Stepping out into the rain

She stood there at the corner of the corridor and looked out over her shoulders. It had been so long since she had heard from someone from that part of life. So much had changed. Yet when the call came and she heard the distant voice on the other end, she couldn't quite place it. She knew who it was. Yet that deliberate cautiousness of hers told her, it cannot be. Then when he asked her how she had been, it all came flashing back. The truth and also the fact that she had been hiding from it all this while. She stood rooted there, phone in her hand, trying to process the voice. It was pouring outside and the water was lashing across the glass panes of the corridor. Was the rain washing away the years she had dreaded this call? On a similar rain drenched sunday morning she had stood in the same lobby messaging, pleading her case. He had never bothered to reply. For a moment she closed her eyes and saw him glancing back at her, asking her to hurry up. She saw him as clear as if it was yesterday. He was talking to her on the phone and she was at a loss of words. It has been so long, life was good, work was fair enough, everyone was happy, it was a torrent of words. She still hadn't said anything after the initial hello.
"Do you like the rain?"
"I don't know. I like the sound of the drops on the leaves, I like to smell the earth, I sometimes, sneak up to the terrace to watch the clouds and hear the thunder. Yes, maybe I like the rain after all!"
"Do you dream a lot?"
"I dream of a day when I would stand with my arms spread out, in the rain and feel the drops on my skin. Not a care in the world. Content and happy."
"Maybe I will come with you."
She could hear him now. She shot out of her parallel world. He was asking her something. "Are you still there?". "Yeah". "What were you thinking about?". "I am stepping out into the rain". And she did.