2
The evening, which had devolved into a farce, finally ended.
Alex, with a drunk Chloe in his arms, left.
They hadn’t even walked out of my sight before they kissed under the garden lights.
Through the rain–streaked glass, I watched them calmly for a while.
<
Tue,
26 Aug
Then I lowered my head and carefully put the check away.
I pulled out my phone and tapped on the pinned chat.
A simple “Miss you a little” I’d sent before the party had received six replies.
Five hours ago: “1.”
Four hours ago: “Training now.”
Three hours ago: “Actually, I don’t mind being interrupted during training.”
Two hours ago: “They said it’s your birthday today.”
An hour ago: “Happy birthday!”
And the one that had just popped up: “I’m coming to see you.”
I curved my lips into a small smile.
I replied: “No need. I’ll come watch your game next week.”
The “Typing…” above his name flickered for a long time.
Then he sent two replies:
“Okay”
“Don’t mess with me.”
