Excerpted from Sabrina Morgan’s blog – do go there to rest what happens next:
The knock on the door froze me. I stopped unbuckling my heels.
Not likely. I hadn’t ordered any. Your voice caught my attention – it was familiar in an impossible way. You couldn’t be here. Not now.
I knew better, and I answered the door anyway, with my shirt half unbuttoned and my pale pink bra strap peeking out. You had the fucking nerve to be on the other side of it, without warning me, without any…
…any precursor other than the emails, the voicemails, and then nothing for a month.
“…Hi. What are you doing here?” You looked good. I didn’t tell you where I was staying. But you looked so, so good.
“I came to see you. Surprise.”
You came in – I don’t remember if I invited you in, or if I just stepped backwards and you followed me into the room. I looked at my feet, at your feet, at the cheap teal hotel carpet; never at your eyes. You were smiling, I was smiling, but I wasn’t sure why. I think I said something about being glad to see you. Funny thing to say, but I was too confused to be mad. Yet.
I just wanted revenge.