Derrick
I take Alisa back up to my apartment and straight through to the bedroom. “Sit,” I order. “I’ll get us something to drink.”
The apartment suddenly feels too small. Suffocating. As if it’s not big enough to hold both me and Alisa.
It’s all the memories, all the yesterdays, coming back to bite me in the ass. I shouldn’t have peaked in that box. I should know better by now.
The next few minutes can either go really, really well, or end really, really badly. I won't know until I've spoken to Alisa.
I open a bottle of wine, grab two glasses, and then head back to the bedroom. Alisa is on the bed, her legs crossed under her, hands relaxed in her lap. She’s just staring at me with her head c****d, her eyes questioning. “What’s going on?” she asks.
“Nothing,” I respond and hand her
