And Ifeelthe second the recognition slams into him.
His mouth opens.
Shuts.
He knows her,
but he’s searching for the name.
He licks his bottom lip, buying time.
He’s thinking hard,
losing fast.
Then comes that pause. That too-long,
you-done-fucked-yourself-bropause.
And when he finally speaks,
a laugh bubbles up my throat.
“Elle.”
Like he had to reach for the name.
Like he had to dig it out of storage in his brain.
No time to dust it off before handing it over.
4 /BABY, PLEASE DON’T GO
AEROSMITH
Elle stands there,
watching her own name fall out of his mouth
like it was a question, a guess,
or thewrongname.
But it wasn’t. I don’t think.
With her arms crossed?—
“You forgot my name?”
Andrew’s exhale is cut up around the edges.
“No,” he says too fast and defensive.
Then there’s silence.
I sip my coffee,
minding my business,
