“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” The corner of his mouth hitches, my skin crawling as his gaze slides over it. Face. Breast.Between my legs.The sum of my parts. My only values.According to him.“Ghost of boyfriends past, eh?”
A gothic tale. One that, more than five years later, still haunts my sleep occasionally.
“I just got back. I’ve been traveling all this time. A bit of work. A lot of fun.” As he speaks, he stares up at the framed assemblage meant to be Tod’s take on time. “Bali. Hong Kong, the Solomon Islands.” He glances back at me. “I live in Dubai now. Just here on visit and saw Addsy in the pub. He told me about this place. Said how well you were doing.”
He doesn’t like that I’m doing well, that much is clear. If only I heeded that expression before, the way he’d looked at me when I saidno.
“Julian.” His name echoes through my brain in a hundred different ways.
Julian, I’ve missed you so much!
New love.
Julian, why aren’t you answering your phone?
Disquiet. Didn’t he like me anymore?
Pick up, Julian. It’s me again.
Desperation.
Julian, do you love me?
Abject happiness in his arms.
Julian, no.
Please, stop.
You’re hurting me.
The end. Of many things.
“What are you doing here?” My voice is frigid. Ironic, given that’s what he’d called me. What he offered as a reason.
You’re my girlfriend.
I thought you loved me.
You’re supposed to want to do it.
I have needs.
“Surprise!” His arms shoot out like he expects me to put myself into them.
I’d rather be punched hard in my tit.
“Bring it in, girl! It’s been—”
“A lifetime wouldn’t have been long enough.”
“Baby,” he wheedles, “don’t be like that.”
I turn away, then remember. Our skins fused, his chest to my back. The overwhelming sense of panic that he was stronger than me, that he would—
I glance down, realizing I’ve picked up a flute from the tray. It bears an arc of bright orange lipstick. I wrap it in my hand anyway as I turn back to face him.
“We’re closed.” My voice sounds strained. “You have to leave.”
