Scottie scoffs. “I’ll swing by tomorrow and close out our tab.”
As I fight the nausea threatening to expel at any moment, I put my coat on, willing myself to not look for him.
Why is he here? After his parents moved I truly didn’t think I’d ever see him again. He has no reason to be here.
“Jesus Fucking Christ,” Scottie says under her breath. “Like damn magnets.”
She’s staring behind me. I don’t even have to ask. I know it already. He’s spotted me and he’s coming this way.
“Ellie girl?” His voice is in disbelief, but still so warm and velvety I might just disintegrate on the spot.
I close my eyes, trying to wake up from this dream. It has to be a dream. This isn’t real.
“Ellie,” he repeats. “I know you heard me.”
Gnawing on my bottom lip, I already feel the pressure of moisture stirring behind my eyes. I can’t cry. That would be silly. I can’t cry over things that are my own fault.
I breathe deeply, past caring if he can see the rise of my shoulders if I do, and spin to face him.
My knees give out the second our gazes collide, and it’s only because I’m holding onto the bar that I don’t completely collapse.
Adrian is next to him, but I can barely see him. I can barely see anything—anyone but him. It’s all a blur, only Dominic is clear.
“It is you.”
He steps closer.
I step back.
The disappointment that flashes on his face may as well stab me.
“Hi,” I say, my voice too bright and breathless. “We were just leaving.”
I move to walk past him, but his hand wraps around my elbow softly. Soft enough for me to pull away, but I don’t.
“Stay.” His voice is quiet, just for me. “Let me buy you a drink. Maybe we can talk…”
I don’t want to talk. I’m not ready to talk. And I’m not sure I ever will be.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I tell him with a force in my voice I don’t feel. Maybe if I come off as a bitch, it’ll be better. It’s better if he hates me. It’s easier.
“Feels like déjà vu. Me begging you to stay, you leaving anyway.”
I clench my jaw, tears fighting to come out. “I don’t have time,” I grit, barely holding myself together.
He tilts his head, his eyes raking over my face, seeing too much. I jerk my face down, hating his eyes on me.
“You don’t have five minutes?”
Yanking my elbow out of his hold, I step back. “Not for you, I don’t.”
And then I’m pushing through the crowd, not caring ifScottie is behind me or not. I can’t breathe in here. I need to get out before I suffocate. The second I’m out the back exit, I lean over the railing of the stairs and puke, the tequila projectiling out of me in angry spurts. A few moments later, warm hands are soothing my back.
“Get it all out, babe,” Scottie says in a hushed, motherly tone that’s so unlike her. She’s usually even worse at comforting than I am.
“Why is he here?” I ask, still leaned over the railing. With nothing left to vomit, hot tears start falling down my cheeks.
“I don’t know,” she whispers.
