Because apparently I had decided to collect vices like souvenirs.
The door opened behind me.
Lily stepped out.
She said nothing at first.
Just came down two steps and leaned against the railing beside me, staring out over the back lot where ambulances idled and cigarette butts glittered like tiny sins near the curb.
Then she looked at the coffee.
Then the cigarette.
“Going for all the vices tonight, huh?”
I laughed.
One ugly sound.
“I didn’t know you smoked,” she said.
“I don’t.”
“You’re doing a convincing impression.”
“I’m expanding my hobbies.”
“Terrible hobby.”
“I’m aware.”
She held out her hand.
I gave her the cigarette.
She took one drag, coughed harder than I had, glared at it, and handed it back.
“That is disgusting.”
“Yeah.”
“You going to tell me?”
I stared at the ember.
Orange.
Tiny.
A little controlled fire.
How poetic.
“I think I’m still in love with him,” I said.
There.
The words left my body.
