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(Three and a half years later…)

I grab a pack of Tylenol and a bottle of water, then go stand in the line so I can pay for it. Lately, it’s been my lunch every day.

As soon as things quiet down at work, I’ll go see a doctor. In the meantime, the Tylenol will just have to do the job.

I decline a bag and shove the Tylenol in my suit pocket. When I turn to leave, someone takes hold of my arm.

“Marcus?”

We hold up the line as I stare at her, too shocked to react immediately.

Fuck my life.

“Can you wait while I pay? I’d love to hear how you’ve been,” she says.

I take a step to the side, never taking my eyes off her.

Willow.

The woman who drove me to alcohol. Now there’s a time in my life I don’t want to remember. Jaxson threatened to commit me to rehab. That’s how bad things were.

Willow.

We went from being friends to sending each other generic birthday and Christmas messages.

“What’s it been? Four years? How are you?”

It’s been three years and five months. I’ve tried not to keep count, but it’s hard when she sends me a reminder every birthday and Christmas of what I lost.

“I’m good. How are you?” I’m surprised that my voice sounds as if I actually don’t give a fuck, even though I’m the furthest thing from calm right now.

I should tell her to go to hell, but instead, my eyes are glued to her face. I drink in everything about her. She looks exactly the same, still fucking beautiful.

“I’m great. Do you have time to have coffee with me?”

My eyes drop to her smile, and it feels like someone is slamming a sledgehammer into my gut.

That smile.

Fuck, the sun used to rise and set with that smile. Then she ripped it away from me, leaving me in perpetual darkness.

“Sure.”

Wait! What?

Hell no, I don’t want to have coffee with her. Have I lost my fucking mind?

“There’s a coffee shop across the road.”

Yes, I’ve lost my mind. It must be the headaches. What the fuck am I doing following her out of the drug store? Shit, her ass is still sexy as fuck.

“What are you doing in this part of town?”

“I came to see a client. I saw the drug store and stopped for something.”

I’m torn between wanting to spend just a moment in the light with her and walking away before she burns me again.

We find an open table, and place our orders before Willow asks, “How’s business?”

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