She stiffens and leas back.
My body reacts before my mind finishes processing, and I cross the street without thinking, jaw clenched, speech forgotten.
The bell over the door jingles when I step inside the coffee shop. Warm air wraps around me as the smell of espresso and baked goods hits my senses. I focus on Iris.
Always, my Iris.
She hasn’t noticed me yet.
The man across from her keeps talking. I catch fragments as I approach.
“I just think people should be allowed to make mistakes,” he says. “I wasn’t ready then, but I am now.”
I stop three feet away.
Iris’s shoulders tense. “Having an affair and getting engaged to another woman behind my back, is more than a mistake, Dave. It’s a choice.”
The guy smiles, a practiced plastic smile, lacking sincerity. “But I’ve changed. When you disappeared like that, it made me realize what I lost.”
My hands curl into fists. She didn’t disappear. She survived a fucking coup.
I step forward. “She’s not interested.”
Both of them look up.
Iris’s eyes meet mine and the world tilts.
Shock, disbelief, and hurt flash across her face, and I feel each one like a slap.
The guy frowns. “Excuse me?”
I don’t take my eyes off Iris. “I said,” I repeat calmly, “she’s not interested.”
Iris stands abruptly. “Julian, what are you doing here?”
The guy looks between us. “You know this guy?”
I turn my gaze to him then. “Yes, I say. She knows me. And it’s time for you to leave.”
The guy bristles. “Who the fuck do you think you are?”
I smile at him. It’s not friendly. “Her husband,” I exclaim.
Iris gasps, but the rest of the coffee shop goes dead silent. You could hear milk foam collapsing.
Iris’s face drains of color. “What the fuck, Julian.”
The guy at her table laughs, short and disbelieving. “That’s not funny.”
“It wasn’t meant to be,” I say evenly and step closer to Iris, close enough to feel the heat of her, close enough to remind myself she’s real. I rest my hand on the small of her back, and by some miracle she lets me keep it there. “She’s my wife,” I continue. “And you’re bothering her.”
Iris shakes her head. “Julian?—”
The guy stands, nostrils flaring in anger. “You can’t just walk in here and?—”
I lean in, voice low enough so only he can hear. “Leave. Now.”
There’s something in my eyes that makes him reconsider. He glances at Iris, then back at me, clearly reassessing his odds. “Fine,” he mutters. “But if this is some kind of?—”
