Greek (Palm South University)

It’s already filling up with patrons in business-casual dress, each of them eager for happy hour after a hellish day. Jarrett orders himself a rye whiskey neat, and I opt for a glass of red wine, knowing I won’t be drinking much of it so I can say what I need to with a clear head.

I wait until Jarrett takes the first sip of his drink, hissing through his teeth a bit when he does. And when he finally looks at me again, his dark eyes shielded under bent brows, he sighs.

“Well,” he says. “You’ve been ignoring me. I guess I should have known this was coming.”

“I’m sorry,” I breathe. “I… I’ve been a coward.”

He shakes his head once, frowning even more, but doesn’t say anything else.

“I don’t know where to start,” I admit.

“How about by telling me you’ve made your choice,” Jarrett says, and then his eyes hit mine again. “And that it’s not me.”

My nose stings. “I’m sorry,” I whisper.

He nods, looking away again, his eyes on the bottles lining the back of the bar.

“I loved you,” I start, not knowing where the right place is, just knowing I have to say something. “And… I love you still.”

His eyes shoot to mine.

“Maybe that will never change,” I confess. “I think… I think there’s a part of me that will always belong to you.”

He swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing hard in this throat.

“But what we have,” I continue, circling the rim of my glass with my fingertip. “At least, what we have now… it’s purely physical. It’s chemistry and carnal need,” I say, meeting his gaze once more. “But it’s not real love. I think we both know that.”

“It could be.”

“Maybe,” I say. “But… I’m not sure what we have anymore, Jarrett — past that desire to fuck.”

The words slap him across the face, the sting visible to anyone around us.

“I don’t trust you,” I admit on a cracked voice. “And I don’t think you trust me, either. Do we want each other? Yes. But you broke me. And I broke you, too.”

Jarrett nods, taking a long pull of his whiskey.

He doesn’t say a word.

“I’ve done a lot of thinking in the past few months, a lot of self-reflection, a lot of thinking about why I feel the way I do, why this has been so hard for all of us.” I tilt my head a bit. “It’s the strangest thing, thinking back to that time when we were together. Because… so much of the time, we weren’t actually together.”

Jarrett opens his mouth to argue, but I continue.

“Think about it. The first time we met, we fucked in a parking lot. Then, we found out you were the graduate assistant for one of my professors.” I wet my lips. “I became your mouse. You wanted me because you couldn’t have me, because I was off-limits, and I loved to play that game, to make you want me, to parade other guys in front of you to drive you mad until you snapped. And it worked. You did snap, and then…”

“We dated.”

“Kind of,” I admit. “But think about it. For a long while, we played games. Mostly me, I admit that, but even when I showed up at your door and confessed that I had deeper feelings, I remember being so scared I nearly vomited on my way up to your place.”

His brows fold in at that.

“You scared the shit out of me,” I whisper. “Because I knew, even then, that you aren’t the kind of man who is kept by any woman.”

I know the look washing over him in this moment, that realization, that uncomfortable feeling of being viewed under a microscope and having someone peg you down in a way you didn’t even know yourself.

“When we were finally official, you left. And I don’t blame you for that,” I say quickly when I see him growing on the defense. “You were going after your dream job, what you want in life, and you should. But that’s what I’m saying. How much time did we really spend together, where it was truly us?” I pause. “How much do you really know about me, other than the way I moan your name?”

“Jess…”

“You wanted me so badly when you couldn’t have me,” I whisper, tears blurring my vision of him. “And then found me an annoyance as soon as you did. When you were in New York, I felt like a stain on your shirt that you couldn’t get rid of, like a rash you so desperately wanted to hide.”

“I came to visit you,” he argues. “I took you and your friends out, I—”

“Once, Jarrett,” I interrupt. “One time. And we fought even then.”

Silence.

“The only reason you want me now is because you came back and I was taken. You get a rush over me being off-limits to you — especially when you can break those walls and prove that I still want you, despite the consequences.”