Mia was my everything.
She was my best friend – but I never told her how I really felt. Not even when I took her innocence.
Or moved away and left her with nothing but our promise: If we were still single at 35, we’d get married and have a baby.
We haven’t spoken since that night.
I can understand her resentment.
She doesn’t know why I had to stay away. Maybe I should tell her what really happened.
At first she might deny me. Make fun of our stupid marriage pact. But I’ll make her remember my touch.
Devour every inch of her body. Show her we’re meant to be so much more than ‘just friends’.
Today’s Mia’s 35th birthday – and I’m back to claim what she promised me.