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Paul and Marissa. He wore a dress shirt he rarely ironed, but this time it was pressed flat. Marissa was in beige and gold, hair curled, heels clicking softly as she stepped into the room.
They smiled as if they belonged. My stomach clenched. Vivien walked straight toward them.
Paul looked over her shoulder at me, smiled like none of it had happened, as if the last time he saw me hadn’t been in the rain, shouting while I held on to my dignity like a dying flame. I said nothing. My hand gripped the edge of the refreshment table.
Viven motioned to someone and a staff member stepped in. The conversation was short. Paul and Marissa stood their ground for a few seconds longer, then turned and walked out.
Marissa didn’t even glance back. The room slowly returned to its rhythm. People noticed the interruption, but no one asked questions.
I was grateful for that. Viven came back to my side, picked up a piece of fruit from the tray, and said, “Told you’d come.”
I nodded. She’d warned me earlier that morning she had seen a comment from one of Marissa’s friends online, something too specific to be accidental.
Viven was already three moves ahead. After the gathering ended, she walked me back upstairs. We said good night in the hallway and I slipped into my apartment.
Inside, I sat on the edge of the couch and waited. Not for anything specific, just waited. They had come not to apologize, not to explain.
They came to see what they could still get. But now they knew. I was not where they left me.
So, I did something I hadn’t done in years. I opened the side drawer of the hallway cabinet and pulled out a new notebook Vivien had given me. I clicked a pen and wrote one sentence across the top of the page.
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