Everything’s quiet after sex. Daylight fades, sounds of the busy street below dim.
‘Who are you going to travel to America with?’
‘Friends,’ I say.
‘Are you seeing one of your lovers there?’
She breaks our embrace abruptly, jumps out of bed and goes to the bathroom, tension in her every movement.
She returns to the bed. Sullen eyes won’t meet mine.
‘You see all those people. I’m here alone all the time.’
‘What about the German guy you were dating? And that other fling of yours in San Francisco?’
‘I’m not dating any of them. The guy in San Francisco just hit on me, I wasn’t interested.’
I look at her in disbelief.
‘I was thinking of you the whole time,’ she adds.
I can feel the crack widening. I know I can’t stay, not with a lie. It’s the beginning of our end.