I knew this would be my last chance to see her. It had been eight weeks, and she was expecting me to have had another lover to level the playing field. I was not the type of person to hump and run. Not surprisingly, she had a couple fucks before her big trip. A ” it just happened and I haven’t seen you in a month” as if, I was the one avoiding her.
Over chicken wings and a drink, we tried to make conversation. Distracted by a voracious appetite and phone bustling with texts from her current lover. She gave a stupid reason as she compulsively flipped her hair from her lying eyes. I drank my beer and watched her self-soothed. All the while, I kept playing the tapes in my head of our previous conversations. The past year, I had been a sitting duck waiting to be foie gras.
Image taken from Google.
Her mourning coffee 