Those Three Words

New York City. That was where I first met him. The Big Apple. Everything just seems more romantic there. More intense. More passionate.

The first thing I noticed were his eyes: as deep a blue as his NYPD uniform. Such a shame I was there on business, and we all know how well that mixes with pleasure. But just looking at him was pleasurable, my stomach doing that school-girl fluttering. I was a visitor, a consultant and it was his job to show me around. I was his charge and that excited me. I’m sure he was speaking as we made our way to the conference room but if he was I didn’t hear. I was still taken by the brilliant intensity of his eyes.

I stepped into the room and was all professional once again. No place for libido when your business was murder. For the next half hour my thoughts were devoted solely to the four victims that the very task force I was lecturing to was formed to avenge.

But as soon as the door closed behind my thoughts could turn away from death to life, from the worst of humanity to the best. That was the key to survival in a gruesome world, to allow light to replace the darkness. And nothing lit up a room quicker than Detective Ryan Taggart.

What happened after that is all a blur in my memory. We must have spoken because we made plans to meet for dinner. He offered to show me round the city, give me the guided tour. I neglected to tell him that I had visited Manhattan many times. There was something so powerful, so captivating about him and I knew then he would always have a place in my heart.

That evening was magical. It was so easy, so natural. Conversation flowed and we laughed like old buddies. He was a perfect gentleman. It was a different era back then and my heart beat just a little faster every time he held the door for me or took me by his arm. New York was a different city then and when we walked the streets he kept me close. Made me feel safe, secure. He kissed me, just soft and delicate and sealed our fate.

From that night onwards we spent as much time as we could together. We were very careful down at the precinct to remain cordial and polite. Forensic science was still in its infancy then, with many officers remaining sceptical about the value of a scientist at a crime scene, let alone a female one. Few showed some interest, most were indifferent towards me, some were downright rude. But Ryan, he got it. He always did have the uncanny ability to see intrinsic value, to look at the plain and see the inner beauty.

All too soon it was my final night in the city. I remember clinging to every moment, willing them to never pass. But of course they did. I was due back in Washington D.C and bound to Penn Station. I watched as Ryan unloaded my luggage from the cab, the only time since we’d met that there was tension between us. He carried the case behind him as we walked in silence, no words to express how we felt. Suddenly I heard a thud as he let my baggage hit the ground and we could keep ourselves apart no longer. I rushed towards him throwing my arms around his neck, him literally sweeping me off my feet. Our kiss this time was passionate and romantic. It was in this moment that he whispered three little words, those three words that have more impact than any others.

It may be cliché now but the romance of a train station goodbye is timeless. It was now certain; we would spend the rest of our lives together.

Looking into those blue eyes always takes me in my mind back to that time. Fifty years and three children later I’m still that girl, the love that we knew we would always share still as strong in my heart as that day in Penn Station. I was one of the lucky ones, I was lucky to have met him, to have known him, to have shared my life with him. Ryan Taggart. Detective Ryan Taggart.

I sat opposite him in the lounge of the house that we had lived in for over thirty years. The house where our children grew up in, where our Grandchildren came to visit. His blue eyes met with my green ones.

“Who are you?” He asked.

I smiled softly, trying to be as reassuring as I was capable of as my heart broke just a little bit more.

“It’s me, Joy” I said, reaching for his hand.

A smile spread across his face, the intensity that most days was now absent returned to his eyes.

“My girl’s name is Joy, we’re getting married soon. I know we’re young and it’s all so quick but when you meet someone that special you don’t let them slip through your fingers.”

“No, you don’t” I agreed.

They say that Alzheimer’s patients return to the time when they felt most comfortable, most alive. The strongest neuronal connections that they have left are the ones that made the biggest impact. He may no longer recognise me but I will always know exactly who I am to him. We were still that couple, kissing in the middle of the street, not caring who was watching.

“I love you” I whispered, kissing his forehead.

For a second, just a split second he looked at me and he remembered. And then, it was gone.