This was her party and I resented you a bit for inviting me here. Well I suppose it was your party, yours and hers together. The way we had had many of our own before. My biggest nightmare would be walking through that door and finding a steward offer me a cocktail named after your engagement. Something about being betrothed or having more feelings for her than you were ever capable of having for me.
I think I found your elusiveness endearing, right up to the point when I didn't. Right up to the point when I knew you were not coming back. And it became abundantly clear to me that you reached your hand out only when I unclasped mine from yours. You put your fingers in the small of my back, but only when I shivered and slithered away in the presence of others. You kissed the back of my neck, but only when my hair was draped so that you couldn't see it. You believed in me, in us, just enough to feel okay whispering sweet nothings, but not enough to make remarks before midnight.
And there she was, in our old bedroom, draped along the side of a deep green velvet armchair. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen and it made me wonder if you had ever compared us.
Someday, I knew we would grow further and further apart, until we no longer imagined ourselves as the people who would bury each other. I think I am almost there. But you, you seem quite taken with me, even in her presence.
Maybe because of my arm candy. But certainly because I held my back to you in the moonlight and beyond.
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