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“I’m so sorry, Anna. That’s awful.”
“I know. Then this… photo… what if he sends it to other people?”
She shakes her head for a moment, then she jerks her chin towards my bag. “Show me.”
“No way. I don’t even want to talk about it anymore.” I knock back the rest of my drink. June motions to the waiter to get us another round.
“Okay. Tell me about the dinner with Isabelle, then,” she says. “What happened?”
I hop from one bad experience to the next. I describe the whole evening, including the fact that Isabelle arrived so early that I wasn’t even ready and I had to sit through dinner looking a hundred years old while she looked like she’d just stepped out of a fashion shoot.
June frowns. “How early?”
“More than half an hour.”
She nods. “That’s why.”
“What do you mean?”
“She came early so you wouldn’t be ready and she’d look fabulous. Compare the pair, sort of thing.”
I think about this for a moment. “Seriously?”
She taps the side of her nose. “Old trick, my friend.”
“Wow, that’s nasty.”
“That it is. What happened then?”
I backtrack, tell her about finding the receipt for the necklace, and then seeing it on her at the market that day, and again at my house.
“Maybe he gave it to her a long time ago,” June suggests. “When they were still…you know…”
“Screwing behind my back? Except the date isn’t very old. Last month.”
“You’re sure it’s the same necklace?”
“I checked with the jewelry store.”
“Ah. Five hundred dollars you said?”
“And ten.”
“Huh. A gift like that? It’s a commitment.”
“Thanks, June, I really needed that!” I laugh quickly to take the sting out of my words. “Anyway, forget the necklace. It’s the least of my worries.” I tell her about the kiss, which is the crux of the matter. Anything else I could explain away, even her arriving too early, but not that.
But saying it out loud is a mistake. As long as it was small and wrapped tightly inside my mind, it was only a memory, and possibly a dream. I still had a chance then, but not now. Now Luis and Isabelle are out in the open; I’ve let them out of the box. Their kiss exists not just in my mind, but in June’s, too. Isabelle belongs to Luis now. Extraordinary, beautiful, talented—or so he says—Isabelle. And then there’s me. Sad, old, crazy.
It feels like hours later that we leave the bar. I feel regretful, like I talked too much. I’m vaguely annoyed with June for letting me.
I zip up my jacket and wrap my black scarf around my neck. June wants to call me an Uber. She probably thinks I’m too drunk to do it myself which makes me annoyed again. I hug her tightly and tell her I will walk, it’s not far and the cold air will do me good. She gets into her ride and waves goodbye as I adjust my black beanie over my ears and slide my hands into my gloves.
I take a moment to get my bearings and I have to check maps on my phone to get it right. I start walking, turn right on West Huron, left on Detroit Avenue. There are still lots of people around, which is good I think, as it makes me less conspicuous. After about a mile I turn onto West 38th, then Franklin, and finally I’m outside her door.
The light is on inside. I stand in the shadows for a while, watching. She walks past the window. She’s holding the phone next to her ear and I wonder if she’s talking to Luis. She laughs, throwing back her pretty head, and rests the tips of her fingers on her throat.
Suddenly she turns around and looks right at me, and my heart skips a beat. She knows I’m here. I could go home. I should go home. There’s still time.
