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He opens his mouth to speak but I already know I won’t like what he has to say.
So I speak first, my words stopping and starting, jittery and breathy. “Look. I know. I know—you hate me. But—I just want you—to know. I never meant—to hurt—”
“I don’t hate you.” His voice is steel.
I freeze. “You don’t?”
He shakes his head, almost imperceptibly. I don’t take my eyes off his, but I already know… Everyone is staring at us.
Before relief can fill me, he says, “That would mean I feel something for you. And I don’t. You were just a fun plaything. That’s all.” He rubs the back of his neck as he looks around, then lowers his voice. “No fuck is worth this.”
Then he pushes open the door and heads out into the night, leaving me alone.
