Come on. How fast are you?
She points down the beach, at a red balloon in the distance.
See that red dot down there?
You'd never beat me to that.
She smiles. Off she goes. I go tearing after her. It feels as if I've been chasing her all my life, and now, six months after separating from Brooke, I'm literally chasing her. At first it's all I can do to keep pace, but near the finish line I close the gap. She reaches the red balloon two lengths ahead of me. She turns, and her peals of laughter carry back to me like streamers on the wind.
I've never been so happy to lose.