He steps closer, and for a moment, our eyes meet. His gaze is warm, and friendly, with that spark of curiosity that I remember from years ago.
I swallow, trying to keep my expression neutral, though my mind is racing. I know him, know the sound of his laugh, the way his hand feels when it rests on my shoulder. I know what it feels like to share my life with him, and what it feels like to lose him.
"Nice to meet you," he says, offering his hand to my mother then my father, Liz, myself then my twin. I find myself drawn to his fill wide lips that I never noticed before- he had his father's mouth.
When I shake his hand, I hope he cannot feel the tremor in mine. "Nice to meet you, too." Then he excuses himself and returns to the bar. Smoothly.
"My son says he is studying not working and so he doesn't want to burden his mind he said, with work things yet," Kinda laughs explaining and her husband smiles proudly as well.