Obsessed

I start walking towards the door, hopeful that she'll take the not-so-subtle hint and follow me. She doesn't.

"Your mail was delivered to me by mistake again." She hesitates briefly before continuing, "There's another letter for Mark, dear. I'm sorry. "

I feel an instant heaviness in my chest. "I'll get it from you when I pick up your shopping list." I avoid making eye contact with her. The pity that's always present in her gaze isn't welcome.

She moves towards the door, stopping to touch my cheek. "Time will help, dear."

I smile meekly, knowing she means well. "I know it will. I'll be by within the hour."

***

"I'm tired of this." I toss the white envelope addressed to Mark on the table as I take my seat across from Liz in a busy mid-town bistro.

"It's about time you got here." She glances at the gold watch on her left wrist. "You're late again."

"Not today." I wave my index finger at her as the waitress approaches. "Just don't, Liz."

She picks up the envelope as the friendly woman asks for my drink order. "Iced tea," I say as I iron my hands across my lap, smoothing the blue cotton fabric of the dress I'm wearing.

"He's doing this on purpose." She pushes the envelope back to me. "Mark wants you to get his mail so he has an excuse to see you again."

"Why? We have been over this so many times I've lost track." I slip the letter into my purse. "I just want this to be over. It's been six months."

Liz takes a long sip of the water in front of her. "He feels bad for what happened. I think he just wants you to forgive him."

"You're kidding, right?" My voice is slightly raised. "Don't side with him, Liz. He was the one who cheated on me."

"I'm not, sugar." She reaches across the table to cradle my hand in hers. "I'm really not. I just hate seeing you like this."

"I'll handle it." I motion to her that the waitress is once again approaching. "What are you having?"

We eat lunch in silence. The uncomfortable subject of Mark, my ex fiancée, clouds the air. It isn't surprising given the fact that Mark and Liz had been friends well before I'd fallen head over heels for him. Even if she didn't want to admit it, I knew that she always felt torn when we talked about him. As the waitress clears our plates I decide to touch on Liz's focus of the moment. "Did you see Brighton after I left last night?"

Her face brightens instantly. "We went for a drink."

"Do tell." I lean in anxious to hear if her encounter with the infamous artist was anything like my awkward curb side exchange with him.

"It was rushed. He had to get home. I'm seeing him again tonight or rather we are." She motions towards me and then herself.

"We?" I say cautiously, unsure of where this is heading.

"Brighton's having a small dinner party tonight." There's some trepidation in her voice. "He insisted I bring you, Ivy. We both know this could mean that he's going to give me one of the placements in the program."

"Or it may mean he's going to give you something else." I raise my eyebrows playfully.

"Ivy!" She giggles. "I don't think he likes me that way."

"Likes you that way?" I tease. "Gosh, Liz, maybe you could pass him a note in second period and tell him you have a crush on him."

She pulls her hand to her mouth in mock surprise.

"You're twenty-seven- years-old. If you want him, tell him." I press on, "you haven't been on a date in months. Come to think of it, I can't remember the last time you were really interested in a man."

She sighs. "I'm not sure I want him and besides he doesn't see me that way."

"You won't know until you try." With that I pull some cash out of my wallet. "What time is this dinner party I don't want to go to?"

A smile returns to her face. "A car will pick you up at eight o'clock. Be ready, Ivy. Don't be late."