I could feel his glance from across the room.
It wasn't nice, like warm light from the sun or showers. It didn't leave me comforted.
I finished my drink and stood to go, grabbing my jacket from the back of my chair and swinging it over my shoulder.
Maybe if I moved quickly enough, he wouldn't get up or attempt to reconcile the past. Maybe if I moved to the door right now -
No.
I felt a hand on my arm. Cold, restricting.
It had never been comforting.
"How have you been?"
Even his voice is cold.
I don't miss this.
I turn, glancing at his face, his prized possession, even in the dark of night when he was leaving marks upon mine.
Even now, in this crowded room, in the dim lighting, I can remember how his voice sounded while he whispered.
"It will be okay". He hissed.
It had never been comforting.
"I've been fine". My voice is professional, lacking warmth, lacking want, lacking forgiveness or desire or the need for him to talk to me.
"I've never forgotten." I say. In my head.
"That's good." He strokes my arm. I move a step backward. I'm sure he could see the fear in my eyes. But I glance away. Maybe he imagined it. Doubtful. But maybe.
"Indeed." If we were texting, the conversation would be over now. I am desperate for an ending.
"You've turned into quite the... nice young lady". Too much emphasis on nice. He knows this. He flashes me an apologetic smile. Too much flirting in that smile. He doesn't acknowledge this.
"Thank you." My voice is low, drifting, across the small space. I am cornered here.
"I have work tomorrow. I should go."
"Do you want a ride?" His hand is back on my arm.
"I have a cab called."
"At least take my number." He grabbed my purse. And then my phone. Asked for the password. I gave it to him. Fear in my eyes. He put his cell and home phone numbers into my phone, slowly, carefully, looking up at my every few seconds. Then, he opens my facebook. Friends himself. Chooses a photo. Sets it as his photo for his contact. Smiles warmly. Brushes my hand.
I'm sure I'm shaking in fear. He pretends not to notice. I thank him. Walk away. Focus on my breathing. Focus. Focus. Focus. Focus.
I can't focus.
I want to delete his contact.
I slip into the cab.
It's raining.
I tell him my address.
I open my phone.
Open the contact.
Stare at the photo of my childhood family.