Page 13 of His Body, Her Heart

I spat at him, “The only thing you’re meant for is a prison sentence, Joey. If you ever get anywhere near me or Hilde again, I’ll slap a restraining order on you so fast your head will pop off. Now do everyone a favor and fuck off.”

Again, I thought he would slap me. Then I saw him take a step toward me, and he looked so feverishly desperate and sad, I thought he’d try and kiss me.

But I said firmly, “Next time I see you, Joey, it better be at your funeral. Because if you’re not dead yet, I’ll make sure you are soon.”

This wasn’t completely unexpected for me. I’d been tired of him for a while. His constant “I love you’s” and the desire to sleep over at each other’s house had grown tedious and inconvenient.

But he looked surprised. So surprised he didn’t argue. He simply disappeared into the crowd.

I didn’t see him for two years after that. Until the morning he showed up at my house.

But he got one more small revenge on me that day. Hilde was so shook up after what happened that she asked to go home. I let her, of course, and paid her for the day.

I worried whatever he said ruined whatever she thought about me. It was better if she knew, I consoled myself. Better she know the type of woman I am and not get any ideas I’m more good than I really am.

Somehow, I cried myself to sleep that night. It was a strange sensation.

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