***LIAM***
As crowded as the room was, the sudden shift that opened up a view to the other side could only be a trick of fate. In a curve hugging matte gold dress that's more suited to a night out, her physical perfection would have caught anyone's eye. Flat stomach, round ass, and breasts which I'm fairly certain are larger than the last time I saw them. Her long tanned legs are accentuated by a glinting bracelet on her left ankle.
The mob closes ranks again, blocking my view, yet, I still need to close my eyes while I process. I fully believed I would never see her again. I wasn't prepared for this. Too much is rushing back into my consciousness. Memories I didn't know I still had.
"Tally." Stress has reduced my voice to a hoarse whisper. "She's here. Cinderella is here."
There's no response, but I can't manage to speak again. Though closed, my eyes have remained fixed in the direction I'd seen her. Upon opening them I find she is several meters closer and staring right back at me. Flashes of memories and a flood of emotions make it seem as though time has stopped.
The day we met, a blur of a girl ran right into me as I was entering a diner near campus. She was scrambling to get up when Sal, the owner, grabbed her by the collar.
"I thought I recognized you Girlie. It's bad enough that you're trying to skip out on your bill, but this is the second time you've done it," he sniped at her.
"I'm really sorry." She cried. "I haven't had a proper meal since Thanksgiving dinner at the church. Your BLTs are the best. I should have resisted the temptation of my empty stomach and taste buds." Copious tears dripped from her chin.
"Sal," I said as I pulled out my wallet, "how about I pay for her meal and you let her go?"
"Don't come back again. I won't forget next time," he growled at her.
She nodded her head and wiped her face on the sleeve of her thin jacket. While Sal ran my card, I set my wallet on the counter. When I went to put my card back inside, both it and the girl were gone. Mindlessly putting it down was a bad habit of mine, so my first thought was to search my pockets. Not finding it convinced me she'd taken it. I used a phone app and locator device I kept behind my ID to follow where she'd gone.
Catching her by the arm, I scowled "Is that anyway to repay a kindness?"
Tears began falling immediately, along with heavy sobs punctuated by apologies. Combining that with her comment in the diner, I was unable to stay angry. A cart nearby was selling hot chocolate, so I bought her a cup and asked for her story.
"Is what you said back there true?"
"Yeah. I've been homeless since the end of summer. I bounce around between couch surfing and shelters, but the holidays make that difficult. Shelters are full in cold months and I don't want to be a burden to my friends' parents so I make myself scarce. My mom's not around, so I can't get a work permit to support myself."
"Can't someone at school help?"
Wearily she shook her head. "I'm still registered with my old address and I don't want to get relocated and transferred during my senior year. It's a top school and I'm a good student. Despite what you may think because of... today." Tears began rolling again as she apologized more.
"Okay, that's enough. Listen, I can't help with your whole problem, but I own a small company and we need an office intern. The job is yours if you want it."
The words were hardly out of my mouth when she flung her arms around my neck and hugged me hard. Sorrow was replaced with joy and her face radiated happiness as though she'd never cried. It was my first experience with her quick-change emotions, but far from the last. Not that I was much better, my temper was on a hair trigger in those days and I blew up at her over dozens of little things when we were together.
Three fellow grad students worked with me in the office I'd set up in my apartment. For weeks after arriving, she flirted shamelessly with all of us and often charmed the others into taking over the menial tasks I'd assigned her. Irritation due to her loitering and negligence would have been enough to set me off, but unrecognized jealousy made my "reprimands" that much worse. My tirades were always quelled by her tears and soft, flirty behaviour.
On Valentine's Day, with a blush of shyness on her cheeks, she gifted me a box of chocolates. "It will probably make you mad to hear it, but I still want to say that I really like you. A lot." The kiss that followed was not the quick peck of puppy love, it was full of passion.
Holding her by the arms, it took all my willpower to stop and push her a step back. "How could I be mad at that? Especially because I like you, too."
Her face beamed as she rose up on her toes once more.
"However," I held her at bay. "You're seventeen. It might not matter to some people, but it matters to me. I want to spend more time with you, but no more of this. For now."
With her, I had a childish kind of fun that I'd apparently missed out on. We pulled pranks, had tickle fights, chased each other, and got rowdy when we played games. She endlessly tempted me with sexual advances, putting in even more effort when the venting of my anger over any random thing spilled onto her. I endlessly gave in to all her requests because any denial was met with buckets of tears.
Easily lapsing into spoiled girlfriend mode, she kept collecting a paycheck without being assigned more than the occasional task when I was too busy to pay attention to her. One such day, I'd sent her to scrub my bathroom. It was only after my partners left that I realized hours had passed since I'd seen her.
Still in my bathroom, instead of cleaning, she was laying in the empty bathtub with only a towel draped across her.
Averting my eyes was necessary to keep my personal vow. "What are you doing?"
Turning on the water she cooed, "There's no sense in cleaning the bathtub. You only take showers. The tub isn't dirty. So I thought maybe we should dirty it up together."
"What are you trying to do to me?" I groaned playfully. "Drive me insane?" I stepped out of the bathroom to save myself.
"I think you're forgetting what day it is," she sang out.
Stopping in my tracks, I checked my calendar with a whoop. "Why didn't you remind me? Forget taking a bath." Stopping the water before pulling her out of the tub, her naked body was suddenly on display. I don't even remember getting undressed and into the bed.
In her attempts to convince me it was okay to fall into her seduction, she'd told me she wasn't a virgin early on. Still, I wasn't expecting her to be so expressive and active. Although, considering the dramatics of our lows, highs, and every mood in between, it was only fitting that our sex life was also vigorous and performative. And addictive.
About three weeks later, she was being unreasonably irritable and clingy.
"Would you stop whining about it!" I roared as she yanked on my arm, preventing me from putting on my shoes. "For fuck's sake, I have to go to my goddamn school to finish some research for my fucking thesis which is due soon! It doesn't fucking matter if it's the weekend! Why can't you seem to understand that?!"
"Because I love you and I don't want to spend any time away from you!" she yelled then crumpled into a sob on the entryway floor.
That was the first mention of the L-word from either of us.
"Fuucckk," I exhaled the exclamation into my hands as I slumped down beside her. "When school is over, we can get married and spend pretty much ever single fucking day together."
Instantly she quieted and lifted her cropped shirt to wipe her face, exposing her whole torso. "Do you mean that?" She baby-talked as she climbed into my lap and squished my lips into a loose pucker.
I nodded.
"Do you love me?"
I nodded again, already taking off our clothes.
Some people have sweet, separate, stories for their first "I love you" and for the proposal. An all-in-one event starting with a fight and ending with to sex on the hard, dirty floor does not qualify. To top it off, we'd met less than half a year prior.
Perhaps the least dramatic event in our relationship was our breakup. There was no yelling, no begging, no crying. Mainly because she wasn't present. Upon returning from a trip with the men in my family, I discovered all of her belongings were gone. All communication lines were ignored or blocked.
Personal privacy laws meant dead ends at all the high schools in the area I thought she lived, the nearby women's shelters, and of course at any of the colleges she'd considered attending. With her fairly common name, online search results were just too numerous to sort through.
Only much later did I realize the similarity of our beginning and ending: in both cases she ran away from me as soon as she'd taken what she wanted. On the day we met I was able to catch up to her, when she left, it was like she simply vanished.
Until today when she suddenly reappeared. On the arm of another man.
Shit. Shit. Shit. Although I still can't seem to vocalize, I'm shouting in my head.
Movies use slow motion when the protagonist's car is being rammed by a truck and this moment feels a lot like that. Only seconds have passed so Tally is still occupied with a conversation and has yet to notice my panic. Finally breaking from the trance, I'm able to tug on her wrist until she excuses herself, pivoting to face the same direction as I am.
"Shit." Tally echoes my thoughts.
This very rare swear shocks me back to full awareness, enabling me to unlock my gaze and turn to see the tight smile she's plastered on.
Barely moving her mouth she mutters cryptically, "I guess there's no avoiding it now. It's time to meet the ex."
"Hello," the man greets us when there's only a scant two meters between us.
'Shit. Shit. Shit.' is still on repeat in my mind preventing me from quickly processing what is happening. So before I can even form appropriate words, Tally responds.
"I didn't expect to see you here." Still maintaining the strained smile, her focus is on the young man.
She knows him? Shit. Shit. Shit.
"Although maybe with your love of animals, I should have realized it was possible since I knew you'd come back to town. But you never mentioned that you weren't alone."
"Sorry Honey. Meeting by chance in that restaurant, didn't give us time to really talk. Then, when I was writing the letter I asked Zayan to give you, I was thinking it would be easier to mend our friendship in baby steps before getting to the sore points. Starting over between the two of us first."
"But it's not just the two of us. And anyway, why would that be a sore subject? It's been six years. I'm glad to see you're still together. At least it means that you breaking up with me for her was for true love and not a short fling."
Shit. Shi– Oh fuck. If the man with my ex-girlfriend is Tally's ex-boyfriend... Fuck! My ex-girlfriend is Tally's ex best friend!