heavy breaths.
Hair in knots.
Legs entwined.
I could die with the ecstasy of it.
The air shifts.
Her body freezes.
Her eyes fly open,
wide and guilty.
I am disoriented,
confused,
tumbling through fog.
Why would she stop so suddenly?
And then,
from across the room,
a gasp.
elise
“What thehell, Elise?”
I scramble off Mati, off the couch, blotting our kiss away with the back of my hand.
“Audrey!”
“Don’tAudreyme,” she says, storming into the room. She’s wearing her restaurant clothes: black slacks and a white button-down. Her hair’s tied back in a long pony. Her face is aflame. She looks at Mati. No, sheglaresat Mati, who’s half sitting, half lying on her sofa, exactly the way I left him. He’s gaping at me like,What should I do?
“You’re home early,” I say to my sister-in-law.
She ignores my mindless observation, instead thrusting a finger in Mati’s direction and spitting, “What’s he doing here?”
“He’s…” I glance at Mati again and then, because he’s so surprised he’s petrified, I offer him my hand. He grips it and I do my best to lug his solid frame up. It’d be comical, if every single thing about this moment weren’t completely screwed up. When he’s standing, folded in on himself but a head taller than Audrey and me, I say, “He’s my friend.”
“Yourfriend? Have you lost your mind?” She’s talking too loud; she’s going to wake Janie. “This is myhouse, Elise. Mydaughteris down the hall. You think it’s okay to bring someone likehimhere?”
I reach out to touch Mati’s arm. He’s trembling, and I feel, suddenly, like I’m going to burst into tears. If I’m embarrassed, he must be mortified. The way Audrey’s talking about him—like he’s a piece of trash I dragged in from the alley—makes my stomach roil.
“His name is Mati,” I say, like an introduction might fix this.
She clenches the strap of her bag. “I don’t care what his name is!”
She’s being so unfair, so spiteful, so mind-bogglingly rude, I feel like I’m addressing a stranger. “Please don’t judge him, Aud.”
Her eyes go wide. She wrenches her bag off and flings it onto the sofa, where it lands upside down, spilling keys and coins across the cushion. “If you don’t want me to judge him, don’t bring him into my house. Into mylife!”
Janie’s whimpers drift into the living room.
