Free The Explosive Nature of Friendship by Sara Alexi

and Mitsos can see the girl he first loved. What a life he would have given her. The sons they would have had.
    But now, what does he do now? He can now show Marina his love for her but in what way? He must not be clumsy or crude, or the whole thing could backfire. He must be careful, considerate, see it from her point of view. But what is her view? It is more than twenty-two years since they last spoke. She was a girl of just twenty-eight then. It occurs to Mitsos that a lot can happen in that time, that he doesn't really know her anymore. But he is not convinced people really change. And he is sure he loves her anyway.
    Marina looks directly at him. He swallows hard; he can feel a pulse at his temples and a bead of sweat breaks out on his forehead. She looks away again. But Mitsos, empowered by his letter, leaves his table and trots, as best he can, down the kafenio steps and across to Marina.
    ‘ Hello,’ he begins. She stops walking abruptly and looks at him, searching his eyes, and then at his empty shirt sleeve. They have not been this close to each other since that day. She closes her mouth, which had opened in the surprise of the encounter, and turns to walk on. ‘How are you, Marina?’ He wants to tell her that, however she is, he can make it better.
    ‘ What do you want?’ Her tone is neutral.
    Mitsos feels his stomach drop. There is a sudden pain in his chest. ‘Please, Marina, I want to know how you are.’
    ‘ I am fine.’ She looks in the direction of her corner shop, where she is heading. She looks at the ground, her eyes flitting backwards and forwards, and then she makes the slightest turn in her shoulders to face him.
    ‘ I am fine. How are you?’ Her voice is still neutral but her eyes make contact. His stomach flutters and his knees give a little and he swallows as his mouth has gone dry.
    Mitsos does not want to have a conversation on this superficial level, but he is lost for words. He looks in her face. She is so much older now. ‘I am fine. Is the shop doing well?’
    ‘ Yes, thank you.’ Her shoulders make the slightest turn from him; she is going to walk away. She is holding a newspaper, which she now raises above her head to shade her face from the sun.
    ‘ Marina …’ He decides to take the goat by the horns. ‘Marina,’ he repeats, ‘I am so deeply sorry.’ Her gaze is level, and she looks him straight in the eyes. Mitsos wonders how many people at the kafenio are watching him. He is now part of the daily play. He also wonders if she is going to slap his face. There is a glint in her eye. Has he made the situation worse? ‘Really … deeply … sorry.’ He tries, but can only think of the same words again. The words he has wanted to say for twenty-two years. He can feel tears pricking at his eyes. The words seem empty, not the balm he thought they would be.
    Marina takes a breath. Her stout chest lifts, the blue material pulls tight. Mitsos shifts his weight to ease any strain there may be on his trousers. ‘I am not,’ she says quietly, her sentence dropping at the end into a definite full stop.
    ‘ What?’ Mitsos’ forehead lifts.
    ‘ I am not sorry for what happened. Well, I mean, I am on one level, of course, but for what you are sorry, I am not.’ She doesn't smile, but she does walk away.
    Mitsos can make no sense of the exchange. All these years he has presumed she was angry, sad, lonely, hating him. His envelope does not seem so powerful now; it cannot bring clarity.
    He can feel the eyes of his peer group at the kafenio on his back. He cannot stand there on his own much longer. But he is so confused by Marina’s words that after two steps towards his home he changes his mind and walks as briskly as he can to Stella’s.

    There is music and laughter at Stella’s take-away. The same young farmers are there, and some older ones that must be at least fifty, their trousers held up with twine, their skin like leather sheets drawn tight over their bones, shirt