Familiar

We met in a cafe off the high street. His blurry profile photo had shown dark hair, chubby cheeks and a friendly smile and while the cheeks were a little chubbier in real life, I wasn't disappointed. Something about him made me wonder if we'd bumped into each other before, but I couldn't work out where. Men had been off the agenda for so long I didn't even notice them any more. My father's serial affairs and my own disaster of a marriage had shattered my faith in relationships. But I was lonely, and it was time to move on. Peter's emails made me laugh and when he suggested we meet I couldn't say no.

After a nervous start we chatted over coffee and cake, our faces lighting up as we realised how much we had in common. He loved singing; I was in the local choir. I dreamed of travelling; he'd spent six months in Asia. We both loved cats and curry, hated jazz. It seemed like the perfect match. We'd only been together an hour yet it felt like we'd known each other forever, or in another lifetime. I started to fall for this warm-hearted man, imagined waking in his arms.

I finished my coffee and asked Peter if he wanted another. He nodded and winked, sending shockwaves of emotion to my stomach. As I turned towards the counter an image of my father flashed before my eyes and suddenly I realised why Peter was so familiar...