“Really? That jealous?”
“I told you this morning – nothing’s changed in the last few hours.”
“So what are you doing here?” I shifted the subject.
“Visiting Sara, an American psychiatrist some friends in Ashkelon introduced me to. She recently left her hospital job and now only takes on special cases. She’s very selective. This is our second meeting. I think she’s fallen for me. She wants to keep seeing me for free. I’m not sure I’m ready for that.” I hadn’t expected such a long, detailed answer. It was the most she’d ever said.She shifted into drive and headed toward Tel-Aviv. This time, she didn’t cover her right cheek with her hand. I studied her from the side. She looked perfect, just like that morning. In real life, she was even more beautiful than in memory.We sped toward the Savyon junction. I had hoped the drive would stretch out, that we’d talk more – but the roads were nearly empty, and every light was green. We hardly spoke. I kept staring at her, hypnotized, until she turned and smiled.
“Don’t you ever get tired?”
“Of what?”
“Of staring at me all the time.”
“I love it. I keep discovering something new.”
“This morning, when I covered my cheek, I was hiding a pimple,” she admitted.
“I didn’t even notice. It disappears in your beauty.”
“Stop flattering me,” she said, without much conviction.
“I mean it. Swear to God.” I said earnestly.
“I don’t believe in oaths. Or in God at all.”
“I do,” I said quietly. “Sometimes I’m sure He arranges things.” But then I remembered the plan God supposedly had for Lily.
“Even this meeting?” she asked, cutting into my thoughts.
“This one too.”We fell silent again.
“Where do you live?” I asked as the car slowed, sensing the ride was ending. I wanted to stretch out every second.
“Not far,” she said curtly. When I lingered, she added: “But I’m not telling you exactly where – because tomorrow morning, you’ll show up at the door.”
“Take my number, just in case…” I kept hoping.
“I told you, no chance. I’m getting married.”
“What?!” The words hit me like a kick in the gut. I hadn’t seen it coming. Fuck.
“Yes. I’m getting married,” she repeated, twisting the knife.
“When?” I croaked, struggling to let go of the hopes and dreams I’d spun since the moment I saw her.
“Two months, give or take.”
“You didn’t say anything.”
“I don’t owe you anything.”
“You could’ve hinted.”
“I did. You ignored it. I saw.”The helplessness washing over me was terrifying. I felt that if I stayed in the car another second, I wouldn’t make it out.
“If anything changes – you know how to reach me. Shira has my number.” I refused to let go.
“Believe me, I know.”
