The First Time She Said No.

She liked him because she knew him. Seven years out of twelve. She knew what he liked, who he liked, how he liked it. She called him when it got hard. She called him in the middle of the night. She knew he’d pick up. He’d have the right things to say. Hushed, leveled words that had been honed through two degrees and time spent staring down her thong in high school. “Sorry I have to be quiet, my roommate is sleeping. I care about you. It’s okay.”

His hand is on her lap.

“No, I’ll know when I’ll find right woman. I’m not a good boyfriend.”

You’d think he’d care enough to do what she liked.

“I tried to get back with her. She’s a wonderful person”

Her underwear’s tucked behind her knees.

“You know if I’d sent this to you, you’d be begging for it right now.”

She’d never realized how many patterns were embossed onto the corolla’s steering wheel.

“I’m sorry, if I offended you in any way.”

They live in the same city now. They still don’t talk.

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