cellardoor
To Love Again by Naomi Thomas
His smile was as radiant as it had ever been. His eyes, blue as ice, still housed the same spark that had caught her attention all those years before. Grace had been waiting for this moment for 48 years and now as she glanced at the man stood before her, she was overwhelmed with the love she still felt for him. His presence still made her nervous; the silky tone of his voice was enough to make her drop to her knees. Henry had stolen Grace’s heart from the moment she laid eyes on him, and she had never gotten it back. ‘You haven’t changed one bit,’ breathed Grace. ‘Nor have you, you’ve become more beautiful with age if that‘s possible,’ he replied. ‘Don’t flatter me, I look old,’ she laughed. ‘No Grace, you look as wonderful as the night we met,’ he said softly. The Season of 1968 saw Grace, barely 18 years old, thrown into a world of lavish balls. A world of debutantes seemingly on the prowl for wealthy partners. Her mother deemed it a rite of passage and claimed that coming out was a young girl’s way of announcing herself and her desire for a husband. Grace had never once entertained the idea of love or marriage, not at her age, not until the moment she caught her first glimpse of Henry. Margaret Dalton’s ball was held in the Mayfair Hotel during the middle of June, and was one of the more decadent of the season. That night as Henry made his way down the marble staircase and into the ballroom, it was obvious he wasn’t
a part if this world but he intended to make himself one. His tux was old, almost threadbare, but still he exuded more confidence than any other male in the room. He caught Grace’s eye as he descended and weaving his way through the crowd, he headed straight towards her. ‘Please excuse my bluntness but you are the most beautiful young lady I have ever encountered,’ he said smoothly. A slight blush crept into Grace’s cheeks as he threw her admiring glances. Accepting his proposal to dance, the electricity she felt when he held her hand was indescribable. Henry relished the limelight, he was an old-fashioned charmer but a gentleman nonetheless. An extremely handsome character, he displayed chiselled features, dark wavy hair and eyes the colour of rain. His looks meant he could have any woman in the room, and that night he chose Grace. By the end of the evening she was infatuated. She was brought back to reality by the sound of Henry’s voice and she looked at him and smiled. ‘Shall we take a walk on the beach?’ he suggested. ‘It’s such a magnificent day.’ They walked in comfortable silence for a while until Henry came to a halt. She knew what was coming. ‘Grace, why are you here?’ he asked. ‘After all these years and all the pain, what do you want?’ ‘I want to apologise,’ she whispered. ‘I let you down, and I’ve lived every day of my life regretting it.’ She could still see traces of pain
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