Marcie
No. No, no, no. I didn’t spend a whole night talking to Ben. I didn’t spend all week texting Ben! My breath races. My heart hammers. He can’t be Ryan because…because….
Ben catches my eye and smiles. He’s wearing a pair of jeans so crisp I have to assume he ironed them before leaving the house and a short-sleeved button-down with a tiny print I can’t make out from here. Oh, f**k, he’s walking over. I shove one of my hands beneath the table and squeeze it into a fist so tight, bright crescents of pain spark through my system as my nails dig in.
“My dear Lancival.” He half-bows as he approaches. “I should’ve known you’d beat me here. Do you mind waiting while I get my drink?”
I shake my head. He can’t be Ryan. He just can’t be. I watched Ryan die, even if I didn’t know that until h
