The point of no return

June 2011.

The days were insanely long now. Late spring was the best season in Bergen, when days stretched to infinity and the sun shone more often. I had gotten Tristan back three weeks ago after his movie had suffered a few delays. Needless to say that we were joined at the hip.

Tonight, we were enjoying the bout of great weather by dining out in that fancy restaurant on top of Fløyen hill. After all, we had skipped it the first time – choosing the snack - but always talked about taking the time to dine in someday. Today was this someday. ‘Dress up, my lady’, Tristan had asked while he got a table for us both on the phone. ‘We’ll celebrate my return’.