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Me: How long?

No response.

Me: Roman.

Nothing.

Me: HOW LONG?

Finally, he responds.

Roman: Cantaloupe.

I gasp. “No fucking way.”

He knew the whole fucking time.

Oh my God. He watched all of it.

My face burns.

Me: You could've said something.

Roman: It was more entertaining letting you think I didn’t know you were there.

I stare at the message, then slowly smile.

Because Roman just admitted something. He could've stopped me. Could've confronted me. Could've left. Could've disappeared.

Instead, he let me follow him through an entire grocery store while I nearly destroyed three displays and publicly announced that I don't have hemorrhoids.

Because he was entertained.

Me: You like when I stalk you.

Nothing.

I grin.

Me: YOU DO.

Still nothing.

Me: Roman likes being stalked.

His response comes immediately.

Roman: Don't push it.

I laugh.

Me: See you next Tuesday.

No response.

I slide my phone into my purse, still smiling.

Fine. He wins that round. But I learned something too.