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“It’s not enough for me to think you’re telling the truth either.”
“I live here,” I say slowly.
“Yeah, right in that exact spot apparently.”
“I like this chair.”
She looks at the other chair, the one across from me that I’m not occupying. Looking at it now that she is too makes me view it with fresh eyes. That thing looks brand new despite going through all the weather of all the seasons.
And then I forget how to think thoughts, because she comes over and sits down in it. Too close for my comfort, that’s for sure.
“It’s alright. The cushions are a little stiff,” she says. “You can’t be very comfortable.”
I can’t wrap my head around her talking to me like a normal person. I didn’t know she was even capable.
All I can do is gape at her.
She raises her brows.
“Hello?”
I set the yarn down on the table, and place my hands in my lap to hide their shaking.
“No one ever sits in that one. Mine has an imprint of my ass at this point.”
She fuckingsmilesat that. Maybe she has a twin, a much nicer one that showed up in her place. The real woman is probably driving recklessly through a school zone or something. Something that seems more like her than this.
Or I’ve fallen asleep outside again, and none of this is actually happening. It has to be one of those two things.
“Your guy friend sits here,” she says.
I gasp in shock.
“You have been watching me!”
She raises her hands.
“Calm down, I look out my window every once in a while.”
I know that much, I’ve caught her already.
“He’s not my friend. He’s my ex-husband,” I correct. Not that she deserves to know anything about me, but I don’t like the idea of anyone in the world thinking he and I are closer than we are.
“Huh.” Not a question, just a way of acknowledging my statement. “Your kid’s dad?”
“Why are you suddenly interested in talking to me?” I ask bluntly.
“I’m not. I just don’t have homework tonight.”
As if that’s a reasonable explanation.
“You’re a student?” I knew that much from my own eavesdropping, but I don’t know what else to say.
She nods, that’s it.
We have another one of those weird moments, where I know she’s staring at my face, and sheknowsthat I know. She’s not being subtle.
“Stop looking at me like that,” I say in a low voice. It’s kind of like she doesn’t know if she wants to throw something at my head or…
