My hair stood on end, a shiver raced down my spine, and a lump came to my throat when I saw him. Actually, it didn’t have to be him, just the sight of his car would do it, or the smell of his aftershave, even if someone else was wearing it.
I would feel physically ill, sick in my stomach, and my head would start to pound. Migraine was imminent and I would have to get somewhere dark, quiet and cool to lie down.
It was unavoidable as we still lived so close to each other, even though we had long separated and divorced. The memories, insecurities, nerves and uncertainty raised their ugly heads so I did the only thing I could, and moved away.
Years later I returned and to my shock discovered he lived in the next road from where I had bought a small house. He drove a different car, had a new wife and family, but I remembered.
My hair stood on end, a shiver ran down my spine, and a lump came to my throat when he stood behind me in the supermarket queue.
Time melted away, all those years of therapy and rebuilding my life, put to the test at the whiff of a familiar aftershave.
I turned to face him. He blanched, left his basket on the floor at my feet, and walked away.
Two days later the For Sale sign was in his front garden.
Who was afraid of who now?
Written for Fandango’s Story Starter #10 when this week’s Story Starter teaser is: