I didn’t mean to go out again—not really.
I told myself I was just going to grab coffee with Annemarie, but that somehow turned into brunch, and brunch turned into mimosas, and mimosas turned into tequila at a rooftop bar downtown where the music was deafening, the lights were too bright, and the people around us were impossibly beautiful; for a little while, I managed to forget the life waiting for me at home, to forget that Adrian was probably pacing our apartment, staring at the clock every few minutes, wondering why I wasn’t answering his texts, to forget everything—or maybe I didn’t want to remember.
The tequila burned my throat and made my skin buzz with a warm, dizzying lightness, the kind that made the world feel far away, as if I were floating just above myself and everything—ev
