“I must hurry.” The air was gravid with spring droplets, threatening a storm.
“Lucy, don’t go,” he half whispered as the wind blew about the cotton white curtains. She looked at him lying naked in bed. The room smelled of sex and lilacs.
“I can’t stay.”
He looked at her, pleading with his eyes.
“I have to go pick up Robbie from school,” she said.
“All right. When can I see you again?”
“Let’s meet for lunch tomorrow.”
They kissed goodbye.
As she walked out, the rain began.
“I love you,” he yelled out the window.
This flash fiction piece is in response to Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers photo prompt.