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I feel like crying.
“I...um...I’m just gonna…” I beam a fake smile at Tristan, then at Nick. “I’m gonna look around.”
I finish my drink and hand Tristan the empty glass before heading down the stairs. The music is louder downstairs, and dancing bodies are everywhere. It’s suddenly too much, too much noise, and too many strangers. When I see a wide-open doorway leading to what looks like a patio, I head in that direction.
Outside, a few people are hanging around an unlit swimming pool. A guy wearing thick eyeliner and a glittering shirt offers me something to smoke. I shake my head. I have an idea of walking around the house to the front and deciding what to do from there. Maybe I’ll call a car service. Or maybe I’ll just keep walking until I forget everything that’s happened since I met Tristan.
I reach the far end of the pool before I hear Tristan’s voice behind me.
“Cora?”
I don’t reply.
“Cora.” I feel him reaching for my hand, and I pull it away before turning to face him. His expression is so full of concern that I’m tempted to pretend there’s nothing wrong and let him hold me.
“Why didn’t you tell me what you do?”
Guilt flashes across his features. It’s clear it didn’t slip his mind. He chose not to tell me. Suddenly, I wish he wasn’t so handsome, so perfect. So right.
“I told you what I do,” he says. “I’m a software engineer.”
I snort. “You didn’t tell me you’re more successful than the average software engineer.” I scowl up at him. “If I google you now, will I find that I’ve been having sex with a tech millionaire?”
“Yes,” he admits, with no change in his expression.
“Why didn’t you tell me? Did you think it would make me see you differently?”
“It is making you see me differently right now, isn’t it?”
“Only because you weren’t honest.”
He rakes one hand through his hair. “Why does it even matter? I’m leaving this weekend. I didn’t know sharing every detail of my life was a prerequisite for hooking up with someone.”
His words hurt. So much. But he’s right. I know he’s right. I’m overreacting. I shouldn’t care. I’m not his girlfriend. After this weekend, we’ll never see each other again.
“I...um.” I bite my lip. My eyes are stinging with tears. I look up at the roof of the house. Clay tiles. I wonder if they’re bright red during the day. Like in the paintings. I blink rapidly, trying to keep the tears from falling. “You’re right,” I tell Tristan, my voice level. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t really care. I just hate the idea that you thought you had to hide your wealth like I’m a gold-digger panting after your money.”
He’s quiet. “Cora, I—”
“I’m tired,” I continue, interrupting him. I don’t know how long I can keep myself from bursting into tears, and I don’t want him to see me cry. “I think I’ll go home.”
“I’ll take you.”
“I’ll Uber.”
“You know I won’t let you go home by yourself,” he says matter-of-factly. “I’ll take you.”
I decide not to argue. I follow him to his car and wait while he sends Nick a quick text, then we’re driving back to my place.
Outside, the city is going to sleep. I gaze out the window, watching people on the sidewalk, the brightly lit shops, the emptying squares… I don’t want to talk. I don’t want to look at Tristan because I know that if I do, I’ll cry.
When did I become so attached to him that the thought of losing him has the power to wreck me so totally?
I want him to find a reason to stay. I want to be the reason he stays.
At my place, he parks the car, but remains silent. I’m still facing away from him, but I can feel his eyes on me.
“Goodnight.” My voice is barely audible. Without waiting for a reply, I get out of the car, pushing the door shut behind me. I start toward the gate, then hear the car door open behind me. I don’t stop walking until he says my name. When I turn around, Tristan is standing a few steps behind me and even now, it hurts to look at him. “What?” I ask him, my voice strained.
