DAVE
I watched her.
Watched as she took every bite of her steak and mashed potatoes, cutting through the soft meat with precision. My eyes followed the movement of her fork, the way it lifted to her lips, the way her soft, swollen, and pink lips parted. The lips I had kissed too many times both physically and in my head. She chewed, swallowed, and repeated, completely oblivious to the rage that burned inside me.
The mouth she had the guts to share with that clown in front of the house without thinking of me.
I clenched my fists under the table, trying to suppress the images flashing through my mind, the way he had leaned in too close, the way she hadn't pushed him away at all, the way she had sat there, staring at him like he was someone who actually mattered. The memory seared itself deeper into my brain with each passing second, his hand brushing her arm, her smile widening at something he said, the way she tucked her hair behind her ear in that gesture I once thought was reserved f
