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A group is coming my way, running fast, but there’s one guy who runs alone, faster than anyone else. His body tenses as he picks up speed. He wears his hoodie, and I can see his phone strapped to his arm. An illusion, I tell myself, it’s not him. I’ve been down that road before thinking I saw him everywhere I went. He quickly runs past me. Tailing him are the rest of the runners in the group.

I continue to stretch my muscles when a woman slows down, stopping at the bench as well. She bends over, resting her hands on her thighs, trying to catch her breath.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude, but blimey, I can’t keep up with you lot.”

“Don’t worry, I’m the same.” I smile, noticing her thick British accent. “I think I spend more time as a benchwarmer than actually running.”

She laughs but slows down as she holds onto her rib cage, still trying to recover. Sitting down on the bench, I decide to join her.

“Do you run here a lot?” she asks

“Most mornings. Today I really need it.”

“Tell me about it. I haven’t had a moment to relax since I got here.”

“You’re not from here?”

“Manchester,” she answers proudly. “A long way from here.”

“Sometimes, the distance can be welcoming.”

It isn’t a coincidence I chose to reside in New York City, wanting to be as far away as possible from the West Coast. Not that it matters now, my past has finally caught up with me.

“Yeah, I do miss home.” She gazes wistfully into the sky. “But then again, home is where my man is.”

The feeling of being in love, there’s nothing like it in the world. If you’re lucky enough to have it, then hold onto it. How ironic, I think, the part about holding on. I did until the end, until there was nothing left to hold onto.

“Well, I best head off,” she announces. “I’ve got back-to-back meetings today. Can you believe that? It’s a Sunday for goodness sakes. It was really nice to meet you.”

“Nice meeting you, too.” I smile as she takes off, her long blonde hair shimmering in the morning sun.

***

Eric is already sitting inside at a table. As usual, his hand is glued to his phone. He glances up and stands as I walk toward him. With a kiss on both cheeks, he sits back down and motions for me to do the same.

“How’s the hangover?”

“How much did I drink?” I moan, sinking into the chair. “Everything is such a blur.”

“Let’s see, probably a bottle at the charity event, then maybe…” He starts counting his fingers. Oh God. I hang my head in shame, waiting to hear his response. “Maybe five shots at the club? I don’t know. I lost count after you disappeared on the dance floor.”

He sips his latte, grinning.

“Eric, I need you to be honest. What happened last night? I don’t remember anything after the shots I had at the bar?” I beg of him. I don’t tell him about the quick flashes running through my head, which are possibly my imagination running wild. “I mean, what happened with Lex and me?”

“That gorgeous man was all over you in the VIP area. We left to go dance, then when we came back, he’d disappeared, so you and I decided to dance, but before I knew it you and Lex were all over each other on the dance floor. Then you guys disappeared.”

I freeze, unable to say a single word. Covering my face with my hands, I let out a heavy sigh. Holy shit, did I fuck him in the club? With my eyes shut tight and drowning out the noise of the people around me, I try to remember what happened, but everything is so hazy. We were in a dark room, and I remember something felt cold on my back. My stomach begins to tie into knots, a loss of appetite knowing I’ll never get the answer without confronting Lex.

“Okay, so I take it from the silence you’re worried you fucked him?” Eric is straight to the point. “To be honest, Charlie, when I saw you coming out of the ladies’ room, you didn’t look like you had been fucked.”

“And how in hell would you know what I look like if I had been fucked?”

“I don’t know, legs wobbly, more disheveled?” He scowls, pursing his lips. “Your hair was pretty much intact as was your dress. Maybe he just felt you up. I wouldn’t worry about it too much.”

Maybe he thinks I shouldn’t worry about it too much, but this is Lex we are talking about here. This isn’t any new guy I can simply ignore. Every touch means something, and I crossed the line into dangerous waters without a life jacket.

Suddenly, I think of Julian, and the guilt is accompanied with nausea. I can blame the alcohol, right? You’re not eighteen anymore.

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