You were sitting idle, staring at the computer screen intently. I sat near your leg with a newspaper, pretending to read. Something was bothering you. Your eyes were distant, little beads of sweat formed on your nose.
She sauntered in, tall, quite big, a gentle smile playing around her lips. We looked up, startled. I refused to acknowledge her presence. I excused myself and went out for a walk. Bought my favourite coffee, smoked a cigarette. Humming a tune, I stepped on the sidewalk, crushing a few dry leaves under my feet.
I wondered what you two were talking about. Maybe you were looking at her, admiring the curve of her cheek. Maybe your fingers brushed against hers as you served her tea. Maybe you were dissecting current world politics.
She looks at you lovingly, holding your gaze. You brush aside your meandering thoughts. You are determined to be in love with me.
I walk back slowly, impatiently pushing truant strands of hair away from my forehead.
You smile at me. “Where were you? I was waiting for you.” I look around the room, sniffing discreetly for a whiff of her fragrance. You look at me strangely, “Are you okay?”, you ask, touching my chin.
I move away, a little ashamed, a little surprised.
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