even mind dating or have a long term thing with an ex hooker.  What
mattered to me was the person and what she was and did in the present. 
However with Angie things were different.  I couldn't reconcile with her.
The shadow of Peter would always fall between us.  But how to make that
clear to her?  I decided to say nothing and let her play her card. 'Then
you wouldn't mind?  I mean if I were to divorce, do you think we could work
it out together?  I'm sure you would like Mary and even if not, she's off
to college so...' She left her words trail off unsure of my reaction.  I
could see it took her a lot of willpower to say this.  She smoked hastily
and her whole body was tense.  I had to put an end to this.  Maybe I could
scare her off by telling her about my true sexual identity. 'Look, before
we even talk about this maybe I should tell you something about me.  Then
you might not feel that guilty any more about what has happened.  You see,
even thou it is no fault of mine, yet I bear a part of the responsibility.
I have never talked about this to anybody but you deserve to know the
truth. Maybe you will feel different about me then.' She looked puzzled.
'What on earth are you talking about?  I can't understand.  I have cheated
on you because you failed in our first attempts to make love.  I was quite
naive and stupid back then.  I know now that if I had not lost my patience
we would have worked it out somehow.  You told me you have no problems with
sex anymore.  What's wrong with you then?' 'This is pretty hard...  But I
have to.  Look, I am a quite normal male except I do feel a little
different about women than most men.  I thought back then I was a sort of
monster and I have tried to fight my inner feelings.  Maybe you are right
and it could have worked out.  Yet I doubt we could have really had a good
marriage.  You see you lacked one quality or let's better say habit to
drive my sexual arousal high enough.  Ironically Peter has turned you into
the woman that has this quality or habit I missed in you back then.' she
seemed not to get to point. 'What is that mysterious quality you are
talking about?  It couldn't be my boobs or my ass because Peter isn't
responsible for either.  Is it my motherhood?  But that's no habit.  What
then?' 'You didn't guess.  It's smoking.' 'Smoking?  What's that supposed
to mean?  Why what about it?  What has smoking to do with sex?' 'Oh, for a
minority of men including my humble self, it has a lot to do with sex.'
'But in what way?  Do you need to get burnt with cigarettes or what?' 'No,
no.  It's much simpler.  I have the so called smoking fetish.  That means
simply that I get fully aroused only by smokers.' 'Men or women?' 'Of
course women, what did you think?  There are others who get aroused by all
sorts of smokers of both sexes, but the majority is like me.  We are
attracted by women who smoke.  I have found out thru the internet that a
lot of men feel that way.' 'Wow.  That's something!  What does that mean
for us?  Am I more attractive to you now that I smoke?' 'That's not easy to
answer.  I simply don't know what how I feel about that, not after
what...Anyway I never again tried to date a woman that didn't smoke.  I
don't know whether it could have worked any way else.  Fact is that I never
again had a problem to make love to a woman.  As long as she was a smoker
my little friend never failed me.  Not that it's the only thing a woman
needs to do to get me interested.  I am as sensitive to beauty and a sexy
body or sexy outfit and makeup like any other man.  It's just that
additionally to all other things she has to smoke.  That gives me the final
kick.  Then it's OK.' 'So if I had smoked back then it may have worked?  Is
that it?' 'Yes and no, I'm afraid it's not that simple.  Those days I
avoided any contact with female smokers.  If you had smoked I wouldn't have
wanted to date you.  I was horrified by my own perversity and was trying to
stay straight.' 'But then if you knew the problem, why didn't you ask me to
smoke?  Maybe I would have done it and we had lived happily ever after.' 'I
don't think it could have worked out.  I have never in my life tried to
start a woman smoking.  I didn't even encourage any of them.  If they
smoked of their own will, fine.  I don't want to feel guilty of doing
something that is bad for them.  I know it sounds schizo but that's the way
it is.  Maybe if you had started smoking on your own and surprised me with
it while we were still trying to, you know, it might have worked.  But it
was nothing I could have done to you.  That's why maybe it was bound to
happen that way.  What has hurt me most was not that I had lost you, but
that you have cheated on me.' She said nothing for a while.  After a while
in which she had smoked a cigarette and half of another one, she looked
into my eyes again. 'So what you are trying to tell me is that we could
have never worked it out even if I hadn't done what I have done?  Because I
didn't smoke but you needed that for your sex life?' she looked a little
sulky now.  'I wish it were that simple.  I have no idea what would have
become of us if you had been faithful to me.  Maybe it could have worked,
maybe not.  I know of guys who live a perfectly ordinary life of
non-smokers with non-smoking wives even thou they have this fetish.  It
might have worked.  I will never know and it's too late to find it out now.
But we should let bygones be bygones.  It was you who wanted help.  What is
it I can do for you?' 'It doesn't really matter anymore.' she looked pissed
off. 'So you are disgusted.  That is why I have never talked to a woman
about this before.  I knew what would happen.' This made her smile in a
melancholic way. 'How wrong you are.  I thought you know me better.  I
would have been glad to take up smoking for you.  My anti-smoking attitude
was all show.  I had just taken up what I thought was your point of view,
'cause you preached a lot against smoking and I wanted to please you.  I
just didn't have the courage to try it.  That's why I did it for Peter easy
enough even thou I doubt it ever meant anything to him.  Not sexually at
least.  I wanted to try smoking ever since I was a teenager.  I even took
drags from the cigarettes of other girls on and off.  I just didn't dare to
try it on my own.  That you would get a kick out of it?  I don't think that
would have been a problem for me.  It certainly wouldn't be now.  I loved
you too much to care about such a minor flaw in your character.  But you
are right.  We best bury the past.' I nodded.  'There was a reason I called
you up.' she stroked my arm again, even gripped it as she went on smoking
and speaking at the same time. 'I was wondering if you might be interested
in a bit more than friendship.  Maybe it's not too late to pick it up where
we have dropped it eighteen years ago.  I will divorce Peter in any case.
Do you think we would have a chance?  You all but told me you still love me
and these past days have showed me I have never stopped loving you. 
Besides now I am a smoker so nothing would stand in our way.' she had
spoken hastily like trying to press it all out before she lost her courage.
'There's a lot that would stand in our way.  Your smoking is the least of
my concerns.  You see, I do love you, but nothing will ever heal the scar
that day has left on my soul.  It would stand between us all the time. 
Besides we have both changed.  We might discover we have habits, and I
don't mean smoking, that we cannot stand in the other.' 'But I could change
and you could too.' 'No, that's not the point.  I will never be able to
feel again what I have once felt for you.' 'But we could try.  We have so
much in common.  I know I could be happy with you.  I'm not too old to have
children.  I will do anything to make you happy.  I have learnt my lesson.
I never cheated on Peter.  You mustn't be afraid I would be unfaithful. 
Not to you whom I love.' 'You don't understand.  I can't.  I know it cannot
work out.  I can be your friend and you can ask for my help but not for my
love.  Our chance to be happy has died that day when I saw Peter naked in
your apartment.  We would ruin our lives if we tried.  I'm sorry.' 'So this
is final?' 'Yes, Angie, it is.  I think we better say good bye now' I rose,
gave her a peck and left.

   I had a hell of night.  I listened to Queen all night, crying for the
life I couldn't have with Angie.  When the morning came the first rays of
the sun wiped away my dark mood.  I had done the right thing.  Should I
have explained to her my real motives?  What for?  She wouldn't have
understood.  As much as I had dreamt of a second chance with her I still
knew it wasn't realistic.  Because I was afraid I would fail again.  The
fear of failing in bed still loomed around me and often enough I had to
make the woman light a cigarette in the middle of a promising foreplay just
because I felt my dick turn limp again.  How much worse would it be with
the woman on whom I had failed once?  Then there was something else.  I
doubted her love.  The more I thought about it the more my conviction grew
she hadn't been truly in love with me.  It had been infatuation more than
anything else on her side.  The fact that she had given herself away so
easily spoke for itself.  Even if her motivation to try it with Peter had
been only plain physical attraction, a purely hormonal thing, still it was
the strongest of motives a woman could have.  What happened once could and
probably would happen again sooner or later.  I knew a lot about physical
attraction myself.  Once in a while I had met a woman that ignited
something in me almost beyond control.  Sometimes I had been lucky enough
to start the same feelings in a woman.  We would have sex at the first
occasion and good one too.  It never lasted more than a few weeks but those
were good weeks filled with passion.  It didn't even matter if the woman
was attractive in a general way.  Maybe it was the pheromones or some sort
of aura.  This was what people called love at first sight.  Only in my
opinion it had nothing to do with love.  Love, even if there is a
scientific name for the hormones that are supposed to cause it, still is
the esoteric unfathomable sentiment that ties us to another person. 
Sometimes, if lucky, a couple starts with physical attraction which evolves
into true love and lasts, if not for life, at least for a couple of years.
I would never be sure if she wouldn't fall into Peter's arms again.  This
above all had determined me to leave her alone.  Another disappointment
from her would probably be the end of me.  Then I discovered that my desire
to rejoin with her had vanished.  The thorn was out.  The wound still hurt
and probably would all my life, but it was different now.  In the morning I
collected all my CDs and tapes of sad love songs and threw them away.  It
was like tidying up my soul.  The pain would never leave me but there was
hope again.  The spell Angie had cast on me had finally broken.

   Optional Epilogue

   My customers too found I had changed.  They asked me what I was so happy
about or if I had fallen in love.  Well I hadn't but I was to soon.  Aysha,
a nice young woman working for one of the companies I had often serviced,
had left me with the impression she wouldn't be disinclined.  While she
seemed worth it, being both sexy and nice, I had recoiled from courting her
because she was too a nice person and with my crooked inner life I hadn't
been the man to live with a woman.  Now that I felt my former self return
and the scar I had borne so long seemed almost gone, I decided it may be
worth a try.  My job took me to her company again soon enough and I was
lucky to meet her in the smoking place.  She really was something.  Like
her name suggested, she looked like out of Arabic Nights, petite and curvy,
with a dark complexion and immense black eyes that matched her mop of long
dark hair.  And of course she was a smoker and an avid one too.  Her cheeks
the were a little caved in by nature always collapsed when she dragged. 
The way she took in almost half an inch of the filter to cover the vent
holes and get more smoke was absolutely fabulous.  Her nose exhales were
the hottest thing I had ever seen.  But then she seemed also a very
affectionate person.  A lovely woman and an accomplished smoker, what could
I want more? Two month later we were already preparing to move in together.
Already what I felt for her had little to do with her smoking or with her
wonderful body.  I had fallen in love with her and as much as I could tell
she felt the same.  One night Aysha and I had been to a movie.  The movie
was over and we stepped outside, both eager to light up.  Not far ahead of
us I saw Angie and Peter.  That must have been the moment when whatever had
been left of my feelings for Angie melted away forever.  I saw Peter light
up two cigarettes, one for each of them.  They both took a drag and then
kissed heavily.  As I had foreseen, she had made up with Peter.  I laid my
arm around Aysha's waist and she nestled into me.  A cursory melancholy
took hold of me.  I had wasted years till I found someone I could really
love.  Yet we are what we are because of what happened to us and what we
did in the past.  Without that I may never have given Aysha a second look.

   THE END