WHICH MAN STAYS?
Throwing a lifeline made of sugar and bad jokes.
I stared at the photo, at his kind, goofy face. He represented the “do over” I could never have. A simple coffee that stayed a coffee. A laugh that wasn’t monitored. A choice that wasn’t engineered by Clara Finch.
My thumbs hovered over the screen. The tears kept coming, but they were quieter now. The image of Liam and Clara, fused in that kiss, flashed behind my eyes. It felt final. A door closing with a thunderous, silent crash.