The Quiet Affection
By Rick Clarke
It was just a book. A leaving gift for a colleague. A friend. It didn't raise eyebrows. It was an entirely appropriate parting gift - officially.
No one else had bought her anything. They had signed the card. Made the obligatory promises of meeting up for a drink. The usual.
But then there was the book. It had been a favourite book of hers when she was a child. She had mentioned it once and had thought no one would remember. But they had.
He gave her the book just before the end of the day. Just as the shop was getting empty, but before all the staff ran for the exit door and publicly shouted their goodbyes.
It was noticed of course. By everyone. When he gave it to her, everyone just slide away. Everyone was a little embarrassed of course, especially her, and him.
He was married . She was married . But not to each other. It was just a book of course. It wasn't an affair, just a gift, a quiet sort children's book with old fashioned water colour pictures.
They talked as she turned the pages of the little book. They had worked together for about five years. They talked sometimes, but mostly they worked. No one saw each other outside of work. It just wasn't that sort of place.
She thanked him and said they should meet up sometime, for a drink or something. It was the obligatory line and he reciprocated. As she put the gift in her bag the atmosphere returned to its pre-book state. People reappeared, chatting like normal, ready to go home.
When they reached the exit everyone pushed through the door as they always had. As she left he admired how beautiful she was and then said goodbye.
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