Melissa again snorted, flashing the quickest of smiles before returning back to stoic. I was sensing incredible fatigue on Melissa’s part—maybe she needed another two weeks before we hung out, or maybe she just needed, ironically, a more energizing setting than a cup of coffee in her hand. I couldn’t stay here and expect anything to change.
I’d have to see her again.
Or, I’d have to change the setting.
“Long as he doesn’t hurt Hailey, I don’t give a shit,” Melissa said, more of a dismissal than a truth.
“Sure, but hey, look, I’m getting kind of hungry. You want to move to dinner and drinks.”
Her eyes fluttered wide, and again, it was enough for me to know. She wanted to say yes. But again, she pulled herself together.
“No, thank you, I got plans with Hailey. Next time, though, we…”
She stopped talking. She realized what I had recognized in her words.
“Next time?”
I didn’t keep it to myself. There was no reason to.
Melissa had let the cat out of the bag with her words about how she really felt. After all these years and all our troubles, she still wanted to see me for something more than a simple catchup chat.
