And then a voice slices through the noise.
“Allison. There you are.”
My spine goes stiff.
My eyes shut.
My stomach caves in.
“Raymond,” I say through a clenched jaw.
When I open my eyes, he’s already beside me,
walking with me the rest of the way to the bar.
Andrew watches us,
eyes darting between me and Raymond,
then back again.
Whatever existed between us?—
whatever gravity had me rooted to the floor?—
vanishes.
Andrew stands taller.
Then his face resets,
wipes clean,
smooths over like glassware.
Professional. Indifferent. Bartender neutral.
As if I’m no one.
And now?
I wanna flip this whole place upside down,
shove the glasses off the bar,
grab him by the collar, and say?—
don’t you fuckin’ dare pretend I’m just another face in this room.
But I don’t move.
All I’m capable of is standing.
While being nobody.
And he stands there, pretending I’m nobody.
Raymond knocks once on the polished bar.
