Nothing happened today.
It was a perfectly boring day, with nothing worth fretting over happening at all. Even James felt underwhelmed, and he’s normally optimistic about the everyday grind redeeming itself.
But when he left right after five, we both hoped tomorrow would be somewhat more entertaining.
I was about to turn off the television and go to bed when I heard a car pull up in my driveway.
Lovelock Drive is so quiet, and the roar of this sports car could’ve woken the heaviest sleeper. I knew the sound well. It was Douglas’ Maserati, the one with the white leather seats.
It was the first car he picked me up in when we were secret lovers, screwing each other’s brains out without the judgment of others knowing.
I don’t know why I waited for him to knock on the door, but I did.
“What do you want?”
I know it’s not how you’re meant to talk to a boyfriend. He wasn’t my boyfriend, right now. He wasn’t the guy who cared about me and showed me how he felt. He was the guy making me question everything.
“I came to return this to you.”
He presented the blue Tiffany’s bag to me, the one I returned to his office two days earlier.
“I don’t want it.”
“Why? It’s Tiffany’s.”
“So I’m meant to love it because it comes from Tiffany’s? If you bought me a tie pin from Cartier, am I meant to love it even though I don’t wear ties?”
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