We meet again •part 2•

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It was Riley.
I slid my hands into my jean pockets, whilst slowly looking at her, then to the baby in the pushchair. I thought about it for a minute, wondering who's baby she could possibly be looking after...perhaps Emily's? But I'd never seen anything about this in instagram or twitter...then something seemed to click.

After examining Riley for no less than 7 seconds, it clear she was struggling. Financially.

Her shoes looked tacky and worn, her black leggings had a small hole in the knee and she was in a thin oversized jacket. As for her face, it didn't have any make up on what so ever-even though it's possible she scrubbed it off before making an unexpected trip here and either way she still looked beautiful as ever. And her hair, it was a little longer than I remember. I guess that's normal for not seeing anything of her in 17 months. This included all social media photos, which she blocked me on immediately after breaking up and loosing contact.

The reason we broke up is still a bit of a dazzle to me. One day she didn't come into dance (which is how we met) and I got no texts even after several attempts of messaging her first. It wasn't until a few days later where I got a text, asking me to go over to her house. As soon as she opened the door for me and silently led me into the living room I could tell something was weird.

No words were said, not even a hello. In fact for the first time in 3 years of us dating this is one of the only awkward moments we ever had had. We sat down on the sofa- different ones. Her gaze fell to her hands which were nervously playing with a bracelet which lay around her small wrist whilst I looked down at the tatty rug covering the hardwood floor.

After a few words, which were far from easy to process, I found myself being pushed out the house and the front door slamming in my face. I could remember hearing her crying from the other side, however decided not to react to it. She's the one who "needs a break from me and the studio". Little did I know it was a permanent one.

And after a few weeks of  heartache and going back to being the careless boy I was when I was 16, I found myself moving on and getting over it. For all I was concerned it wasn't my fault we broke up- she's the one who had had enough of me and pushed me away. So I gave up trying.

I was suddenly brought from my thoughts to the baby beginning to cry. Riley and I both turned our attention before I plucked up some courage to speak.

"So um, who's is she?" I ask trying to sound casual however by the way I saw scratching the back of my neck it was obvious I was weary.

"Who's do you think" Riley mumbled coldly, showing no emotion whatsoever.

"Oh um sorry, yeah aha obviously. I mean what else would you be doing at this time of night with someone else's kid" I chuckle trying to break the ice. Riley just stayed staring at me emotionless.

"Her name is Imogen, not 'she" Riley spits harshly.
"Cute name" I say smiling at Imogen who's tiny hand is wrapped around Rileys finger. I notice it wasn't the only thing wrapped around her fingers, as I saw the ring I gave her for her 16th birthday still in tact. I furrowed my brow slightly, curious as to why she would still have it on after leaving me how she did.

"Thanks.." Riley murmured still looking anywhere but at me. It was an awkward silence for a few minutes and just as I was considering saying yet another goodbye, i saw Rileys head look up to look at me then back at her ring which I had apparently been staring at the whole time.

"You're probably wondering why he hell I still have it on.." she whispered, laughing to herself ever so slightly.

I nodded, lifting my gaze to Rileys perfectly framed face.

"...I wanted to give it to our daughter for her 16th birthday.."

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Not proof read sorry 💓
Hope you enjoyed xxx

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